With a smile of victory now gracing his handsome face, he takes my hand once again, sending jolts of electricity through my flesh as he leads me through the ballroom directly to his parents. Suddenly that sensation of not being able to breathe is making a valiant return. “Mother, Father, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he says, stopping in front of his parents with emboldened determination. His parents cease their conversation and turn to give their son their attention. My eyes lock with his father’s and the tension building from our stares could suffocate the room. He’s made his opinion of me very clear, and I told him in the most delicate way I could, to go screw himself. Based on his face, I’m glad to see he remembers. He can’t kill me, and he can’t have me removed from the kingdom, I’ll just end up right back next to Sebastian. “Is this Lemuel?” His mother asks, she looks at me with curiosity and interest. I’ve heard she’s as bigoted as the King, but perhaps she’s more o
Using the fountain, I teleport myself and Lemuel back to my room. I have had it with his hot and cold, wish-washy bullshit. I’ve been pretty tolerant up until now, but now I’ve reached my fucking limit. Once we manifest in my room I forcefully pin him against the door and stare into his electric eyes – a vibrant storm of blue and purple darting around in confusion. Maybe I should have given him a warning but fuck that shit. “I am so sick of your hot and cold bullshit. You openly claim me in front of my parents and that bitch, Circe, then all of a sudden you can’t be free of me fast enough. Which the fuck is it? You can’t have both, Lemuel. You can’t claim me and then want to be as far away from me as possible, so tell me what the fuck you want?!” I shout in an angry rush. “I DON’T KNOW!” He screams, stunning me. I didn’t know his vocal cords had such range. His brows are dipped in a deep-set frown, and his chest is rising and falling like he’s struggling to get air. I look into his
He places his hand around the back of my head, holding me in place as his lips begin to feast on mine, and I surrender to the power and force of them, wrapping my arms around his neck as I feel his hand glide down my body and cup my dick through my pants. I moan into his kisses pressing myself into his hand, craving his touch. He squeezes my cock through my slacks, and all I want is out of these fucking clothes. I turn us around and start guiding him to the bed as he, with perfect movements, pushes off my jacket while kicking off his pants and shoes. I toss my jacket across the room and rid myself of my shirt and tie while he unbuttons my slacks. I push him down onto the bed and watch as he quickly removes the last vestiges of his clothing, while I slip off my shoes and socks and push my slacks down finally freeing my hard-on from its constraints. I watch his tongue dart out and skim across his bottom lip as his eyes drink me in. I’ve wanted him to look at me like this since the day h
“People like you are a plague on humanity. I see the darkness that consumes your soul. You care only for your own selfish desires and not for the lives you destroy. You revel in your spoils while others suffer for your misdeeds. You granted your heart’s deepest wishes and others paid the price. Now you shall return the favour…” The words that have haunted me for centuries assault my mind as memories of unrelenting pain take over my senses while the image of piercing silver eyes watch on with a cold satisfaction more bone-chilling than any nightmare could hope to be. I wake up with a jolt, my heart pounding beneath my ribcage as the thunderous sound of its fear-filled beats fill my eardrums. I lay my head in my hands as I attempt to catch my breath, and it’s now I feel the sweat that has formed along my brow. I feel the trickle of sweat as it slides down my back. I shiver as the cool air hits my moist flesh, and yet still I feel as though I have been bathing in front of an open flame
A fag. He actually called me a fag. My own parents have never even called me that and they’re walking, talking bigots. Not a single person I have ever come into contact with has ever called me that, and the first person to do it was my soulmate. I walk through the palace on autopilot, my feet moving sluggishly against the marble floors. I feel as though there is a thick dark cloud looming over me, weighing me down. I need to get some air and clear my head, or at least try to. I make my way through the palace, being greeted by staff and officials as I go and for once I can’t bring myself to return their greetings. I can’t force a smile on my face, not when my heart is crushing me from the inside. I make my way to a large, ornate, gold door on the first floor and open it revealing a large stone spiral staircase that leads down to the bowels of the palace. I carefully make my way down the stairs and feel my spirits begin to lift as my path is guided by the shimmering blue along the wall
A stupefied laugh escapes me, “What the fuck are you wearing?” I ask between chortles. “It’s my apology,” he says, holding his arms out wide with a look of pure guilt and mortification on his dreamy face. Now that I think about it, I can feel hints of how uncomfortable he is, but also how nervous he is. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Lemuel, the man who always dresses to perfection, is wearing the sexy butler outfit I got him. I only got that as a joke, I never expected him to ever wear it. The thin printed top is clinging to his muscles and… well, the underwear is far too small and not doing a good job at containing the family jewels. Which I’m not bothered by, having now seen him naked I can honestly say, no kinky outfit compares to his naked body. He's even wearing the cuffs and necktie! “You look hot,” I smirk as I continue to check him out. My eyes dip down to admire his sexy, muscular legs and for a moment I remember the way they were wrapped around me last night. He grima
