In life, as in death, I lay in a bed of roses (angst/comfort)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Avis Amberg (painting)
Have I earned it, mother? (wip) (smut/romance/angst)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
All blood is black in the night (wip) (smut/vampires)
Lilia Calderu (painting)
Matters of the heart (smut)
The sweetness of a poisoned apple (fluff/smut)
True that I saw her hair like the branch of a tree (fluff)
Kneel and please me (wip) (eventual smut)
The world is perfect when I'm with you (fluff)
And in her arms, she cradled your heart (wip) (fluff/family)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Survivor (angst/comfort)
Forever and Always (angst/comfort)
Joan Ramsey
A garden of sorrows shall bloom into hope (hurt/comfort)
Agatha Harkness
Thirsty for more than blood (smut)
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Lily of the Valley (on standby) (family/comfort)
Part 1
Part 2
If it comes down to one of us, I’ll always choose you. (angst/comfort)
Wanda Maximoff / Scarlet Witch
I'll see you in a minute (angst/comfort)
If any of you would like to request a character or a story, please, don't hesitate to send me a DM or an ask. I would love to write for you. As of right now, I have a preference for Patti Lupone in any of her characters, but I would not mind writing Agatha at all. I'm good with smut, fluff, you name it, whatever makes you people happy.
Thank you for the lovely messages I received after I made that post yesterday and decided to retire. After talking with friends and reading the messages, I have made adjustments both in my life and the fic. The story currently has no pairings. I wasn't going to write the romance part yet, and now I feel kinda wery of it, so I chose to carry on with the plot, but with no romantic interests as of yet, so I can decide what to do in the future when I have overcome the negativity and hate. In regards to my life, I'm going to take a break and post when I feel like I'm better and comfortable with doing so. I'm sorry for causing trouble, and if I upset anyone, I apologise. Thank you all for being so kind and lovely.
i’ll tell you why people won’t read your alcina fic. it’s not that hard . you’re writing straight fic about a canon lesbian which is the most disrespectful thing you can do. the argument that people write queer fic about straight characters as well doesn’t hold up because lesbians are a minority who don’t get a lot of representation. for you to take that away and make it about a man again is damaging to the lesbian community . you can take ANY straight or bisexual character out there and write het fic about them but you CHOOSE Alcina who is very vocal about her hatred for men . the motherfucking WRITER of RE8 confirmed it and the voice actress is very vocal about her being a lesbian . you writing straight fic about alcina is like a man saying about a lesbian - I can fuck her straight -
There was never any need for anyone to be cruel and disrespectful like this. I have not offended anyone or done anything that was cause enough for this message to be sent and I don't appreciate the tone or what this person is implying because I haven't caused any harm at all. There are hundreds of fics with Ethan, Heisenberg and many other characters and the world hasn't ended and I was only writing an idea I had and added the disclaimer that although the idea is supposed to be with Ethan, it could be fluid in the future. I accept constructive criticism, but this is not that and I won't tolerate being disrespected like this. You can like it or not but there's no need to be cruel or rude. But hey, whoever wrote this, you got what you wanted. I'm not writing anymore. Congratulations.
Hey guys! I just wanted to come here to seek a bit of feedback and help. I'm writing an Alcina Dimitrescu fic titled "I life, as in death, I lay in a bed of roses" and it seems that there's something not quite right with it since not a lot of people are engaging with it, which is okay, but I would like to know what I can do to improve it and make it more alluring for the fandom. I really would love the help. Thank you ❤️
Pairing: None (Alcina Dimitrescu is the protagonist)
Summary: There was safety in numbers. She had heard that sentence a million times, but it was only now that she had come to realise the truth behind those words. By herself, Miranda was invincible; with Heisenberg, there would be a chance to be free. If the cracks to Hell didn't grow bigger, swallowing them whole, daming them for all eternity.
Warnings: murder, mentions of blood, vampires, mention of violence in different forms, weapons, injuries, cursing...
Author's note: Sorry for taking so long. I've been multitasking like crazy with classes, working on my PhD and a million other things... But I'm here now, and I hope you all like this chapter. Do tell me if I need to be more graphic, if I'm lacking on something, if I'm too graphic... Feedback is always welcome. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's all send a prayer to Alcina Dimitrescu for being such a badass.
Shoutout to @bravewithacapitalb for being my beta reader and also shoutout to @p2pecleanerwitheyes for reading it ❤️
Chp 1 Chp 2
Word count: 19K (As an apology)
Children of love and hate
Morning arrived with a crisp silence. Snow and wind had been howling like a wounded animal for days, but as dawn broke through the mountains, the skies cleared from the sea of clouds that had been covering the village, the white they had grown accustomed to vanishing into soft hues of baby blue and lilacs. No sounds could be heard. It was nearly a strange sight in this region, even in February, but it was welcomed, the tender beams of sunlight that were sliding through rocks, casting golden streaks over the pristine snow, bathing the town in a sweet warmth that seemed to mock the destroyed houses and slaughtered bodies that lay on the ground. After more than a day of lycans howling and ripping flesh, the few survivors that had made it through the night could open their windows with trembling frames and weapons in their hands, ready for the monsters to jump at them, but there were none left.
Grief and death filled every street, every corner and each crack on the wood, but it wasn’t so much those feelings that had them shocked. They did not understand why. Luiza, the kindest woman in the entire village, had been axed to death. Elena had burnt with her father, Luiza’s husband was missing, but it would be a miracle if he was still alive; all of them good people, people that did not deserve to die the way they did, abandoned by their faith, punished for something they had nothing to do with. No one knew why all this had happened, and yet they had paid brutally. Whispers floated in the cold breeze, an old voice chanting through the streets words that could not be understood, the feeling of betrayal so thick that it made the poor souls that were still here unable to breathe.
It would be their mantra for as long as they remained alive: why? Why? Why? They had been faithful, they had given themselves to Mother Miranda, working until their fingers bled, praying until their voices were raw and trembling, bowing their heads and kneeling on the ground when she graced them with her presence. But now? Their whole existence had been forsaken. Though they weren’t the only ones who felt that way. Inside the castle, the atmosphere wasn’t as dark and oppressive, but the sense that danger was looming over its tall towers and never-ending vineyards was felt in the same measure. Alcina might not have to look at rooftops and under houses to see if she was safe, a makeshift axe in her hands, but the villagers did not have to live with the fear of Miranda bursting through their doors, ready to rip their heads off their shoulders for the blatant disrespect committed.
Both sides of the village had their own problems, one could say, but as the silence settled calmly over gardens and shattered wood, they could all agree that they were safe. At least for the time being.
Heavy boots crushed the fresh snow, the hem of a brown trenchcoat brushing the thin layer of loose powder, the footsteps left behind, quiet clanking noises echoing in the air. The walk was slow, practised, a cigar in between his chapped lips while his hands were shoved inside the coat pockets, sharp eyes scanning the path he was so used to now. Crossing the bridge from his factory, using the lift to the ceremony site and then down towards the town square, crossing the river through another stone bridge, its waters usually frozen after blizzards of this kind. And everything was exactly as expected until the lift brought him to the road towards town. The snow around the ceremony site might have been intact, but the moment his steps treaded the slippery stones of the bridge, he could see the stains nighttime had not been able to hide, pink hues on the surface revealing puddles of frozen blood as Karl moved the snow with his foot.
Well, well, this certainly wasn’t something he had expected. If someone had shot a bird with winds of more than 45 miles per hour and impossible visibility, he’d have to recruit them for his experiments, but alas, no feathers were found on the ground, nor bullet shells, as Karl continued walking. His movements were slower now, his senses spiking in distrust for his environment. There were scratched stones on the pillars, torn clothes frozen above the thick layer of ice that had gathered over the slow stream, the shapes of bloody hands imprinted on the ground where someone had clearly fought some sort of animal. Had Karl not known these lands, he might have believed it to be a wild boar, but as he reached the loan road, eyes inspecting every inch that surrounded him, he witnessed the first body, propped against a broken pillar, rough and vicious bite marks on his neck and chest, slashes from some sort of rudimentary weapon cutting through the man’s flesh.
The poor soul’s eyes were glossy, and his skin had that greyish tone that only dead bodies carried, hidden ever so slightly under a thin layer of frost, dried blood staining his clothes, the look of utter horror that painted his features forever frozen in time. Karl’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion because he recognised those marks, and he couldn’t understand how lycans had reached the village when it was forbidden territory. Those things had a strict breeding protocol and were kept far away from humans since their bites were infectious, he had made sure of it. Karl had made it very clear to the leader of the lycans, Urias, that they could not leave the stronghold. Why was he seeing this now? And it wasn’t just this man in front of him; it was the blood splatters on the stone walls, and the shattered limbs Karl could make out from underneath the snow, telling him that there were other victims. This wasn’t a targeted attack; this had been a slaughter.
Wrapping his left index finger and thumb around the cigar, Karl released a puff of thick smoke as he pulled it away, his right hand moving from the pocket to the inside of his coat. After rummaging for an instant or two, his calloused fingers pulled out a revolver, its strap attached to the vest he was wearing. Polished wood glimmered under the sun from its handle, the metal from the barrel chipped in certain places but was in good condition, small carvings filled with gold in the shape of brocades and gears. It had been custom-made by Alcina over fifteen years ago, a gift for his birthday that he had accepted while mumbling something about not being a sissy for golden flowers and shit, he couldn’t quite remember.
