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[Edited] Chapter 30 - Signs
🕑 Added 2023-12-01 22:38:34 +0000 UTCAlmost 700 new words to this chapter.
And this marks the halfway point to the developmental edit phase. Whoo!
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Three by three by three.
In yellow. In blue. In green.
Six for one. Seven for two. Eight for me.
In light. In dark. In between.
Three by three by three.
“What do you think it means?” Lynnria asked.
I hesitated in answering, instead opting to reread the note just to be certain I had not missed anything.
Lynnria had found the clue sitting in plain sight. It was just a simple, folded card, written on eggshell-colored stock and artfully placed on an end table right next to a steaming mug of apparently nothing. And I mean that literally.
The mug was releasing a steady stream of vapor into the air, but there was nothing in it. It was as though it had been placed there to affect a lived-in feel to the place without actually leaving food or drink lying about. Or just to taunt me. Either way, the mug was glued down, so even if I could have found a use for a perpetually steaming cup—and I definitely would have tried—the Dungeon was a step ahead of me.
The end table was situated between an elegant divan and matching reading chair with a decorative throw tossed over it just beyond the two staircases. I probably would have seen the card immediately had I not opted to first seek out my lilim. But I have my priorities.
Which is not to say that the message itself helped all that much. I was not all that bad at puzzles, either—as long as they followed some kind of systemic logic. But with things like riddles and word games…? Truth be told, I was never totally certain what any of them were supposed to mean until after we had already solved them. Even then, they remained a little murky, leaving me with the feeling that I only ever managed to bumble my way through these Dungeons by trial and accident.
That said, this clue did bear a certain semblance to the one I had found ringing the clock on the upper balcony. I would need to reread it to check, but I seemed to recall certain reoccurring themes involving numbers and, specifically, the color blue. That left me with the impression that there might be still more clues out there, each dealing with the other colors in the trio.
“Hard to be sure,” I admitted finally before relating what I could remember about the clock. “I think we may be dealing with a branching puzzle design. Uh… that is, general clues leading to more specific ones along the way.”
“Makes sense,” Lynnria agreed with a nod. I was a tad surprised she had followed my line of reasoning so quickly, but then, she had said she had done extensive studies in preparation for running the Dungeon. Doubtlessly, riddles had been a major part of that. “But who… or what is the ‘me’ in the clue referring to?”
I had a pretty good idea but hesitated again. This time, for a rather different reason. There were quite a lot of things I had yet to explain to the girl, many of which I was loathe to bring up. I mean, having personally met the Lady of Power was one thing—as one of the Three, She was at least worshiped by the people of this world—but having also ‘congressed’ with one of the ‘evil’ goddesses? I doubted that would go over well. Worse yet, the only reason either of us were stuck in here was because Ahnbe’s sister, the Demon Queen, had literally destroyed an entire town just to get to me.
But we were stuck in here. It would not do either of us any good to hide the truth.
“I’m not… completely certain,” I hedged, “but I did find another note when I first arrived. I’m supposed to eventually meet someone by the name of Xhinn.”
“Xhinn?” she repeated. “Who’s that?”
Damn. I had been hoping she would know already to save me the explanation, but it appeared the Lady of the Dungeon was just as anonymous as Her sister. For whatever reason.
“Well again, it’s hard to be totally sure…”
Lynnria rolled her eyes. “Stop quibbling. Out with it.”
I sighed reluctantly before admitting, “I think that would be proper name of the Demon Queen. She sort of uh… invited me to dinner.”
She stared at me, apparently more than a little non-plussed, for a moment before finally bursting into laughter. Or more accurately, guffaws.
“Lynnria—“
Wheezing snorts began interlacing through her otherwise tinkling yet boisterous mirth.
“Lynnria, I’m being serious here.”
“Oh, sure! First the Lady of Power and now the Demon Queen? What kind of fool do you take me for?” she chortled.
Huh. Not the reaction I was expecting. But I guess it is a bit much to swallow. I could only imagine how she would react when I told her about the Shepherdess.
By that point, Lynnria was all but doubled over and stumbling around. “The next thing you’ll tell me, you’ve been getting Hand-jobs from the Hand of Mercy herself.”
Close!