I hold Sebastian’s hand tight to the point I fear I’ll crush it, but I still don’t relax my hold. I’ve never told a soul any of this, and if he reacts how I think he will, then this will be the last time I ever get to touch him. The moment I said I killed my family, I felt it. I felt the dread and the fear creeping over him. He can say what led to my curse changes nothing, but it changes everything. It did for me. “What do you mean you killed your family?” He slowly asks, managing more composure than I expected. I take in a deep breath and brace myself to relieve a past I’ve long tried to forget, “I was born in 1711 in what you might know to be called the Kingdom of Ankole, which is now part of Uganda.” His eyes widen in surprise “You don’t sound like you’re from Uganda.” “How many people do you know from Uganda?” I ask, raising my eyebrow. “Um… just you. I just mean you don’t have that kind of African accent.” “There’s no such thing as an African accent. Africa is a continent c
~1739~ I stumble home, barely feeling the earth beneath my feet as I take each step. The air is cool and crisp waking up my inebriated senses as I listen to the sounds of the insects. I look up as the stars twinkle above me, the perfect accompaniment to the bright light of the crescent moon, the only source of light in the darkness of the night. My brows knit together as I look upon the moon, looking as though it’s frowning down at me. I wave my hand dismissively at it as I continue home. As I approach the sanctuary of my home, I hear rustling coming from the forest. I quickly spin to my left while trying to keep myself standing. I shouldn’t have had so much to drink. I squint my eyes and focus on the dark figure staggering out of the forest. I reach the shabby fence around my home and grab the nearest sharp object and hold it, ready to fend off whatever is coming towards me, but as it gets closer, the light of the moon reveals the figure and has me freezing in shock. “Mother?” I wh
I walk over and lay down on the blanket and prop myself against the pillows and pat the spot next to me. He takes a step forward and I raise my hand to halt him, “Wait. You’re overdressed,” I say slyly. He smiles down at me and slowly pulls his shirt off over his head and my eyes quickly drink up his perfectly muscled physique. He slips off his loafers, unbuttons his pants and pushes them down along with his briefs until he’s completely naked in front of me. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as I eye him with desire as I feel my cock get rock hard once again. “May I join you now?” He asks in a low voice. I nod, unable to find the words I want. He lowers himself to his knees and crawls along the blanket until he’s hovering over me. He slowly sinks down on top of him, the feel of his skin on mine sending currents of electricity through my entire body. His arms wrap around my head caging me between his arms as his lips descend on my neck. His soft full lips nip and caress my flesh as
I stare at him incredulously, “That’s a joke right?” He quirks an eyebrow at me, “Why would it be a joke?” “You’ve never been on a date?! And you’re just telling me now?!” I screech like a damn howler monkey. “It didn’t seem relevant,” he shrugs. “Didn’t seem relevant?!” I screech again, placing my glass down. “Would you cut that out, you’re going to disturb the sea life,” he chastises, taking another sip of his drink. “Lemuel, had you told me I would have done something extravagant,” I pout. He chuckles, “THIS doesn’t qualify as extravagant in your mind? You’ve set up a beautiful romantic date on a fucking yacht. Most first dates from what I hear these days are just dinner and a movie. Many would consider this extravagant, and I already love this date so stop having a meltdown and drink your drink,” he says, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me close as he kisses my neck making me take a laboured breath. I pick up my drink and take another sip, “I still can’t believe you
I wasn’t nervous about Circe’s execution. I wasn’t even nervous about being given charge over a monolithic magical crystal now living in the oceanic version of my basement. But my first date with my soulmate? That has me nervous as fuck. Seems weird that I’m basically the supernatural equivalent of married and yet we’ve never been on a date. I mean, that night at the club does not count and that did not end well. I want… no, I NEED tonight to be perfect. That’s why I called in reinforcements. I’ve just finished setting the table on my family's yacht. Lemuel said he always felt at peace when he was on a boat on the water, so I want to give him an updated version of that, and no one has used the yacht in ages, so I figured it was time to dust off the cobwebs. The yacht is a Black Pearl and is one of the most eco-friendly yachts on the market. It’s 106.7 metres long and can reach speeds of up to 30 knots under sail and with a top cruising speed of 17.5 knots by motor. It has the ability