He was a jerk on the outside but in his head, he thought the revolver was probably the coolest gift he had received in his whole life, though he couldn’t bring himself to thank her and droll over the weapon like a child, they had reputations and a relationship to maintain and out of principle more than pissing her off, he had played the little bastard he was, but she had gracefully accepted his shitty words with a smug air and a sly smile; the bitch. Still, he silently thanked her for it now, his thumb pushing on the hammer to load the first bullet inside the cylinder.
The silence was eerie, and Karl definitely didn’t trust it; his steps careful while his eyes scanned every corner and every corridor. Lycans weren’t usually quiet, but they could be when staking prey and if they had entered the village when they weren’t supposed to, Karl couldn’t expect them not to attack him, and he really didn’t want to face one of those little shits before his morning coffee. His heartbeat was steady, if maybe slightly faster than he would have wanted, nostrils flaring with each breath he took, the crisp air filling his lungs along with the metallic odour of blood, mixing with the bitter taste of tobacco. Branches cracked and broke around him, the noise of splinting wood making the hairs on the back of his neck stand, the energy his skin could feel floating in the air shifting ever so slightly. A normal man would never pick up on it, but Karl was far from ordinary. Quite far from ordinary.
Leaves swayed in the breeze, trickles of melted snow running down between the cracked rocks, snow shifting under heavy weight. Birds stopped chirping in the distance, the air around Karl freezing completely as if time had been stopped, not even the sound of ruffling leaves audible. The grip on his revolver was steady but hard, knuckles white, the cold seeping through his coat like invisible hands, but he did not move an inch. The doors were right there, but he didn’t dare walk towards them, splinters visible from his spot. One second passed, then two, the intense silence deafening, muscles locked.
In the blink of an eye, the sight of the closed doors became that of a blurry figure as Karl turned around as fast as his feet allowed him. Sudden deep growls drowned in an instant by a loud bang that echoed against the tall walls and into the distance, bouncing through the air to the borders of the village. Arm raised before him, the sleeve of his trenchcoat patched and sown in several places, smoke escaped the barrel of the revolver in delicate rivulets. Karl remained on his spot watching as the creature in front of him stood with its arms raised and clawed fingers bent, ready to strike, a mix between a man and some sort of werewolf with patchy flesh, thick skin and sharp, misshapen teeth. Or what was left of its lower jaw, as the rest of the head had been blown into smithereens, bone and flesh splattered onto the snow.
It had never stood a chance.
Karl had felt it long before the lycan had even seen him, their chaotic energy so loud that it would have been impossible for him to not to notice its presence. They would have never dared come this close to one of the lords before, but the fact that they were here, unsupervised, completely uncontrolled, attacking whoever they wanted without a care, was a dangerous sign. Their protocols had somehow been wiped clean, and there were only two people capable of such a thing, and much to Karl’s dismay, he was aware that both could definitely have done this. Unless all lycans had suddenly become immune to the modifications Karl had worked hard on for years. It shouldn’t be possible, but here he was, surrounded by blood and death.
He had to make sure Alcina and the girls were safe, he thought after a moment. Yes, Alcina was quite capable of handling these things herself, but these fucking monsters would not care about not breaking windows, and they hunted in packs; a bunch of six or seven throwing themselves at Alcina at the same time could make the woman lose her balance and topple over, missing the opportunity to strike. He would not go into that castle like some sort of saviour; fuck, if he did that, Alcina would gut him before he reached the main hall, and he really did not want to put up with a whiny sister, but he could go in ready to shoot if he needed to. He would raise a shield around the whole place if he needed to. For the girls, not for Alcina. Or maybe just a little bit for her.
The destroyed body collapsed at his feet, crumpling like rags as its skin began turning white and hard, the dirty flesh crystallising slowly over the frozen ground, but Karl did not stay to watch the full transformation. Turning on his heels, he headed for the doors, heavy wood creaking as he pushed them, the altar quiet and untouched, not a single speck of blood here, even though there were shreds of clothes lying around the chalice. With each step he took, things became weirder and weirder. These pieces had perfect cuts, precise and long, unlike the ones he had seen around the villagers only minutes before. Alcina was the only one capable of delivering something so pristine, but his sister would never lower herself to picking up dead bodies or cleaning blood from the ground, and she certainly didn’t go around playing games with people.
She struck and killed.
And yet there was no indication that Alcina had indeed been here, no shreds of a white dress or strands of black hair, but it was the only logical explanation he could come up with. Miranda wasn’t an option in this scenario; the blond did not give two shits about anyone but herself and wouldn’t bother killing random villagers like this, though, after seeing the lycans acting this way, anything was possible. Maybe the blond had finally gone clinically insane and had gone on a rampage. And that was beyond dangerous. Patterns were reliable, rules set boundaries, and losing all that in the course of a few hours shattered the delicate balance that had developed after years of coexisting inside this shitshow.
Ashes fell in burning clumps, landing beside his footprints as he returned the cigar to his lips, his lungs taking a long drag as he headed towards the small red metallic gates that led to the town square. Was this the reason why Alcina had called him last night? Did she know why the lycans had gone rogue and attacked the village? It might not have been the main topic of the call, but he suspected it had something to do with it, though there were pieces missing.
He had no clue how Miranda came to play a role significant enough for Alcina to want to help him take her down when she literally kissed the blond woman’s ass every chance she got. They had argued so many times over this, two sides of the same coin, but seeing that everything was going tits up, Alcina could come up to him and tell him that she was going to become a fishmonger, and he would have thought it possible.
He really needed a cup of coffee or some scotch; he wouldn’t say no to either. He just hoped that his older sister could explain what the fuck was going on before he lost his mind and went rogue and blew up this hellhole, himself along with it.
Pushing the gates open, the usually calm and tidy plaza welcomed him in between broken walls and ripped doors, some sort of truck smashed between two houses, blood and cadavers lying flat on the frozen ground under thick layers of snow. They had been there for hours, probably since early in the morning of the previous day. Well, fuck. Those things had had fun in here, he thought, rooftops ripped, crows pecking and feasting on the dead bodies that were scattered on the ground. Yeah, fuck was the only word that seemed to fit the situation like a glove. Through the top edge of his sunglasses, Karl’s eyes circled the plaza, hand on his pocket while the other caressed the hammer of his revolver, loading another bullet from the cylinder just in case.
There were plenty of signs of struggle on the ground, dirt and snow mixed into thick puddles of frozen mud, claw marks raked over the sand, footprints of different sizes partially visible under the fresh layers of snow. The closer he got to the statue of the shielded maiden, the more bodies he found, men and women ripped to pieces like trophies the lycans hadn’t been able to carry back to their lair, only a few bloody trails marked under the ice where the poor souls had been dragged through the mud. It was a scene out of a horror film, with mutilated bodies and broken weapons in what used to be a normal village with normal people. Why had they come here? Why had Miranda allowed it?
Terrified eyes watched through wooden planks and closed shutters as Heisenberg walked around, pushing bodies to the side with his feet, the movement void of warmth but still gentle. He didn’t care for these people, but he would not shame them in death by shoving them aside like they were just an object in his path. Suddenly, the side of a house gave in, collapsing in a cloud of dust and shattered bricks and wood with a loud cascading noise that made Karl turn and raise his gun, but no one jumped out of the rubble, just dirt and the rod of a curtain that rolled down until it hit his boots, the remnants of a curtain still hanging from it.
It seemed that there was no imminent danger thus far, making the lycan he had killed probably leftovers from the last attack, but he didn’t relax fully, only lowered the revolver and turned back towards the church. North of the plaza, one could find a set of double doors carved in stone marking the outer gates of the castle, the graveyard to the left and the church on the right, the road to the stronghold hidden between the immense residence of Lady Dimitrescu and the temple, but it wasn’t an ordinary door. Alcina had ordered two crests to be made decades ago, one of a maiden, another of a demon, and they were both necessary to open it. She had called it security measures so no man-thing could step into her castle and hurt her daughters. Karl deemed it overprotective and unnecessary.
Who the hell would go to the castle of their own accord after all the stories and legends?
Now the gates were wide open, the crests perfectly placed, allowing anyone to enter and leave however they pleased. The sight sent shivers down Karl’s spine. Who the fuck had found them?! They were supposed to be hidden, the demon secured at Luiza’s house east of the village, and yet here he stood, looking at doors as a crow flew by nonchalantly. His steps became hurried as he headed towards them, the gentleness he had shown the cadavers shifting towards worry and anger.
If some fucking villager had opened the gates seeking refuge and had put Alcina and the girls in danger because of it, he’d gut them without a second thought. She might be a bitch, but she was still his sister for fuck sakes! The eyes that had been watching through broken windows widened in fear at the sight of Lord Heisenberg stomping over the snow, every single metal scrap and piece of furniture vibrating at his power, the ground nearly growling in anger with each step he took.
The crow flew by again, screeching above Karl’s head several times, nearly in a mocking manner, making the lapels of his hat move as it flew closer and closer, but Karl’s patience was non-existent and his fuse extremely short. One more screech by his ear, and he pulled his left hand out of his pocket, a sharp motion from his fingers making a broken metal plank fly through the air until it sliced the bird’s head right off, its sounds cut abruptly as it plummeted to the ground with a quiet thud. Fucking things always pestering him.
There were always two or three around his factory, circling the roof as if they were looking for an entrance, and one seemed to show up sooner or later wherever he was. He had an inkling that he was being watched, the sensation swimming through his veins like poison. He could not quite prove it, but he had a feeling, and in these lands, feelings were usually right. For better or for worse.