“Insufferable girl,” Mia opined primly into my ear. “How dare she laugh when you have spoken nothing but the truth. Besides, Maeve would die of shame just from looking at an erection, never mind a—a Hand-job.”
That last bit was accompanied by a guilty little chuckle. Then I distinctly heard some pen scratchings. I decided to ignore whatever that was about in favor of the more pertinent question.
“How do you know I’m not lying, Mia? You weren’t here when I got that note,” I observed under my breath.
She sniffed. “That is perfectly—dried cum! Uh… perfectly obvious. Neither of my youngest kin have any need to introduce themselves to the kinds. That you would know the name of the Fifth is telling.”
“Still…” I persisted after a quick glance toward Lynnria, but the girl seemed on the verge of wetting herself. She was in no position to overhear anything. “It’s weird She invited me to dinner. Especially now that I know about this dream… fabric or whatever. She could just visit me there.”
“She almost certainly has already. And knowing you, something likely happened there to upset Her. I would expect some degree of appeasement is in your future.”
“Ah man… I was afraid of that,” I groaned. “Can’t you stick up a sign or something? Danger: Human dreams are freaky and unpredictable. Owner cannot be held responsible. Something like that?”
She chuckled. “I’ve tried, but most of them—crammed a horse cock up my ass and spun me like a—uh-bub uhh… that is, they didn’t believe me. And that was before I became your Faen. They would only brush me off now. What you are talking about is unprecedented. Only Ahnbe is beginning to suspect your true nature, and She seems to think it’s fun.”
“Figures,” I murmured, briefly wondering whether I should ask her to finish that analogy before thinking better of it. Instead, I turned my attention back to my braying companion and raised my voice, “If you’re quite finished…?”
“Sure, sure…” Lynnria replied, wiping at her eyes. “Can’t have you late to your date with divinity, now can we?”
I smirked but decided to let it be. She would find out for herself eventually. “Yeah, keep singing. You’ll hit a pitch eventually. Now, come on. Back up the stairs. And step where I step. There’s traps everywhere.”
“I’ve noticed,” she replied dryly. “And I can sing quite well, I’ll have you know.”
“I’m sure you can, princess,” I returned. And only slightly sarcastic.
“What’s a princess?”
“Never mind.”
“Donum!” she shouted, doing her best to chase me up the double steps with her injured leg. Of course, mine was too, so it was not that difficult to keep up. “I will not suffer insults in ignorance!”
“Doesn’t seem like you have much choice in the matter.”
“Donum!”
*****
The two of us stared at the yawning void before us.
The right-hand door was as I had left it, and unsurprisingly, it still led to some sort of extra-dimensional maze of darkness. Even less surprising, neither of us were particularly keen on stepping into it.
Lynnria swallowed nervously, her usual bravado for once cowed into submission by the task ahead. “Maybe we should uh… should read that clue one more time?”
I was pretty sure it would remain unchanged, but… “Couldn’t hurt.”
Gingerly, the two of us padded our way back over to the left, staying to the white tiles this time. The clock currently read just after six o’clock, meaning I had only been out for a couple of hours.
I had mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, I was not much hungrier than before, but on the other, I also had not had much opportunity to rest. And I could tell.
“Here we are,” Lynnria muttered before reciting the clue aloud. “Jump for glee: Blues in three, As hanging weight. One of six, One of seven, One of eight. First find a Key. Left to see, Right to mate.”
As one, we glanced down at the three crystalline, and notably blue, counterweights sealed behind the glass door of the grandfather clock.
“At least part of that seems clear,” she continued. “I can’t see how the ‘blues in three’ could be anything else.”
“That was my thought, as well. But we’d need a Key to get them out of there,” I observed, tapping at the triangular lock in question with my knuckle. “And even then, I have no idea what to do with them.”
“We’ll find out later,” she said with some confidence. “Branching clues, right?”
“It’s just a theory.”
She made a sound in her throat. “Still… from the way this reads, I would assume you’d find the Key back on the island where we met. Otherwise, what’s the point of the left-hand door?”
I nodded along with her reasoning, somewhat impressed with her deductive skills. Her grandfather really had been teaching her. But before I could open my mouth, she quickly forestalled me.
“Besides a crappy pun?”
