Vol 2. Chapter 16
Home. I sit upon the roof of my Moon Tower now, able to gaze out on Swendula’s streets. New roads. New gutters. New houses. It’s been upgraded into a rather grand city and it is no longer a smaller subsidiary of Uldaya’s Kingdom.
Swendula even has regular armed patrols – well trained I see, by the Warlord himself.
Zarcar’s residence really is a part of the tower – my tower is in the very centre, rising from the still intact garden, more a green house now, and therefore making my home a turret inside his mini-residential castle. His own residence is connected to the two houses down the street either side, but he has kept my tower in the centre, the garden is greener from tender magic…
…I feel awfully guilty.
I lied to Torrent about wanting to marry Zarcar and Zarcar himself would have heard me proclaim my intentions.
I didn’t want to marry anyone.
But Zarcar’s residence? The tender care he’s spent keeping my tower so well preserved? I mean, there were even those forbidden climbing vines covering every inch now. He probably worked out, if I ever returned, instead of scolding me; he’d grow more for me to climb in case I were to slip, giving in to my silly love of climbing.
Andoll has made a home in a bay window inside, putting up curtains to catch the sunlight in one corner, her little nest is full of stolen trinkets from around the home already. She sleeps deeply and at peace, captivated by calming spells laid upon the small castle.
It’s one reason I didn’t like the residence itself, though it was beautiful. It was a manipulation first and foremost.
A life of servitude to any man? No. Never.
I loved the attention from a single moment of scolding followed by hot sex, yes, yes. But my first and second loves lay in my Moon Tower and my Venatores.
Zarcar is the Mystifyer I trust the most. I love Lixar as the smirking lover. I enjoyed Torrent for a second in time, but now I abhorred his control, which was extreme and abusive. Rey, the Immortal King? Just another strange member of my Venatores, that I strangely trusted too, but I wasn’t sure why. I guess I knew Rey being half a Draconess and Vampyre made him a loner, so we probably bonded on that; enjoying solitary moments.
I lie back on the flat roof top and close my eyes as the sun bears down and warms my skin.
It was time for a restoring nap, then when twilight came, I would venture through the city’s main thoroughfare and enjoy the new prosperous vibe from Swendula’s citizens.
Andoll remains asleep in the residence as I deposit some coins in an older ladies hand, taking the candles I’ve bought and placing them in a leather bag around my shoulders.
I was going to celebrate my freedom with meditation for the week. Something every Priestess or Sorcerer should do to maintain full control of their connection to the ebb and flow of magic within their veins.
I head out the door of the wax shop and head down the busy thoroughfare to the central square where the marble tree in the middle of the fountain still stands.
I make a detour here, before I grab anymore supplies.
I’m dressed in gold ribbons, my hair is plaited in two long braids, my feet; bare.
I run up to the fountain and in the moonlight I decide it’s a great place to join the other couples, dancing to one man playing a guitar. I throw my bag on a marble branch so it hangs high and then I walk to the dancers.
I close my eyes temporarily as I bathe in the moonlight – I loved Swendula in moments like this. Calm weather. Lovely people. Usually clear skies for perfect rays of power to flood every inch of my skin.
Now, ready to dance, I relax my shoulders back, I roll my wrists and then spin my heels, twirling and beginning to dance solo. It’s not long as I’m enjoying myself, that I spot Andoll sprinting to me from the crowd, eyes wildly overjoyed, she is dressed in an oversized purple robe, which she’s wrapped around her head to stop it dragging.
I smile as she grabs the robe from around her head and pulls it over her face, smelling the old smell of Zarcar’s uniform. She drops to her knees before me, chuckling through the fabric – she looks like a purple poop collapsed on the ground.
“Get up you nut!” I wrap my arms around Andoll’s shoulders and pull her back up to stand, “Dance properly! Like this,” I grab her hands and her head pops out from the robe as she shakes sit off.
“I know how to dance,” Andoll hisses with malicious joy, “I’ve just stolen his precious item to lure him this way to you!”
“What?” I let go of her hands, “Zarcar won’t be back for at least a few weeks – Rey wouldn’t –”
“Wouldn’t what? Allow me to return early, on a Warlord’s leave, to woo my fiancé further?”