He did not stop for a moment to check if it was dead, just carried on walking towards the doors with hurried steps, a thin layer of frost gathered on the crevices of the carvings. Looming over him, the castle stood with its imposing presence, towers casting shadows that could make a grown man shiver in fear; so tall it gave the impression they were clawing at the skies. It oversaw the village with power and fear and had been there for centuries. The fortress it had once been became this gothic beauty after many generations, every room unique, but so far away from those peasants Alcina never allowed inside. Even now, with clear skies, fog and translucent clouds seemed to gather at the very top, hiding secrets away from the earth.
For Karl, it was just a castle, though. He might not have grown up here, but it held the familiar atmosphere the Dimitrescu/Heisenberg line carried absentmindedly, so in truth, it was like going home. Sort of. He didn’t fear anything inside those walls, and nothing would ever harm him while he was there, not counting the plates, glasses and other items Alcina could throw at him in anger, but the blood both had caused to each other in nearly a century would never truly constitute as deadly wounds, so it was perfectly acceptable. Right now, if something were indeed in there that wasn’t supposed to, he’d kill first and ask questions later, but so far Karl could not find any trace of blood on the snow as he crossed the wooden bridge, the heavy metal doors parting for him.
That was a good sign, he thought. The stone stairs were worn and quite uneven after decades of a nine-foot woman walking up and down at least once a week, but they were clean, and when Karl reached the hall, the barrels of fruit and crates were intact. Not an apple rolled on the floor and the door that Alcina usually used to get to the meeting site, at the ruins of the church, was shut from the other side, just like he had left it last time. But his relief was short-lived. When he turned around his eyes landed on the barred doors, the lever pushed, and the gates wide open, the cold breeze carrying in an inch or two of fresh snow onto the stone floors. The scarecrows were visible from his spot, vineyards frozen by the blizzard underneath the realistic puppets.
Although there were no signs of struggle, only the pure perfection of pristine ice before him, it didn’t mean that everything was fine. He knew first-hand what it was to find trouble hidden in spotless corners and hallways of gold, and at times they could be far worse than facing a lycan or soldat head-on. The bruises fake smiles and raised hands could cause lingered more than blood spilt by Karl’s mutations or Miranda’s experiments. Snow was the perfect killer, quiet and discreet, hiding crimes under mountains of ice that preserved its murders like trophies, and here everything came hand in hand.
Every movement was calculated, slow, allowing his grey eyes to look over his glasses and observe the terrain. Just a small rock out of place could be an indication that something or someone had got to the castle, but as the breeze picked up and the loose snow crunched under his boots, Karl could not see anything strange, just the same dirt and fences marking the way. Still, the feeling that something was wrong did not leave him. Walking up the path, he saw the spot where the merchant sometimes set up his carriage during the warmer months, now empty as he had been to the castle just a few days prior, not that the blizzard would have allowed him to set up there. And right ahead lay Alcina’s home.
At last, the castle’s entrance came into view, a quiet sigh of relief falling from his lips as the metal gates appeared before him, raised, as they usually were, the blue doors behind them perfectly closed in opposition. One step at a time, he thought, finally entering his sister’s home, the stone porch shielding him from the cold. But once again, the feeling of protection and calm was short-lived. His footprints were not the only ones that left their shape on the ground. They were perhaps about the same size as his own feet, Karl thought as he knelt to examine them closer, his gloved fingers tracing the shape of the irregular lines the stranger’s soles had left. They were too small to be Alcina’s, and the maids only wore heels or flats, not that they had been able to leave the castle since the blizzard began. Karl’s thumb easily rubbed the snow off the ground, the white specks of ice telling him the prints were recent.
With his shoulders pushed back and his hand gripping the revolver, he stood, making his way to the doors. They parted for him without need for him to touch them, the heavy metal making the hinges whine quietly, a wave of warmth welcoming his absolutely frozen body. His muscles relaxed, but his eyes remained sharp, though he wasn’t able to stop a smile from forming when he saw his nieces’ faces painted before him. They had looked like that once upon a time, with perfect rivulets framing their faces and dresses so delicate their lace could rip just by looking at it, but that had been many decades ago.
When Alcina had first taught them how to hunt and transform, their sweet, innocent faces hiding masterful killers that would never age past their twenties. Still, the eyes that stared at him were still the same he saw in his girls every time he visited, no matter how many paintings Alcina hung in her castle, no matter how many photographs Donna took of them, it was as if they were always looking at him with the adoration that made his chest swell with pride; even now.
Tearing his gaze from their immortalised beauty, Karl turned to the left, a wooden door slightly ajar about three feet from where he stood, but close enough for him to see a corridor on the other side. It did not go unnoticed by him the vase that lay shattered in the corner of the entrance, but he chose to ignore it in favour of making it to the main hall. The wooden floors muffled his footsteps slightly, only the clinking of an item or two in his coat pocket breaking the silence. Nothing was out of the ordinary so far; no blood or ripped curtains, not even a table toppled over, just the same old castle he was used to. Making a right turn, a set of double doors cut his walk, and although they were locked from the other side, such an insignificant detail would not stop him.
A flick of his finger and they parted for him as the sea did for Moses.
In all its glory, the glass chandelier and the dark wooden staircase stood before his eyes, the light glinting against each glass embellishment that hung from the ceiling, rugs placed strategically before each door so no one would get Alcina’s floors muddy. The surprising thing was that there was no one around. Not a soul. The girls were nowhere to be found when usually they would be flying down the stairs, even before he had made it to the corridor, no maid trotting through corridors or rooms with cleaning buckets. Not even Alcina was there to welcome him, even though she had been the one to tell him to come over. He had even washed before getting here, and there was no one!
He would have been pissed if it had not been for what he had witnessed in the village, his finger ready on the trigger of the revolver. The silence was eerie, uncomfortable, and it made his skin crawl, even though there was no reason for it to bring in such sensations. Everything was calm, just quiet, but Karl preferred to imagine the worst-case scenario just in case. He had barely made it two steps into the hall when he could have sworn he had heard something, a very distant noise he could not make out fully. He remained frozen on his spot, trying to hear, feeling the energy flowing around him, undisturbed. That put his mind at ease somewhat, but not completely.
Silence filled his head once more, Karl questioning himself for a moment or two. It wouldn’t be the first nor the last time his own brain tricked him into hearing things that weren’t there and seeing people in the dark shadows that lived in his factory. His heavy shoes echoed over the marble floors, his feet carrying him to the left to check the Hall of the Four, or as he liked to call it the Hall of Statues, vases standing proudly around him. He had never cared to ask Alcina why, but when he visited the room would find four statues flanking the set of double doors opposite where he stood, other times, he’d find himself staring at nothing but marble floors.
He could not tell if the girls played with them or if it was a random thing Alcina liked to do to show off her wealth to the maids or the duke. Either way, they were completely unimportant to him, and as he reached the top of the stairs, he saw that today was a no-statues day, the vast room immense when there was no one or nothing in the middle of it. Through the windows that lay high up on the walls, above the balcony that rounded the hall, golden rays swam through the air, specks of dust swimming around the static electricity that coated the walls and high ceilings. It gave the impression of an abandoned castle, corners gathering dust and spiderwebs, brocades of gold losing their glint.
Tearing his eyes from the windows, the ghosts of past lives vanishing through the dust, Karl turned away and began to make his way to the other side of the main hall, the sense that something was completely out of place making itself even more present, flames dying inside the chimney with each step he took. The dining room should be filled with food and expensive cutlery, the smell of eggs and bacon wafting through the doors, but he could not smell anything.
Pulling a pocket watch from inside his coat, he saw that it was ten minutes past seven thirty; not too late, he thought, and yet it was as if dawn had not woken the castle, everyone deep in a hundred-year slumber. Pushing the doors with his shoulder, he saw the wooden panels decorating the room along with the elongated table that presided the centre of it all, a pristine tablecloth keeping the mahogany wood clean, plates and glass goblets set, but no food resting in between the wilting flowers. Seeing this, feeling the homely aura Alcina had built after decades, should give him a sense of ease, but it was even worse to see a well-lived place with nothing but air and empty spaces, its owners falling through the cracks.
A sharp screech sliced through the air making Karl jump slightly on his spot. His heart skipped a beat at the sound. The villagers called them Samca, he called those fucking bastards, and in his most humble opinion, that was the better name. Thankfully, they resided around the castle towers and rooftops, so he didn’t have to see them or shoot them often, but their screams still caught him off guard and pissed him the fuck off. The door whined as they closed, muffling the noises those things were making, but as he stepped back into the hall, he felt it.
He was not alone.
The shift in the energy around him was delicate, controlled and calm, and it accompanied a gentle sound that he could not quite understand, but as the seconds passed, it became louder and louder until he could finally make out a pattern. Intermittent waves that transformed from vibrations into something similar to a buzzing. Well, about dammed time, he thought, a smile breaking from his chapped lips. He had been waiting for that sweet buzzing sound he had grown so fond of, the noise overwhelming his ears and wrapping around him like a soft blanket, the sound filling up the room along with quiet giggles that weren’t really that quiet.
The buzzing slid over the banister with ease, accompanying black swarms of insects as they flew from the top of the stairs to where Karl stood near the dining room doors. Before he could brace himself for the impact, he was tackled and practically pushed to the ground by three young figures that wrapped their arms around his neck and torso while screaming happily, talking a million miles a minute. Every ounce of worry he had had while crossing the village vanished like melted snow flowing down the mountains, the blanket of abandonment that had been engulfing the castle pulled away until gold embellishments shone like diamonds, and delicious food suddenly floated through the air. It was as if he had stepped through a looking glass.