My lips twisted to one side wryly. Still, it was a fair question. I mean, it was possible that finding Lynnria had been my ultimate objective—that dilapidated crystal had said to find a guide, after all—but that was only after asking it how to find my lilim. It was also possible that the Key had been secreted back on the island, and if I had thought to ask when I had the opportunity, the crystal might have led me in an entirely different direction.
I blamed the children. And Lynnria. They were distracting. For a variety of reasons.
“I… guess we could go back and check,” I suggested slowly.
Lynnria paled somewhat. “I’d… rather not. Flying doesn’t seem to agree with my stomach. And besides, we shouldn’t have to! The Dungeon is supposed to grant rewards for completing objectives, and we didn’t get a thing.”
I started to shrug—after all, it was not as if I had really accomplished much thus far—but then what she had just said sparked a memory. The ever-present yet invisible Faen had been quite amused by our little tumble down the stairs, and just before I had passed out, I recalled one of them starting to mention a proper reward.
Something about…
“Lynnria, do me a favor and turn out your pockets,” I said.
Her eyes widened in surprise at my suggestion and, with a strangled tone, she asked, “Whatever for?”
I eyed her suspiciously. Odd response… “I think the Faen may have tried to pull one over on us. I overheard one of them mentioning something about a pocket or… well, I don’t know. But it can’t hurt to check.”
“Really? I didn’t hear anything,” she informed me with an uneasy little chuckle. Then she slapped at her hips. “Even so, no pockets here. Leather you know. Far too tight.”
I tilted my head downward with an air of incredulity. She was clearly hiding something. But I did have the one pocket—technically a pouch—I could check before accusing her of anything. Best to be thorough.
“Inventory.”
Instantly, an illusory array of my stored items popped into view. The young laoi gasped in shock at the sight.
“What is this?” she breathed.
“Just what I’ve got stashed in here,” I informed her, jiggling the little Coin pouch hanging about my neck helpfully. Then after a quick scan, I sighed. “I don’t see anything new, though.”
“Yes, but… how did you do that, though?” she asked excitedly. “Was it some spell? A skill you purchased? Is the pouch engraved?”
“Well… yes it is, but not for that,” I replied. “It’s just a quirky little thing my mates and I can do.”
Actually, I had not thought to check with Arx about whether she had gained the ability on becoming my Dolilim, or indeed whether she had ever had it. We had been… rather lacking in inventory space for quite a while. And clothes. So it had not come up.
But Jax had an inventory screen, so it seemed a reasonable assumption.
“Do you think I could use that skill, too?” she asked, hopeful. “I mean… now that I’m betrothed to your Clan and all.”
“I dunno. Maybe,” I replied. “Mia? What do you think?”
“Hard to say—hard! Hard dick! I want your dick hard.” There came a sound like she had slammed her fist against something. After a moment, she took a breath and continued, “Strange little Clan skills do crop up from time to time, so it’s possible you may have passed it on during the ritual. Give it a try.”
I gave a hesitant nod. “She… also says maybe.”
Lynnria’s eyebrows lifted doubtfully. “I won’t ask.”
“That’s for the best.”
“Okay, so… what do I do?” she queried.
“Just say—”
“Fuck me, daddy!”
I coughed into my hand. “Just say, ‘inventory.’”
“That’s it?”
I steeled myself for the expected interruption, but Mia had apparently decided to step away from… whatever it was she used to listen in. Grateful, I nodded.
“Alright…” Lynnria shrugged uncertainly. “Inventory.”
It was not quite as instantaneous as when I called on the ability, but soon after saying the word, her eyes unfocused and she shivered. It looked as though a chill had just raced up her spine. Then a very slight, trembling sort of moan escaped her lips. However, before I could comment on the bizarre reaction, her own inventory screen flickered into existence just as mine had.
She did not have much. Just the dagger I had given her, a couple of cloth pouches, a few coins, a strangely large amount of what looked to be loose fur or perhaps wool… and a blue, triangular gemstone.
“Ah, there we go!” I exclaimed happily. “Now if you touch it…”
By way of demonstration, I tapped on the illusion just like I would have to summon an item from my own pocket, not expecting anything to happen. It was not my inventory, after all. However to my surprise, the hologram reacted.