As I reconstitute I walk over to my desk, moving things around until I find the large stone tablet with scribble on it, or glyphs as everyone is claiming. I grab the block of stone and immediately teleport back to the throne room. “Is this is?” I ask, holding up the piece of stone. Aiyla’s eyes widen in disbelief and Isolde looks like she’s about to pass out. I walk over and place the piece of stone in Isolde’s hands and watch as she reverently traces her fingers over the carvings. “You were using part of an ancient prophecy, written by the Goddess Fretez herself… as a paperweight?” She asks in a low and slow voice. Wait, that thing was written by the Goddess Fretez?! Well, how the hell was I supposed to know that? It’s not like it came with a warning label that reads: ‘made by Goddess, do not touch’. I shrug feebly, “I didn’t know what it was. I thought it was just scribble,” I say defensively. Obviously, if I had known it was a sacred magical relic I would have been more respectf
“How much longer do you think?” I ask as I continue to pace across the throne room. “Aiyla said mid-day. It’s now mid-day, so I would assume any minute now,” says Lemuel casually while leaning leisurely against the wall. “What do you think the Orraikam looks like? Maybe an amulet? A mystical orb of some kind?” I ask enthusiastically. After Aiyla told us we would be placed in charge of protecting the magic of a Goddess, I combed the library for hours. I could not find a single reference to the Orraikam in any of our books, not even in our vault which is to protect ancient works from damage. It was a long shot, but I figured it was worth a look, but I guess the Delegation did a damn fine job of keeping this thing hidden, until now. “I’m sure whatever it looks like, is nothing either of us can comprehend,” he says in a very blasé manner. “Aren’t you the least bit excited?” “This isn’t about fun or excitement. We’re being entrusted with a sacred duty; I’m treating this with the level
“You, on the other hand, will not be so lucky.” “Your Majesty, wait!” Shouts a man from the crowd as he rushes forward falling to his knees. Tears fill his eyes, and he looks as though he hasn’t slept in years. “King Sebastian, I beg of you to show mercy on my daughter. She made a mistake. That shouldn’t cost her, her life,” the man pleads. I glance over at Sebastian who has gone from enraged to full-blown furious and I don’t blame him. “Mistake? Did you really just say she made a mistake?” Sebastian says through gritted teeth, walking over to the broken man. “Accidentally using salt instead of sugar when baking, that’s a mistake. Slipping on the gas when you mean to hit the brakes; those are mistakes. Your daughter actively and intentionally harassed me for nearly a century. Lied and deceived the former King and Queen.” Haemon and Callista both look sick with guilt over that comment. “Conspired with a known criminal. Organised a coup. Endangered the kingdom. Brutally murdered two p
I’ve been waiting weeks for this day to finally arrive. From the moment I met Circe, I wanted to slap the mouth right from her face. Back then I never imagined we’d be here – I never imagined anything until I met Sebastian. I certainly never imagined some deranged woman would try to tear us apart, and I never imagined we’d be getting ready for her execution, but I can say with complete honesty that I couldn’t be happier. A life sentence is too good for her, and I hate the thought of her still living in the kingdom, even if it is as a prisoner, so the sooner she’s gone, the sooner I can rest easy. Sebastian walks over and buttons up my shirt leaving the first few buttons undone while I pull on my jacket. He places a gentle kiss on my sternum, and I lean forward pecking his nose. “Even though I know how you’re feeling, I’m still going to ask anyway,” I say, placing my hands on his hips. “I just want this over with so we can leave this mess in the past and move on with our lives,” he
“It is my deepest honour to introduce for the first time, our new King and Queen, Sebastian and Lemuel!” I hear Eisa cheer through the microphone as Lemuel and I make our way into the ballroom. Everyone is gathered and cheering, still carrying the same excitement from earlier. I smile at Lemuel, tightening my hold on his arm and watch as he takes in the wonderfully decorated room. The decor is much the same as the throne room, only on a much larger scale. Glittering purple water pours from the fountains and waiters walk around serving drinks, but all that is tuned out the moment I hear ‘Do I Love You Because You’re Beautiful?’ begin to play. I grin at Lemuel as I bounce with excitement. Dimitra deserves a big fat raise after this. Lemuel smiles and extends his hand to me, “May I have this dance, my King?” I smile and bat my eyelashes, “I thought you’d never ask.” I place my hand in his, smiling wider when he pulls me close by my waist and begins twirling me around the dancefloor.
Lemuel and I slowly walk up the steps and gracefully drop to our knees before my parents. My father takes in a deep breath and adjusts his jacket. A mesmerizing glittering royal blue that merges into black satin from the waist down, with an indigo belt wrapped around his midsection. Black lapels cross over and allow just a hint of his white ruffled shirt to peek out from the neck and ends of his sleeves, giving definition to the ensemble. Black satin slacks appear to move in the light and cut down exposing royal blue shimmering oxfords at his feet. A stunning floor-length cobalt blue cape hangs from his right shoulder and gathers across the floor like the surface water of a beautiful oasis. It’s only when the music stops, and the room falls silent that I realise how long I’ve been staring at the inspiring image of my parents. A ring of cobalt blue glows around my father’s grey eyes, and with a wave of his hand, the surface water of the nearest fountain begins to bubble, acting as a m