-UNCLE KARL!
Those were the only words he was able to make out from the three of them, everything else was overwhelming and loud, and it made him laugh a deep rumbling laugh as he hugged the girls back. They were probably the most precious things he had in his life, and loved them to the point that he would murder for them, just as Alcina had done before, the motives irrelevant to him. Daniela clung to his coat like a little monkey around his back, bugs floating around her excitedly as her body hovered a few inches from the ground. Her ginger hair framed her rosy cheeks so sweetly.
Bela was softer, holding onto his arm while looking at him like an innocent child full of adoration and love that filled his heart to the point that it seemed to overflow. Her gentle waves of gold bounced as she rose to her tiptoes, her soft voice drowned by Daniela’s loud yammering. Cassandra stood perhaps half a foot from him, having slid her arms from around his neck with a small smile, her hands toying with the skirt of her black dress while her eyes observed him quietly. He knew she had noticed the way his eyes scanned the room even after they had greeted each other, the revolver still in his hand. It was impossible to keep anything from her, her sickle as sharp as her brain and eyes, but there was no need to tell her about this. Not yet.
-Why are you here? Are you going to take us to the factory to kill some soldats? – He had to admit that he felt bad they had been trapped inside the castle for so long, unable to hunt, Daniela’s eyes practically begging him.
-Sorry, munchkin, I have no new soldats yet, and in this weather, I can’t take any of you out. Your mother will gut me.
-But it’s sunny today! – Bela joined the conversation, her doe eyes breaking his heart in a million pieces. It was cruel how she had inherited Alcina’s ability for emotional manipulation. He wanted to give them everything in the universe, to grant them that which Miranda had taken from them, gifting them a freedom that even he didn’t have, but, alas he couldn’t. Not even Alcina had that power, and it ate at them both.
-And fucking cold as well. I was freezing my balls off and slipped on the ice once or twice on my way here. Don’t tell that to your mother. – He pointed a finger at Cassandra, who simply lifted her hands in the air with an expression of innocence that masked that calculating mind of hers. She was already forming the exact words she would say to Alcina later just to make fun of him, but he couldn’t be angry at her. That girl was like a reflection of himself, and in his eyes, she could do no wrong. Tearing his gaze away to look at Bela by his side and Daniela over his shoulder, his fingers worked on uncocking the revolver, the thumb on the hammer, while his index finger pulled the trigger as he released with practiced ease the hammer once again. – Sorry, but no trips yet.
-Fine. But you promise to make more when it gets warmer?
-I’ll make a whole army just for you, kiddo.
-And for me?
-I’ll make a thousand soldats for you, Bela. I might even let you watch you while I transform them and let you screw the plates. You’d like that pumpkin?
-Yes! I could carve cute flowers and animals on the metal and make them special editions.
-I like the way you think, pumpkin.
-But if they are cute, you won’t let me kill them! Where’s the fun in keeping them?
-Not all of Uncle’s soldats are for you, Dani!
-Yes, they are! – Daniela practically crawled over Karl’s shoulder, her voice rising as she pointed her index finger at her sister, waving her hand in front of Bela’s face, trying to make her point clearer. - You have Donna’s weird haulers and her stupid dolls!
-They are not stupid! – the blonde’s grip on Karl’s arm was becoming painful, anger building in her golden eyes, Daniela’s nails digging onto his shoulder even through several layers of clothing. Arguments in this house were ticking bombs, and he was not going to allow a single explosion as long as he lived. Alcina would rip his balls off if one of her precious daughters even showed a minuscule scratch while he was supposed to be watching them. Before hands could draw blood, his voice boomed against the walls.
-ENOUGH! – Both girls quieted instantly, looking at him like toddlers on the verge of tears. He felt horrible for screaming, but it was that or throwing them to opposite sides of the room, and he knew he’d felt way worse if he had to push them away. The guilt lasted a moment or two until he saw the approving glint in Cassandra’s eyes, the middle child standing there enjoying the show. God, she was just the perfect psychopath. – I won’t have either of you yelling and arguing about this. There’s enough soldats for the both of you, but if I hear a single word about this again, you can both find scraps to hunt and kill here because I won’t take you to my place anymore. Got it?
-Yes, uncle.
-Yes. Sorry, uncle.
-I know you are sorry, pumpkin. I’m sure Dani is also sorry, aren’t you munchkin?
-Yeah. But only a little.
-Don’t push it, Daniela.
-Sorry. Sorry.
-There we go. – Karl’s hand patted the redhead’s arm with a wide smile, the tension that had been floating in the air melting away, happiness and joy returning to his girls’ eyes. -Now, tell me what you’ve been up to! It’s been a week since I last saw you kiddos, and I’m sure you’ve done a lot in seven days.
-Oh! Cassie and I are building a giant catapult in the armoury!
-I wouldn’t say giant, Bela.
-A catapult, you say? – Cassandra’s pale cheeks blushed a soft pink shade, her fingers pulling at her sleeves. Doing this sort of thing with her sisters wasn’t as common as one would expect; the dark haired girl preferred to spend her time learning how to use the different ancient weapons her mother had in the castle when Karl could not have her helping him create new experiments, and it showed how much she cared about this project. She didn’t shy away and turned into a walking cherry under normal circumstances. Karl flashed her a proud smile that had her loosening her grip on the laced fabric. - You should show me the plans and measurements, my little hunter.
-There might be some parts that I’m still trying to figure out, and there are some calculations that I think might be off by an inch or so. It’s far from finished or perfect.
-Great! I can give you a hand or two then! Just bring it, and we can go over everything. I might even smuggle some metal scraps the next time I come over.
-Screws of an inch and three-quarters might be a better choice, uncle.
-I’ll bring you a whole box of screws. Just don’t tell your mother, she doesn’t want my shit around her castle. – Winking at Cassandra, a soft giggle escaped the girl, the cold exterior and mask of a perfect killer slipping to allow the real young girl to break through, even if it was only for a moment. Karl ruffled her hair before grabbing Daniela’s body with his free hand and pulling her over his head until she was hanging upside-down with her legs kicking happily over his shoulder. She weighed so little, a side effect from being made out of bugs, or perhaps his super strength made him think she weighed very little; either way she was laughing hysterically, her fingers holding onto Karl’s coat while her hair hung beneath her as if she had electrocuted herself or used too much hairspray. – What about you, munchkin? What have you been up to? Terrorising the maids? Invented a new cocktail that could put your mother in a coma?
-That was only one time, and mother was only out for a couple of days. She doesn’t let me mix her drinks anymore. No, I’ve been doing something way cooler.
-What?
-I’ve been studying the Cadou mother was infected with to see if she might have secret powers she doesn’t know about.
-Have you now? – That was not something Karl would have ever expected to hear, but then again, neither was Alcina’s phone call or the lycans that had attacked the village, and Daniela was a smart girl and could have found out something none of them had known about before. – Anything interesting?
-I’m still in the preliminary stages, but I have done a few tests with maids’ blood, and I’ve noticed that mother is more receptive to certain types like O and, for some reason, AB-. I’m still analysing the other samples, but the healing speed for minor injuries increases from seconds to nearly instantaneous.
-That’s a start and makes a lot of sense, actually. I’m type O and your mother is AB- or was before Miranda fucked us all up. She might be mould negative now.
-What a pathetic excuse for a joke. – Oh well, peace and joy had just leapt out the window he thought, eyes rolling behind his dark glasses as he helped Daniela move over his shoulder and stand on her feet, the girl’s smiles as bright as stars. No one would ever be able to say that they didn’t love their mother. They looked at her as if she had hung the moon and the stars up above, as if she had personally painted every dawn and dusk and every galaxy in the universe, as if Alcina held all the answers and knew all the questions. It was completely different to the way she and Karl had looked at their parents, but it was a welcome change. Turning around, he plastered a fake smile on his lips. – It almost matches you, although that might be too kind to the joke.
-Hello to you too, sister. Still figuring out if hitting doorframes with your head will make a hole?
What the fuck was that? He was supposed to insult her, not do whatever the hell that was, he thought. Cursing internally at his weak words, he slapped himself mentally, his brain extremely aware that he was more than capable of delivering a better comeback than this, one that would actually piss Alcina off until she turned red with fury, not make her smirk as if she had won a fucking prize. He definitely needed a cup of coffee. From the top of the stairs, the nine-foot woman looked down at the scene before her like a queen overlooking her kingdom.
Karl stood about three feet from the fireplace, surrounded by her daughters, his beady eyes looking up at her as if he was sucking a lemon while experiencing testicular torsion on his left ball. It was the same look he had every time she was around, but his expression shifted, and his eyes widened when he took notice of the child Alcina carried in her arms, the little thing nestled against her chest with tiny hands holding onto the dark neckline of her dress.
She had eyes as blue as the sky and waves of hair the colour of sunbeams, opposite to his sister’s onyx strands, but as strange as the sight was, as he had no recollection of hearing her talk about adopting or having a fourth child, he felt an odd sensation that the kid didn’t clash with the woman holding her. She was relaxed, babbling quietly against Alcina’s pale skin, little legs swinging while her hands grabbed and pulled the fabric of her gown gleefully, as if she had always been here, always in her arms.