Lynnria was still a little breathless, so it took her a moment to realize what was going on. But when she felt something begin to shift, her eyes widened in panic. Before she could react, one of the cloth pouches lifted out from underneath her shirt… consequently deflating her left breast rather significantly. Face pale, she swiped the bulging pouch out of the air and spun her back to me.
I cleared my throat roughly. “I’m uh… sorry about that, Lynnria. I didn’t realize—“
She jerked her head around to stare daggers at me. “Not another word!”
I nodded. That was for the best.
“Nutty Faen,” she grumbled under her breath, then started digging around in the pouch. “Of course, they’d think to stash it there. I’ll get them for this if it’s the last thing I do!”
A few moments later, she seemed to have resettled herself, and turned, Key in hand. Of the pouch, there was no sign… save, of course, for the now even pair of mounds at her chest.
I opened my mouth, thinking to gently reassure her, but her eyes were still looking rather sharp. So, I decided to change course.
“Uh… anyway, it’s a pretty useful ability for when you don’t want to dig around in your pockets,” I said awkwardly.
She nodded with a curt and no-nonsense sort of stiffness. “Yes. Very handy, I’m sure.”
We stared at one another for another handful of seconds, neither knowing what to say. Quite a lot of things had happened all at once, and precisely none of them were the sort of thing a person might want to bring up in polite conversation. However, eventually the two of us came to the silent yet mutual conclusion that it was best to side-step the whole affair by never talking about it again.
With a wooden and upright posture, she tiptoed around me, being careful to stay on the correct tiles, and inserted the Key into its receptacle in the clock. There came a soft click, and then the glass door swung open. The Key dissolved into nothingness a moment later.
Lynnria tilted one of the hanging crystals forward to inspect it. “Now what?”
“No idea,” I replied, much more at ease now that we were returning to a safe topic. “Do they come loose?”
She cast a quick glance at me from over her shoulder. Satisfied that no jabs or other inappropriate witticisms would be aimed her way, she relaxed and set to fiddling with the crystalline weights. Soon enough, she discovered that they would easily unscrew from their mountings, taking but the work of a few moments to detach them.
“Okay…” she said thoughtfully. “Now what do we—“
Before she could finish, there came an extremely low and off-pitch dong from the clock and the three chains were sucked up into the upper chamber. Then the hands on the clock face began to spin crazily, each in opposite directions, until they came to a rest at exactly 12 o’clock.
Silence reigned for several seconds, the two of us holding perfectly still while we waited for the other shoe to drop.
“What… what just happened?” she whispered eventually.
“I uh…” I hesitated, then quickly glanced down. At the clock’s current indicated time, that should have meant that the trap had reconfigured itself such that the black tiles were the new safe ones. However, we were both standing on white. And nothing was happening. “I think we may have just disarmed the trap.”
“How can we know that?” she asked, still whispering for some reason. “It could have just reset. Maybe it’s not activating because we haven’t moved. Or we could have broken it. Maybe the white tiles are the safe ones now when the clock says black.”
“Uh… I guess we’ll have to experiment?” I hazarded. “We can’t just stand here forever.”
“Maybe you can’t.”
I just grunted. She was being a tad unreasonable, but I could understand where she was coming from. Getting repeatedly flung down a flight of stairs while a bunch of dart launchers attempt to perforate your ass did not make for a pleasant Tuesday afternoon.
“Alright, then,” I said before leaning over the railing to wrap a firm elbow between a pair of balusters. I very deliberately did not move my feet from their known positions of safety. “Make a choice.”
She grimaced at my admittedly silly looking position, then heaved a reluctant sigh before joining me. “You realize we’ll look like idiots if the trap was disarmed.”
“You get used to it.”
“What? Looking like an idiot?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“I’m… not sure how I feel about that.”
“You get used to that, too.”
She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “Donum, would you say you’re a particularly good Quester, or just someone hanging on by his fingernails?”
“I’ll let you know when I meet a ‘good’ Quester.”
Then I moved my foot.
Fortunately, it seemed we were correct—the trap had been disarmed. And it is a rare day indeed that I am happy to report I only felt like a idiot. For a Quester, that emotion usually came pared with significant bodily injury.