Zarcar speaks over my head, and I turn from Andoll, breaking into a wide grin as I instantly slap my hands on his shoulders, looking over a bronze tanned chest taking up most of my vision, his wild brown locks lie out and untied – just how I like it. I run my eyes down briefly. Clean breeches, he’s just changed from arriving a day after Andoll and I returned!
“I should have guessed!” I bite my lip and Zarcar raises a proud brow and looks past me to Andoll as she chuckles demonically in his robe.
“Do my antics please you, Warlord?” Andoll asks, sultry.
“This dolly only enjoys spanking as a punishment,” Zarcar hoods his eyes and glances at me, the fire burning in the black pits tells me he has his mind on one thing.
“A falsehood, I swear it!” Andoll jumps into my side, grabbing my elbow while I’m gazing up into Zar’s gaze, reading all the hot energy well enough.
“Andoll, take my bag back for me?” I ask, unable to stop staring.
“Aye, Queen,” Andoll slaps my butt and hops away, yelling out to the unwitting crowd, “YES! Your QUEEN has returned! Bow to her beauty! She is my friend!”
Zarcar snorts out and watches Andoll go, with my stuff, safely under her arm, “Lovely little demoness, isn’t she?” Zarcar turns back to me, my hands haven’t moved from his shoulders, I’m still staring at his face.
“I can’t believe it. I have you to myself,” I whisper, “No Rey. No Tor. No Lix.”
“Well you came back here to marry me,” Zar smiles warmly as he leans down, going in for the kiss.
I have to be honest!
My smile falters and I pull away from his devilish mouth, even raising a hand to press a few fingers lightly over his lips, “Zarcar,” I whisper very gently, “I lied.”
Well – I couldn’t really phrase it any other way, now, could I?
I suck in a breath as he pauses dangerously on the way down to catch my lips, now watching me suspiciously, that fire burning now for a different purpose.
I think he’ll argue! However, Zarcar straightens, whips up one of my elbows and tugs me along with him as he strides off.
I follow quickly, trying to read his expression.
Oh… oh, no…
Flat lined. No expression. Only negative thoughts.
Did I break his heart a second time? I wish I could take back how blunt I was!
“Zarcar! Listen, you misunderstand me –” I blurt as we walk fast, but he shakes his head.
We stop abruptly as Zarcar turns into me, now whipping up my other arm, clasping both elbows tight, he tugs me in and snarls over me, “You spit in the face of everything I’ve done for us,” his eyes beg with me to understand him, “You’ve seen it. You must know. It’s for us. I did this all for us.”
“Dayarexna –?” I start off sourly.
“Chyronex, do you love me or not?” Zarcar asks it, strained.
I won’t lie – I am glad he dismisses Salt’s brief interference.
“I love you much more than I should – marriage is simply an inconvenient title I’d like to avoid. I am a free Draconess,” I state simply, “Do not overreact. Please.”
“Fine,” Zarcar snaps, clearly it’s not fine, “I don’t care if you don’t want to get married. I care that you said you would – you got my hopes up and then you dashed them you damn succubus –” he’s so upset!
I have to put my Warlord out of his misery.
I jump in front of Zarcar’s renewed strides, shoving into his chest, forcing him to stop in the street again, I press my breasts hard into his flaming hot abs and I glance up, clawing my nails into his arms so he must look at me.
“I am lost without you,” I whisper my truth, “Do not misunderstand me. I. Choose. You.”
“The only way for you to redeem yourself now is to marry me,” Zarcar speaks in a monotone, looking ahead rather than at me, but he’s serious, he’s mischievous and he’s evil, slowly now, he looks down at my expression, “In fact. I command you, as a slave and war prize – as the first thing you were to me. My authority overrules yours in Swendula – you do serve me alone. I don’t see you in any other way but clawing at my feet, begging for my forgiveness… Chyronex…”
“I know,” I respond, gulping down my lust for my demonic pleasures associated with our dynamic, “…and I love you scolding me.”
“Last time I checked, I own you entirely –” Zar leans down to growl in my ear, “And I should never have let you leave.”
My knees are weak because I know what comes next.
Zarcar scoops me up and holds me tightly to his chest, his jaw clenched and his eyes focused forward upon his residence and my Moon Tower.
“Where are we going, Warlord?” I ask, quietly, while tickling my fingers down his neck nervously, “To, uh, to bed?”
“We shall share a bath.”
My eyes sparkle.
That sounds perfect to me.