Had Alcina looked this radiant when the girls had been babies? Karl had met them when they had been a bit older, perhaps ten or so, when they could understand who he was and what role he played in the family. He had missed out on one of the most important moments of their life, and curiosity made his features soften. The cold metal of the revolver seeping through his gloves and onto the skin of his palm reminded him of the weapon he still held, carefully putting it back in his inner pocket. The action did not go unnoticed by Alcina, her brow furrowed for a moment. He knew better than to have weapons out while he was with the girls, a rule he had made himself, but choosing not to address it and worry her daughters, Alcina made a mental note to ask him later.
Step by step, she made her way down the stairs, the way her body moved and practically glided with grace next to the rich oak banister, making her look as if she was royalty. It didn’t stray much from how she had been brought up. Keeping her spine straight and her chest puffed out with ease, her hips swaying softly from side to side, her heels were muffled by the carpet on the stairs, her eyes glued to her brother. The girls might not notice, but she could see the slight tension on his shoulders and the way his eyes still looked over his shoulder behind his dark glasses.
Daniela, oblivious to the thoughts that were running through her mother’s head, grabbed Karl by the arm and pulled him towards the bottom of the stairs, the man following without a fight. If they asked him to jump off a bridge, he was pretty sure he’d do it without a doubt, as stupid as that sounded, but he just couldn’t bring himself to refuse them, couldn’t even pull his hand away, not that there was a reason for him to do so. Behind them, Bela held onto Cassandra’s hand softly, guiding her to where their sister was going, the youngest of the girls stoic in her expressions but allowing the blonde to pull her arm.
-I would have expected you to show up past noon, Karl. Did Sturm lock you out of the factory again? For not having a brain, that thing is well aware of where the buttons for the gates are. Do you need me to put stickers on them so you know which one opens the door and which one closes it?
-For your information, I made him reinforced rooms, so that won’t happen again, you blood-sucking cu..
-Language! There are children present, Heisenberg. – Her eyes narrowed dangerously, her hands pressing the child closer to her chest to protect her against her brother’s utterly vulgar vocabulary. How he hated when she scolded him like a fucking kid! The girl looked young, she wouldn’t remember if he called Alcina anything and everything under the sun, but seeing the way her eyes glowed gold and her mouth twitched, he bit his tongue, the desire to defy her so strong, but his judgment far stronger. It seemed to amuse the child in her arms, her bright eyes staring at him in wonder. He felt his knees grow weak for a moment when her rosy cheeks swelled as she smiled at him, her golden hair plastered against Alcina’s collarbone.
-What I meant to say is that Sturm is safely caged. There, happy?
-Very much, and since you are already here, might as well have some breakfast. If you haven’t eaten, which I very much doubt. That factory of yours has as many rooms as my castle and yet no kitchen.
-I have a gas stove that works just fine and a mini fridge beside my bed. Why waste space?
-That’s exactly what I think whenever I see you. Such a waste of useful space.
Alcina had about two steps left before reaching the bottom of the stairs when Bela let go of Cassandra’s hand and, alongside Daniela, shot out to hug her mother. The youngest of her daughters preferred to hug her without her sisters suffocating her, and so she chose to wait by her uncle’s side while her siblings held onto their mother’s dress, their heads barely above Alcina’s hips. Sweet good mornings fell from her red lips, her voice gentle and caring, like the softest of blankets that wrapped around them and kept them warm, although perhaps it was an illusion brought on by the fabric of her gown.
She was dressed in perfect burgundy velvet that hugged her curves and cascaded down her legs like waterfalls of wine tones and black foam. The delicate and smooth fabric gathered on perfect plaits on the right side of her hip, three perfectly black roses sewn onto the fabric with silver thread as tear-shaped golden pearls dangled from the flowers like morning dew falling from the satin petals, long sleeves covering her arms. The gown stopped a few inches above her breasts, the dark material contrasting with her pale skin as if the blood she had drunk the night before had fallen from her lips drop by drop and had caressed her skin until her whole body had lain in a pool of crimson velvet that darkened as dawn broke through the mountains.
Opposite to the opaque material that covered her figure, black chiffon wrapped her shoulders and chest up to her neck, where a ribbon of velvet and lace kept the dress buttoned up, the same translucent fabric running down her arms in the shape of puffed sleeves until thick burgundy cuffs wrapped around her wrists, two dark pearl buttons beneath her palms. The gown hugged her body with a gentle and delicate touch that matched her flawless skin and manicured nails, her onyx curls shaped and brushed to perfection, framing her face softly.
Today, she had forgone her usual necklace, choosing to keep it in her jewellery box instead, the Dimitrescu house crest embroidered on some of the rose petals in delicate golden threads that kept it subtle but still with her. Rose’s skin was too sensitive and delicate to risk damaging it by wearing the crest with its sharp lines and pointy corners. The skin on her collarbones, sternum and cleavage glinted through the dark chiffon, glowing nearly as much as her cheeks did under the bright chandelier lights, Alcina’s curls reflecting the gentle waves that burned in the fireplace.
Choosing a more simplistic gown and accessories allowed Rosemary to rest her chubby cheek against Alcina’s flesh, and even through the thin layer of fabric that separated them she soaked in the warmth the tall woman’s body seemed to radiate, a tender blanket of safety and comfort. Taking the last few steps, the hem of the dress brushing the marble floor, she came to stand before Karl, towering over the ragged man with a raised eyebrow and a wicked smirk on her plump lips. She was taunting him, soaking in this bickering that drove him insane.
-Says the nine-foot asshole.
-So vulgar. You are just a child dressed in grown up clothes who thinks that cursing makes him more of a man. I’ve seen corpses with more manners than you. Even Rosemary is more behaved than you.
-You talk about manners when you literally drink blood from people?! You think that living in a castle makes you fucking royalty or something when you have the same title as me, narcissistic prick! And who the hell is Rosemary?!
-Don’t raise your voice, Heisenberg. – Her words were quiet but so full of fury and venom that they seemed to echo against the walls louder than Karls, a sheer layer of gold covering her blue irises as a warning, the hand that had been lifting her skirt as she made her way down the grand staircase, raised above his head, her nails elongating inch by inch with each passing second. She would have struck him or come close to doing so if Rose hadn’t whimpered, Alcina’s gaze tearing from his form to look at her baby. Her whole demeanour changed the instant Rose’s eyes looked up at her, her tone much gentler but still severe as she continued talking to Karl, the hand that would have maimed him now caressing the little girl’s soft strands of hair like it was the most normal thing in the world. -Yell at me all you want, but I won’t have you scaring Rosemary. I will rip your intestines out and make you eat them if you make her cry a single tear.
-Okay, okay. – Raising his hands in surrender Alcina visibly relaxed after a moment, a sweet smile returning to her lips. Her eyes shifted from Karl back to her daughters, Bela and Daniela, still holding onto the fabric of her dress on each side of her hips. Cassandra had slowly crept up to where her uncle stood while her mother bickered with him, the weight of her elbow on his shoulder making him turn his head her way, blue eyes watching her over his sunglasses. – Fuck me, it’s too damn early for death threats. I haven’t even had my coffee yet.
-Let’s go and have breakfast, Uncle. There’ll be plenty of time for Mother to throw a chair at you.
-Not if I go into the armoury, she won’t. No chairs there.
Such a toddler, she thought. She heard him loud and clear but chose to be the bigger person and let him recover from her verbal abuse, although internally she was cursing his whole existence. This time, for the sake of not killing him in front of the girls and because she still needed his help, she would let his words slide off her shoulders. With her left hand Alcina brushed Daniela’s ginger locks absentmindedly, Bela’s quiet voice changing the subject with ease.
-We went down to the dungeons a couple of hours ago to see if he was still there, which he is, but when we saw him, he was still knocked out. I thought he was dead, but Cassie could hear his heartbeat, so we just left him there with the maid. I think she was bringing him some water or whatnot, but I didn’t pay her any mind.
-My sweet, you and your sisters didn’t have to waste sleep to check on him. You should have been resting; he could have waited until morning or until I had gone down to see him, but I appreciate the initiative. – Rose’s hands pulled gently on the chiffon over her cleavage, her doe eyes drifting from her chubby fingers to Alcina’s face while the woman talked with her two daughters, Cassandra and Karl in their own world of menacing schemes and tobacco smoke that lingered on his clothes. She could smell hints of soap under those bitter tones, which surprised her. She had expected oil and burnt plastic, maybe even burnt skin from an experiment gone wrong, but today Karl seemed to be full of surprises. Some not as pleasant as she would have wanted, her mind going back to the revolver he had had in his hand.
-We weren’t going to sleep much, and he’s strange. We are curious.
-If he’s awake in the afternoon, the three of you can come with me. If he’s okay and Rose doesn’t need me, I might let you play with him for a bit. Without killing him. But now I need to have a chat with your uncle in the study.
-Wait, what? – The whispered conversation he had been having with Cassandra was cut short as he turned his gaze abruptly towards Alcina, words dying on his tongue as pain shot through his neck, the muscles screaming from the speed at which he had moved, his right hand shooting to remove his glasses. Foggy blue eyes looked at her wide open, as if she had personally offended his whole bloodline, acting as if she hadn’t called him in the middle of the night just for the sole reason of talking with him, but there were priorities in his head that needed to be resolved before he could even begin acting coherent and intelligent. - What about breakfast?!