*****
As we had no bags, we decided to commandeer the throw we had discovered over the chair downstairs to bundle up the trio of crystals. While I was tying them off, I could not help but observe that—rather like snowflakes—they each looked much the same while being quite unique.
They were all long and hexagonal, each coming to a point at one end and with a metallic screw still attached to the other that had been used to hang them from their chains. So they looked near enough the same as to be considered of a type. Still, there were plenty of slight angle differences here and there to distinguish one from the other.
Not that it mattered. We still had no idea what to do with them, so we decided it was for the best to just schlep them around until we figured it out. And as I was not one for getting up close and personal in a fight, I was the resident schlepper. It felt appropriate.
While I was busying my hands—and by that, I mean trying to secure the throw so it would not come undone at a moment’s notice—Mia and Lynnria had finally gotten around to fiddling with her potential skill-picks. Or more accurately, a long and drawn out game of trial and error.
Neither of them had any real idea as to her Class’s potential or any clue beyond its name as to what an Engraver even did. So all they could do was throw things at the wall and see if they stuck. Literally.
Or so Mia later informed me. Apparently, there is a space within everyone’s Core reserved for holding a person’s skills. If the skill is appropriate for the Class, it will remain. If not… poof. Fortunately, there was no risk involved. The skill-point would be returned if it did not take, so the only price for this sort of R&D was in tedium and mounting frustration. Still, given what I had seen of my own internal dimension, I could not help but be curious as to what my own looked like.
But that was a question for another day.
As for her skills, obviously she was going to need something to spend her accumulated luck on, else our… situation would almost certainly get out of hand before the day was out. Other than that, I felt it best to kept my thoughts to myself. If she wanted my opinion, she could ask for it.
Not that she needed it. Lynnria was doggedly persistent in her goal of wrestling her Class into some sort of warrior-specific role and, while she had thus far remained unsuccessful, not all of her failures could be chalked up to something as simple as Class conflict.
“What do you mean…No. Sorry. Let me rephrase. I don’t… understand. Lucky Strike is such a completely garbage-tier skill. There should be no reason—” She frowned intently as Mia silently interrupted. “Even that’s too complex? It’s literally one of the most basic—what about my mentals? Oh, sorry… ugh.”
“What does Lucky Strike normally do?” I asked conversationally.
She frowned at me briefly before nodding. “Right. You’re a mage, so I guess you wouldn’t have a need to know. But it’s right in the name. It just gives you the occasional extra bit of luck here and there so that you can land that perfect blow. But it happens so rarely it’s hard to tell whether it was just normal luck or from the skill, and because the odds of it working are so low, it’s next to impossible to level up. Almost nobody takes it, but with this aura of yours…”
I nodded thoughtfully. That did sound pretty nice. It was basic. To the point. And with my build, it would make for a pretty damned good synergy. An excellent first Layer pick.
Still, from the response I had heard, Mia had said ‘too complex.’ Not ‘no.’ In the realm of skill-picks, those were very different things.
“Well… if Lucky Strike is too complex, maybe you could just ask for Luck,” I quipped jokingly.
Lynnria snorted. “Yeah, right. I wish. But that’s like a Third Stratum—“
She stopped and slowly her eyes widened. “What do you mean, kind of? Can you or can’t you? Oh, ew. Mia! No, I know you can’t help it, but still, the imagery…”
“Found something?” I asked lightly, surprised.
“Huh? Oh, uh… maybe? She said she’s going to try it, but it seems ridiculous. I can’t see how I could possibly qualify for—“ She stopped again, listening. “Huh… well, that’s… not at all the skill I know of. Actually, I’m not sure I understand it at all. Mia, what are you talking—no, forget I asked.”
“Care to share?”
“Uh… she’s saying something about inscribing a certain charm onto the… the fate of an outcome? But that the outcome can be… can be subjective given differing points of view, so I need to direct my uh… my…” She snapped her fingers absently.
“Your Will?” I hazarded.
“That’s it!” she replied brightly. “Uh… then I can assert my view point as the… the favored… outcome?”
I blinked a few times. Inscribing a charm… “So, it’s like a gesture for good luck?”
“I guess?”
