The Ravening

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By Way of Explanation

I gasped when I felt the icy touch of water against my back. Coming to life.

Coming out of my state of shock.

“Wash off, Zira!” He ordered urgently.

I blinked blearily. Giving him a confused look.

“Now!” He ordered panicked. “Get it out of you!”

I stared at him in confusion. “What? You’ve never told me to before.”

“I am, in truth, nothing like the creature you invited to you last night.”

“It was you!” I argued.

“No.” He shook his head vehemently. “You called out a pure manifestation of the demon possessing me. The creature I keep carefully contained.”

“It was pure rage.”

“Yes.” He admitted.

I dutifully splashed water on myself. “Why do you fear the seed you put in me last night?”

“It would be solely the seed of the demon. Not of me.”

“Does that mean that you can get me with child?” I had assumed it was impossible but seeing the red flush of his cheeks I realized he was aware he could.

“What have you done?” I breathed.

He paled. “I’m a veritable fool. Of the worst sort.” He winced. “Promise me you’ll never call out that name again.”

I scoffed. Shaking my head weakly. "I thought a demon's name has power over it."

"It does. In the case of a sucubus it summons the purest demon. Just like calling a man's name in the throes of passion has a primal reaction on him, so does it on my monster."

"Then what would I call you?" I didn't really care. I was just trying to keep my numbed brain from reliving last night.

"Van."

I grunted. Finishing cleaning myself I began the trembling walk from the water. I stumbled and he caught me.

"How are you touching me?"

"You're incredibly weak. My power is far greater than yours right now." He swept me up and carried me back to the fire. Laying me on the leaves he began his ministrations to heal me. Working over me, inch by inch.

"For as little as it's worth, I'm horrendously sorry, Zira. More sorry then I've ever been for anything."

"Are you even capable?"

"I'd have thought not. I'm innately selfish. But I ache for this. I hate that I did this to you. Hate that I couldn't make you listen."

He had told me. And he'd never lied to me.

Why didn't I listen? Because I was prideful. And because I assumed that you should do the opposite of what a demon told you to do.

"Often we'll use the truth to manipulate more often then not." He explained. Hearing my thoughts again.

But somehow, just the fact that he was talking to me, made me feel less like I was going to die. More human.

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