-Good God, Karl, I’ll have a maid bring a tray full of food so you can stuff yourself until you explode! – The way her hips swayed from side to side was soft, natural to her movement, a touch of gentle grace that even with a child in her arms, she could deliver, her black heels echoing against the marble floors with each step she took, making her way towards the Hall of the Four, Bela and Daniela still by her sides. Karl followed about three feet behind with Cassandra hoovering around his shoulders in waves of bugs simply because she could. - You only think about cigars, alcohol and food.
-The three most important things in life. And don’t act all prim and proper when you smoke like a truck driver and have the Duke bring you caviar and other expensive shit to eat. I have the right to some food!
-Don’t forget that mother has a wine business, uncle.
-Exactly! You own a fucking vineyard, Alcina! Don’t talk to me about alcohol when you are 70% wine and the rest is the stick you have up your ass!
-Quiet child! – Sharp as daggers and dangerous as poison, her voice carried through the halls with such power that it made the girls stop in their tracks. They watched from their spots, analysing their mother in case they needed to intervene; it wouldn’t be the first time and most certainly not the last, but it seemed that even though her blue eyes were shining the brightest of gold, shoulders tense while she drilled her gaze into her brother’s skull, she had no intention of approaching him. With Rose in her arms, she couldn’t grab him and lift him off the floor, or worse, and instead of hurting him she’d made the logical choice of using her height and her words to force him to shut up. Of course, he felt like he had won this round, but Alcina couldn’t let him have that, not for a moment. - My vineyard pays for your extravagant requests, so don’t you dare utter a single word against it, or I will cut you off, and I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t like that.
-Fine! Sometimes I think you train to become even more of a bitch.
God, he had been here for less than twenty minutes, and he was already driving her up the wall. Taking a deep breath to keep her nerves in check, she ignored his whole presence and turned to her middle daughter, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at the ginger girl that who was standing between her and the wall. With a child in her arms that was drooling down her collarbone and Karl making faces behind her back, Alcina didn’t look very menacing, not that she was trying to scare Daniela. Her voice held none of the venom she had practically spat at her brother, but it did try to hold a semblance of authority that her youngest daughter picked up on pretty quickly. Rose, completely oblivious to what was going on around her, was trying to climb up towards Alcina’s neck to grab the velvet ribbon.
-Young lady, do you think it was right to aid your uncle in humiliating your own mother?
-Sorry, mother. I was just stating facts.
-You are lucky I love you, but don’t side with him again. – Grabbing her daughter by the chin softly, she looked over her shoulder at Karl for a moment before locking eyes with her Dani once again, those golden pools staring back with unbridled adoration, a hint of humour on her lips. - I already have to put up with Cassandra doing so; I won’t tolerate another daughter choosing that man over me.
-I will always choose you, mother. I promise.
-That’s my sweet girl. – Alcina felt Cassandra’s gaze on her, the girls’ hands wriggling and pulling on her dress, a nervous tick she had developed after years of unsure feelings and late-night conversations with her mother. With a swift movement from Alcina’s hand, the girl made her way to her, big eyes staring back with a hint of sadness that clung to the woman’s chest. Tenderly, she cradled her sweet face. – Even if you sided with Moreau, I would still love you with all my heart, my love. Don’t ever feel ashamed for loving your uncle, even if it drives me insane. He’s stubborn, untidy and a complete pain in the ass, but he’s still family, and I know he means so much to you.
-I will remember it. Thank you.
-I love you, and I would never shame you. Even though I find his whole existence questionable.
From the corner of her eye, Alcina saw Karl giving her the middle finger, but when she lifted her head, he was standing perfectly still with a fake smile on his lips. If it wasn’t for the fact that she really needed to chat with him, she would have broken his nose already. Alas, Miranda’s shadow hovered over her head like a storm, and the clock was ticking. Priorities had to be met.
-Mother, would it be too much to ask that we be allowed to take Rosie? Since you have to talk with uncle and all that, maybe we can keep an eye on her and show her around the castle.
-If you assure me that no sickles will be in the same room and the three of you will be careful with her, you may.
-I’ll make sure of it, mother. We’ll take her to the Opera Hall and play some music for her. We can practice playing some of our instruments. – With tender movements, Alcina lowered her body so that Cassandra could pick up Rosie, the baby gurgling and screaming against being away from her current mother, but quickly settling in the brunette’s arms the moment her beady eyes found her necklace and lacy dress to grab and drool all over. -Do you like the idea, Rosie? You want your sister Cassie to play the piano for you?
-Oh my God, yes! – Bela practically leapt her way to her sister, excitement making her feet levitate above the marble floors, bugs flying around the blonde and before Rose’s face, the little thing trying to capture them between her palms with loud giggles. - I can rehearse with my new harp, and you, Dani, can use your cello! We’ll perform a whole show for her!
-Why not my clarinet? I know more music for it.
-Cause you lost your box of reeds, remember? – The ginger had proceeded to situate herself behind Cassandra and make all sorts of faces for Rosie while their mother observed them, Karl resting against the wall with his arms crossed but a foolish smile on his chapped lips.- When we were fighting, and you threw the case, and it fell through the window?
-Oh, yeah. Forgotten about it.
-You did what, Daniela? – For a split of a second the ginger’s words had not registered in Alcina’s head, the sight of her daughters with their new sister far too endearing and sweet, but the moment her brain comprehended what she had heard Alcina, straightened her back while staring at her youngest with a stern face and hands on her hips.
-It was an accident! Bela kept coming into my room and stealing my clothes, and I picked up the first thing I had close by. The clarinet was not inside, just so you know. And Bela actually threw her watercolour set and ruined my sheets, mother!
-How many times have I told you that hurting each other is not the way to solve conflicts?! You are sisters, not hooligans.
-Mother, you threw uncle Karl from the top of the highest tower a month ago cause he was judging the new dress Donna had made for you.
-That was a completely different situation, Cassandra, and that’s just how our relationship has always worked. Yours has always been about being kind to each other. I won’t allow any mistreatment in this house! And if I hear a single argument or any items flying through the air, I will ground you until you are all two hundred years old. Have I made myself clear?
-Yes, mother. – In unison, all three girls spoke, their words quiet. Getting scolded was better than getting yelled at, but it didn’t upset them any less. They were sisters, of course they were bound to argue and pretending that arguments would never happen was as impossible as seeing a diamond falling from the sky, but Alcina had to try to keep them from slicing each other to ribbons at least. All part of parenthood, one could say.
-I’ve raised you better than to behave like lycans, and I expect nothing less than for you three to be the ladies you were taught to be. If you can kill with grace, you can have manners and treat each other with respect. And now even more, since you need to set an example for Rose.
-I’m sorry for losing my reeds, Mother. I will ask the Duke to get me new ones the next time he comes, and I’ll pay him from my allowance.
-That’s a very responsible decision to make, Daniela. Well done.
-You are not angry at us, are you?
-I’m upset that you keep fighting Bela, but no, I’m not angry. I love you all with my whole being, and I don’t want you to hurt each other. – They could be a thousand years old, but Alcina would always see them as her babies, those sweet toddlers dressed in white dresses running down corridors while she chased them, their laughs loud and unapologetic, her three angels forever in her heart. She wanted them to share sleepovers until they were five hundred and to go hunting and fishing with no animosity between them. They deserved to be together and never lose sight of each other, so that they would never live through what Alcina had gone through with Karl when they parted ways. - Siblings are important, and none of you should ever have to experience the pain of falling out with each other.
-We won’t, mother. And if we ever do, we know we can come to you to help fix it.
-Always, darling. - She bent until she could cradle Bela’s face between her hands, her red lips pressed gently on the soft skin of her forehead for a moment, her lungs breathing in the soft pine scent of her oldest daughter’s soap. After a few seconds, Alcina separated from the blonde to hold Cassandra’s face and peck her the same way, the oak scent that clung to her dark strands complementing her sister’s perfume. Waiting patiently, Daniela received her kiss after a few moments, the ginger smiling softly while her apple shampoo caressed her mother’s palate and nose tenderly. They complemented each other, and they weren’t even aware of it. She had almost taken a step back when Rose screamed at the top of her lungs, tiny lips pouting, her little hands making grabby motions towards Alcina. She couldn’t help it; she laughed loudly at her demanding little thing for a moment, but in the end kissed her softly on her cheek, Rose gurgling happily once she had got what she wanted. Finally, Alcina was able to step back and stand to her full. -Now run along, girls, your breakfast won’t be ready for a few hours yet. And for the love of God, be careful with Rosemary.
In unison, the girls promised their mother they would be, their hands waving goodbye to their uncle with gleeful smirks, even though the first thing they did was turn partially into bugs and swarm away up the stairs and to the left, Alcina raising her hands for a moment, fearing her baby might slip and fall through the air. Proving her wrong, Cassandra had her little sister securely pressed against her chest, Rose laughing hysterically, her bubbly voice carrying through the corridors until the Hall of Joy’s door shut behind them, their angelic sounds vanishing like foam on the surface of the ocean.
Karl and Alcina were then left in complete silence, the happy atmosphere fading into a heavy fog of secrets and questions that seemed to cloud the skies inside the castle. Slowly, she let her hands fall back over her lap, fingers twisting the fabric around her abdomen while her eyes remained glued to the foyer upstairs. A raspy cough from her brother finally forced her to turn her gaze towards him after a few moments.