I nodded slowly, trying to make sense of the whole subjectivity business, and why Lynnria’s Will should at all be a factor. Normally, the successful use of skills depended on resource availability and large amounts of practice, but given that she had mentioned her mental attributes as a limitation, it left me with the impression that Mia might have run out of space in the ‘Word count’ to define that parameter.
That, combined with how much difficulty they had been experiencing in creating a reasonable skill, left me with the inevitable conclusion that Lynnria’s Manic Breadth stat was pretty abysmal. Which was not all that surprising. My own had been something like 4 when I had started out. With Mia being cut off from the ‘standard constructions,’ as she had called them, my Faen was forced to create every skill from scratch. If the me from then were in Lynnria’s position right now… well, I could only imagine the difficulty in creating something at all useful with only four Words.
In any case, it sounded like Mia was attempting to ‘tie up the loose ends’ by using Lynnria’s Will as a stop gap for what she lacked in Manic Breadth.
“Well, if you can figure out how it works, that…sounds pretty useful,” I opined. Kind of vague, though.
She nodded uncertainly. “I suppose. And certainly more interesting than Spark.”
“Spark?”
She made a dismissive gesture. “It’s a terrible mage skill. Or uh… mages of a certain sort, anyway. It’s technically a hand-to-hand technique, but… well, you know mages. It ends up getting used for starting campfires mainly.”
I bobbed my head along with her explanation. That sounded a lot like the old Shocking Grasp spell from D&D. Touch someone, lightning damage. And yeah, as a mage, it did not even sound like a good idea on paper.
Never mind the fact you had to successfully touch something in a fight—which as a mage was by no means an easy feat—why bother getting into melee at all when you could just as easily throw a few Magic Missiles from down range? But at least in 5th edition they had changed it to a cantrip, so it was not a wasted spell slot.
“May as well try it,” I suggested. “Even if it turns out not to be so great a skill, I’m sure we’ll find some way to improve on it later. And it may give us some insight as to how your Class works.”
She nodded with some reluctance. “I guess. It’s nowhere near what I was hoping for, but… at least it’s different. I’m certain Grandfather would think it hilarious. And Mother…” She sniffed.
“Oh… sorry, but I had thought your mother wasn’t alive for some reason,” I said with a degree of surprise.
Her eyes went to some far off place, and her lip twitched, as though she were suppressing a deep scowl. “She’s only dead to me. But never mind that old business, Donum. I’ve betrothed to your Clan now, and I am eager to see how this new skill works.”
Despite my usual reticence to discuss other people’s personal affairs, that had actually sounded kind of important. People do not just up and declare relatives dead to them for no good reason. But before I could comment, she quickly jerked her head upward.
“Mia, go ahead. I’ll take the skill.”
As soon as those words left her mouth, her back abruptly arched, and she seemed to go weak in the knees. With a gasp, she clutched at my tunic and, before I thought about what I was doing, I allowed my arms to circle her waist, steadying her.
“Are you alright?” I asked, concerned.
She looked up with a dreamy sort of expression, then without another word, she crushed her lips to mine. I was too shocked at first to do much of anything but let her. I did not even think to pull away.
Within seconds, the connection I had previously felt between us flickered back into place like an old piece of electronics with a barely functional power cord, giving me limited access to her unspoken thoughts and desires. I could not say exactly what she was thinking, though. I do not know if she was thinking anything.
Even so, there was a subtle yet deepening need for… something. There was a listlessness to her. As though she felt a lack. Of… direction? Purpose? I could not tell. And neither could she.
Yet somehow, that void in her heart was creating a desperate and unquenchable fire within her loins. More even than what could be accounted for from my aura. It was like the two were feeding off one another, magnifying their effects.
All of that information washed over me like an ocean wave, leaving me disoriented, uncertain… and more than a little turned on. Maybe it does not work that way for every guy, but for me, there can be no more certain trigger than knowing just how aroused a woman is to set my engines to purring. And whether I liked it or not, my ignition had been turned.
She must have felt me rising between us, because she smiled knowingly into the kiss. Her tongue then slipped between my lips, exploring every contour as hungry whimpers of delight escaped her throat. Then, before I could process what was happening, I felt her thigh slip up the side of my leg, seeking purchase at my hip. Followed shortly by the other.
And before I knew it, before the chemical soup that was the current state of my brain could think to stop her, she had hoisted herself up to my waist. All the while, the kiss never stopped, only intensified. Deeper and deeper she went, almost as if she were attempting to gorge herself on my breath.
I could feel her hips grinding against me, desperate for contact. Whatever reluctance I felt was quickly being subsumed by the passion of the moment, my member trapped by the warmth between her legs, ever seeking yet denied entry by the leather encasing them.
I was just about to try undoing them, consequences be damned, but then my tongue caught on the edge of one of her teeth. Blood instantly filled our mouths, and she jerked away and down in surprise, holding her hand over her mouth in shock and horror. And perhaps embarrassment.
“I—I’m so sorry, Donum!” she stammered, then swallowed. “I d-don’t—“
Abruptly her eyelids began to flicker and she shivered.
“It’s okay, Lynnria,” I managed over my still-bleeding tongue. “You don’t have to… worry…”
I trailed off, fairly certain she was not paying attention. She was making a face I had recently become quite familiar with. And slowly sinking to her knees with her thighs clamped firmly together. Whatever confluence of events had just occurred, it was resulting in a nice little climax for the girl.
Which was fantastic for her, but having gone several days with such frequent temptation—and no release in sight—was not doing great things for my mood. Hell, the last time I had even attempted to get my rocks off had been with Jax, but that had ended with such a spectacular case of blue balls, I doubted I would ever forget it. I was just lucky no one had been around to hear the Lady of Power comment on my erection. Oy…
Regardless, now that I had some breathing room to think, I realized that had gone much further than it should have. I would need to watch myself.
Sighing, I readjusted my kilt in an effort to calm myself down and focused on the still-orgasming girl. First a near stroke from a simple inventory-call and now this? Something abnormal was going on… and more so than normal. Which is weird to say, but when abnormalities become common-place, it sort of twists your perspective. It can be hard to notice the caramel apples hanging from the trees when you are standing in the middle of Candyland.
With my aura, I had fully expected for Lynnria to become increasingly randy as time went by, but this was something else. I could see no reason that the simple use of abilities or the gaining new ones might trigger something like this. They certainly never had for either of my other companions. And surely this was not the result of an—admittedly nice—kiss.
It was then I noticed a subtle yet unnatural shift within Lynnria’s mouth. She was still struggling to get her breathing back under control from her recent experience and was panting rather heavily, else I would never have seen anything. But I had.
Quickly, I knelt in front of her and, before she could pull away, I grasped her jaw.
“Donum?” she mumbled uncomfortably, “What are you—?”
“Hush,” I interrupted. “Let me see your teeth.”
Confused, she opened her mouth further. I peered at them for a few seconds, certain of what I would find. But I did not.
They were perfectly normal. No fangs. Nor even the beginnings of them. Just a regular and healthy set of teeth.
I frowned uneasily.
“What is it?” she asked and, when I released her, began frantically feeling at them herself. After a moment, she sagged with relief. “I don’t… I mean, I didn’t bite you on purpose! Surely you know that?”
I nodded absently. But when I did not say anything else, she continued.
“I don’t… I don’t know what happened. It… I don’t know! The longer things went on, the more and more I wanted… something, and then… then…” She swallowed and looked up at me fearfully. “You’re not mad are you?”
For a moment, I just held her gaze. But then I had to sigh.
It had not been my imagination. I had seen her teeth shifting. Oh, they might have returned to normal quickly enough, but I knew fangs when I saw them. Clearly the amount of influence I had infused into this girl had done more than I… and likely Mia had suspected. Or thought possible. Perhaps I should not have been surprised. It was not like either of us knew what we were doing, precisely. Least of all me.
She wanted something, huh? I had felt that want myself while we had kissed. Palpably. And as a result, Lynnria had bitten me. Maybe not on purpose… but if her physical reaction was any indication, she had gotten it. Influence. It has to be.
I already knew there was a physical component involved. If my saliva had it, there was little doubt my blood carried it as well—and likely the rest of my bodily fluids. For her to not only cum, but to show signs of changing form just from a mere taste…
“No, Lynnria,” I admitted. “I’m not mad. Just… concerned.”
Then I began to tell her the rest of what being my mate entailed.