-Glad to see the girls are well, but last time I checked, there were three, not four. Did Miranda discard the babe, and in an act of Samaritan aid, you decided to take her in, sis? – From his pocket, Karl pulled out the cigar he had been smoking before, ashes flying from his clothes onto the clean floors, Alcina’s gaze drifting from his face to the dirt over her perfect marble with a sour face. If it wasn’t for his clothes being fireproof, a safety precaution he had implemented around the 80s or so, the heat from the cigar would have probably burnt a hole through his coat; alas, he placed it between his lips without a second thought. From his other pocket, he pulled out a match, the thin wood slightly splintered but still whole, and with the sole of his boot, he set it on fire, the flames waving and dancing before his eyes as he lit the cigar, a puff of heavy grey smoke filling his mouth and lungs. - Not judging if you did, she’s cute as fuck, but I wonder if she’ll turn into a bat or something in the middle of the night.
-Miranda didn’t do anything to her. Not that she didn’t try, but I did not allow it. Would never let her hurt an innocent child like Rosemary.
-You defied her? To her face? No fucking way.
It made more sense for Alcina to turn into Mother Teresa because of a kid than for her to suddenly despise Miranda out of the blue, and yet the fact that he hated that woman’s guts to the point of blinding rage didn’t make him shudder any less at the sound of the venom dripping from Alcina’s voice. For how little his sister had cared about their biological family, a fact he could not blame her for, she would murder for her adopted one without a second thought, the only exception to the rule being himself, because in her books her daughters were the world, even if she had not grown them in her womb or nurtured them from her breast.
They were the reason for her existence, the air they breathed and the water she drank. They were her blood and her bones, and if harm ever came to them, she would shatter herself to heal them; she would slice her flesh to grant them her regenerative abilities and would rip her clothes to keep them safe from the cold even if her whole body froze under ice and snow. She’d take bullets, arrows and bombs for them, life hanging by a thread but never leaving her, watching from bloodshot eyes as her whole world escaped the bitch’s claws. Her four little roses.
And yet one could say that she had a soft spot for him. Perhaps it was because they came from the same blood or because they knew of each other’s wounds and secrets. Maybe it was because he was the only one who could read her just by glancing at her and feel her pain even if they were miles apart, she was not sure, but what she did know was that he was the only one who could help her keep the girls safe. His anger was as much a virtue as it was a flaw.
Karl pushed himself off the wall with childish anticipation, but just as Alcina was about to speak, plump lips parted, chest puffed with a deep breath, he motioned for her to stop with his hands, ashes flying through the air leaving a trail of grey specks and burning ambers that died in mere seconds behind him, muddy footprints smothered beneath his broad frame he had yet to notice but that Alcina watched with bewildered anger. The day he didn’t come trotting into her home bathed in filth would be the day all Hell would freeze over. Flapping his hands like a fish being electrocuted, Karl made sure his point came across clearly. - Wait, wait, coffee first, then you tell me the whole story. I definitely want to be awake for this.
-Because to your primitive brain, hearing a tale is much more important than respecting someone’s home, isn’t it?
-What?
-You could have at least bothered to wipe your feet, you greasy baboon. – She pointed at the floor behind him, Karl looking over his shoulder nonchalantly while taking a long drag from his cigar.
- Oh, that. To be honest, I didn’t even realise my shoes were covered in mud. I was a little busy worrying about whether you and the girls were alive or not. Who the fuck are you calling a baboon?!
-Why wouldn’t we be? If Miranda had caused us harm, I think the whole country would have known. – The indignation at being compared to a primate, which in his case was nearly a compliment, was absolutely ignored by Alcina, her figure turning away from him as she began to walk towards the marble stairs of the Hall of Angels. With a random pointy metal scrap he had pulled from one of his pockets, Karl scraped as much mud from his boots, jogging after a minute or two to catch up with his sister.
-I wasn’t talking about Miranda. It was more along the lines of a swarm of lycans that have savaged the village, and the fact that the gates to the castle are wide open when they are supposed to be sealed. You know, details.
-Lycans wouldn’t dare get in here, and if anyone did manage to cross the gates, I would slice them to ribbons before they even made it to the entrance hall. Not that they would be stupid enough to attempt such a thing.
-Yeah, well, one of those little mutated bastards attacked me near the altar, so forgive me for not trusting those things anymore.
-They did what? – Halting abruptly in the middle of the room, beams of molten gold breaking through the windows and reflecting on the pristine marble walls, Karl nearly crashed against Alcina’s ass, the woman turning so fast her curls bounced around her face while the dark velvet skirt of her dress flowed between her legs like rivers of blood. Those deep blue eyes so similar to his stared dumbfounded, almost as if she was considering his words to be lies, but she knew. It was impossible not to know when his semblance became dark and hard beneath the rim of his hat.
-It came out of nowhere and tried to kill me. It just straight up jumped at me, but I shot it before he even realised what was going on. That’s why I had the revolver in my hand when you came down the stairs. I would have put it away, but the girls ambushed me, and I just forgot, but I did unload it. – he seemed so old, the weight of the slaughter heavy on his shoulders making his wrinkles so deep, the white walls around them giving him grey hairs that faded beneath the shadows of his own hand as he removed his heat, running his fingers through the soft strands as if he was trying to find the words to express his thoughts. - You should see the village, Alcina. It’s not even a ghost town anymore. Everything’s blown up, ripped apart or simply gone.
-I must say that I saw last night some of the destruction, but I didn’t pay it much mind because of Rose. I was too preoccupied with her to notice what was going on around me. – Her words faded into silence as her eyes landed on a scrawny maid cleaning inside the merchant’s room, books and ledgers bound in leather filling up bookshelf after bookshelf. With a swift motion from her perfectly manicured hand, the girl rushed to where Alcina and Karl stood, her eyes fleeting between them both and the ground. -Bring some coffee and a plate of eggs and bacon to the study and make sure they are runny. Go!
With a fast nod that made the maid’s hair bounce, she rushed to the kitchen, stumbling on the stairs slightly but not nearly falling. Alcina could do nothing but shake her head in disappointment. It was so difficult to find good service these days, or at least staff that didn’t make mistakes every time she was in the room. Terrified as they were she’d kill them when, in fact, she only got rid of the useless girls that could not be shaped into proper maids. If they bothered to talk with the housekeeper or the head maids, they would soon find out Alcina didn’t kill her staff unless strictly necessary, but rumours were so loud in the village and echoed inside her castle to the point of poisoning the young thing’s minds with lies and legends.
It was a lost battle, and at the end of the day, she did not care about any of them as long as they did their job, so words could be spoken and screams would still be heard from the dungeons. Returning her gaze to her brother, her words carried a worried tone that made her wince internally, even if her face remained emotionless. Lycans were now straying and attacking them, too? The girls were not used to lycans fighting back, nor were those things usually in their hunting grounds, but if they were roaming free killing anything in their path… She’d have to teach her daughters to be more vicious and to defend themselves until all this was solved because keeping them inside when the weather got better would be nearly impossible. If it was ever solved.
-Are there survivors?
-I think there might be a person or two, but I don’t know. It was creepy as fuck crossing the village. There are dead bodies everywhere, the streets are destroyed… It’s like the aftermath of Friday the 13th with blood in every corner.
-And Miranda is yet to come forth and tell us what the hell is going on. – The double doors on the right side of the room creaked as she pushed them, her tall frame ducking under the threshold, all while Karl strolled into the corridor with the cigar perched between his lips. Heels clicked over wooden floors, the shine and brightness that enfolded the Hall of Angels so different to the dark foyer of yellow wallpaper and warm oaks that surrounded them now, showcases and drawers decorating corners, two lines of peeling wallpaper marking a hidden door that Alcina had stopped using decades ago. -Typical of her to worry about herself and not give two shits about us or the people that have served her for decades. Is this how she protects her children? Utterly pathetic.
-Fucking hell, you really are pissed with her.
-Aren’t you?! We have monsters killing without a care, attacking us when they are supposed to fear us, and she’s busy in her laboratory doing God knows what waiting for someone to deliver Rosemary in tiny pieces! You’d have to be either heartless or on her side not to feel even an ounce of anger.
-I bet Moreau is happy as fuck. She could literally gut him alive, and he’d be stupid enough to thank her.
-Of course, he would be. His brain’s all seaweed and cadou. – At the end of the corridor, a small wooden door stood, the narrow frame making it difficult for Alcina to manoeuvre without stumbling ever so slightly, a detail that anyone else could have easily missed, but not Karl. He noticed, and he snickered, snorting quietly as Alcina’s lips pursed so as not to bite back. With practiced grace, she adjusted her gown after a moment, stretching her back discreetly. Karl flicked the ashes from his cigar onto the floor, hands in his pockets while we walked with his chest puffed and a smirk hidden behind a cloud of bitter smoke, his head a minimum of three feet from the threshold his sister had brushed with the crown of her head. -What else would you expect from someone who’s grateful for mucus vomit and who sounds like he’s swallowed a plunger?
-Fair enough. Though I would be pissed if I had webbed feet and smelled like rotten fish.- The pattern of wooden walls followed them into Alcina’s drawing room, a prelude to her study where a small coffee table made out of alabaster marble lay in the centre, a bowl of bloodied fruit resting on top, white settees meeting his eyes while a chimney stood dormant to his right, a set of double doors to his left. She had made him wait there so many times that he had developed a visceral hatred for the paintings on the walls and the embroidered fabric on the armchairs, and if she made him stay there just to piss him off, so God help him, he’d fight her. The idea did cross her mind for an instant, but she discarded it, choosing to talk with him instead of angering and upsetting him. Her right palm lay flat on the door, pushing it open.
-You smell like sweat and grease on a good day, Karl. You are no one to talk.
-Oh, fuck off. - he wasted no time walking into the study and plopping onto one of the big armchairs with pink roses on their upholstery, boots dangling from the armrest. Alcina didn’t sit, she walked over to the window, pulling the thick curtains to the side to let the warm and tender light of morning burst into the room, the documents and books that rested on her desk catching Karl’s curious eyes but he was too comfortable where he was, and without his coffee, he was too lazy to bother being nosey. Her pale blue eyes watched the perfect snow that shone over her vineyards, mountains tall and impressive in the background, while her fingers followed the wooden windowsill.
-It’s strange to see all this beauty when everyone outside this castle is dead or dying. And Rosemary would be one of them if it hadn’t been for me.
-About the kid… Why did you rescue her? There are plenty of children in the village, well, there were, but you took this one in. Is it because Miranda wanted her? You can be a bit of an egotistical fuck, but you wouldn’t fight that bitch for a kid unless there was a good reason.
-If I didn’t know how much you hate her, I’d probably say that if I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.
-I’d believe anything anyone told me about Miranda. Have you seen the woman? She’s a psychopath with a pretty face, which makes her a double psychopath because she will commit crimes and get away with them without even a warning. Just look at what she’s done to the village. In my most humble opinion, she’s capable of way worse than we are aware of.
-I’m afraid I have to agree with you on that statement. As much as it pains me to do so.
-It won’t kill you to tell me I’m right once or twice in your life, bloodsucking asshole.
-I would never say you are right about something, you empty headed baboon. – She turned halfway to meet his gaze, the dark brown hat he had been wearing lying on the floor next to the armchair, his body gently perched over a white pillow with his head resting against the back of the chair, cigar dangling from his fingers, ashes landing over her Persian rug. He looked like a doll that had been thrown onto the chair without a second thought, legs bent over the armrest, back bent between the cushions and the back of the seat, but he looked comfortable enough not to move, his greyish eyes locked onto his sister’s tall figure. - It might make you believe you may be intelligent when, in fact, brain eating amoebas would starve inside your head.
-You know, Alcina… Being insulted face to face is much more proactive than having you scream at me over the phone. It gets the circulation going and gives me enough energy to plot my revenge against Miranda, though I suppose that if you now hate her, I’d have to remove you from my hit list. Which is shit, cause I had this whole scenario mapped out so I could beat your ass and dance over your corpse.
-Why do you have to be such a vulgar cretin?
-Runs in the family I suppose.
A gentle knock on the door paused their conversation, a bickering of sorts they had developed over the decades of being stuck inside this village, a way for the two of them to let of steam without actually killing anyone, their regenerative abilities a most wonderful addition to their family fights. Alcina stared at him with furrowed brows for a second before telling whoever was at the door to come in. The handle pushed slowly until a pathetic little maid appeared beneath the threshold, a silver tray in her hands.
Without a word, eyes glancing between the lady of the castle and her brother, she laid their breakfast on top of the mahogany coffee table that stood between Alcina and Karl, steam coming off the delicious plate of eggs, the salty aroma filling up the room in delicate waves. The tall woman barely acknowledged the girl, her eyes fixed on Karl as he sat straight in his seat, hands shooting to pour himself a cup of delicious black coffee, the dark liquid filling up one of Alcina’s periwinkle porcelain cups with ease, staining its white bottom, a drop or two landing on the saucer underneath.
He breathed the fragrance deep into his lungs as the maid retreated back towards the drawing room, the door shutting closed softly behind her trembling frame. He didn’t offer or ask Alcina if she wanted some as well, simply poured another cup, two lumps of sugar sinking inside the black liquid, before popping a piece of bacon in his mouth, a fork in one hand and his cigar in the other.
-This is delicious. You have to tell the Duke to bring me some next time he comes over. – taking a long sip from his cup, he let the bitter taste dance over his tongue for a moment, the heat burning his lips ever so slightly, but he didn’t care. For what it’s worth, Alcina had the best produce in the village, probably in a several-kilometre radius, and he loved to eat at her place even if he had to see her face while doing so. One couldn’t have everything, he supposed. – Fucking hell, so much better now. Go ahead with the tale of Miranda and the rescued kid. If there’s blood and a girl’s fight, don’t forget to give me details.
-Such a childish, disgusting thing to say. – he was too busy shoving eggs into his mouth to retort back, cheeks swollen with food, small bits of bacon clinging to his moustache as he devoured his breakfast. In less than a minute, he was already three quarters down in his cup of coffee, and there were no signs that he would be slowing down anytime soon. - Have I ever told you about the first night the girls spent here, Karl?
-I don’t think you’ve ever told me much about when the girls were babies. – at least he had the decency to swallow before speaking, she thought, her regal frame still perched by the window. - Maybe random stuff and an anecdote here and there. Why do you ask?
-That night was probably the most important of my life, and although I had the girls, I was all alone. Miranda didn’t stay, and you… I didn’t know where you were or if you were alive. – It wasn’t the words that stunned him; it was the expression and the silence in her eyes that told him what she couldn’t voice. I would have felt more confident if you had been there; I would have felt protected, less unsure of my actions. For a moment, he let go of his primitive manners and simply stared at her, those perfectly manicured and pale hands tracing the rough surface of the windowsill. – I remember like it was yesterday how I had laid them all three on my bed. I didn’t have cribs or anything suitable for them so I had made a barrier with all the pillows I could find until I had made a sturdy rectangle and laid them in the middle of it. Their little legs were still bent as if they had just come out of my own womb, their hands curled into tiny fists, their small mouths sucking on them without a worry in the world.
> They were so tiny and, although I wasn’t as tall back then, I was still bigger than an average human, and I thought that if I touched them, I’d break them or hurt them. I was terrified of my claws and wore gloves for half the night, controlling my abilities to the extreme because I couldn’t fandom not causing them harm by accident, while I watched them because I needed to make sure they were still breathing. I didn’t do any of that because Miranda had brought them to me, I didn’t care about why she had discarded the girls the way she did, I did it because they were newborns, so small and vulnerable, waiting for someone to hold them and want them that the moment I laid my eyes on them, I fell in love in a way I never thought possible. That first night, I spent it watching them until my eyes burned and my back screamed from how I was sitting next to my bed, jumping at every movement, touching their soft cheeks when they made noises to settle them back to sleep.
-You never loved our blood relatives the way you love the girls. It doesn’t matter that you didn’t bring them into this world; you gave them what every child needs; love, happiness, laughter, discipline, and did it all without asking for anything in return. You are more a mother than Miranda ever could be, Alcina.
-It’s not just that, Karl. – eyes shifted to stare out the window, her reflection blurry against the glass, birds flying at the other side as the sun rose slowly up in the sky, the warm glow melting ice and snow drop by drop, the thin tendrils of melted water finding the streams and rivers frozen beneath layers of thick, pristine ice that would not vanish until spring came, naked branches holding onto the powdery white snow in perfect equilibrium. - When Miranda knocked on my door with a fake smile plastered on her face, she was holding a wooden crate and told me there were some subjects that had failed to perform adequately in an experiment, and she thought it wise to give them to me to do as I pleased with them. I had expected a lycan or some braindead corpses that she wanted to get rid of, but she handed me three babies like it was a transaction, calling them failed subjects instead of the children they were. I don’t know why I didn’t see the disgust and the boredom on her face, but I remember clear as day the way she had them in a crate with dry and shrivelled potatoes at the bottom, wrapped in scratchy blankets, without even checking if I had a grip on them before letting go.
-Somehow, it doesn’t surprise me the detachment. To her, we are nothing more than experiments; it just so happens that you and I were the most successful of the bunch, while the rest either died, turned into lycans or were so broken that their humanity fragmented, like in Moreau’s case. Why did she create the girls and then label them as failures… I have no fucking clue, but it shows how little she cares about those who don’t give her the results she wants.
-I have often wondered what she was seeking and why she deemed them that way, but back then, I was so blind with love for the girls and adoration for Miranda that I considered what she had done to be a gift, so I never questioned her. I’ve been grateful for decades for something that she probably forgot about the moment she went back to her laboratory, because they never left a lasting imprint on her. They simply existed one moment, and then they were no longer her responsibility the next.
-That’s Miranda 101 right there. She tells you over and over that she’s practically making you a favour, that you have to be grateful for her saving you or turning you into a creep with ten arms, and whether you agree or not with her words, you are fucked either way and have to smile through it all. In a way, her getting rid of the girls by giving them to you was actually a good thing for them.
-If she had wanted to, she could have murdered them in her laboratory and no one would have ever known about them, but I was so sure she had given them to me for a reason, that perhaps it was due to her being a mother herself, that she wanted them to either perish away from her so she wouldn’t hurt when she lost them, or for the babies to get a chance at a good life with me, that even though they weren’t what she expected she wasn’t going to cut their short. I had no reason to doubt her back then. I was young and thought the world of her when, in truth, Miranda doesn’t possess the capability to think about anyone but herself.
-If you are trying to say that she’s a heartless bitch, I could have told you that in less than thirty seconds, but hey, I’m static that brain of yours is finally noticing she’s not some goddess that needs to be worshipped. She’s exactly like us but acts like she’s above everyone cause she’s powerful and nuts.
-She’s been calling herself our mother, the mother of everyone in the village, for a century and has prided herself on talking about her lost child as if we were the cause of her death and at the same time the ones that are expected to resurrect her. No one has dared to go against her because she knows how to manipulate us to the extreme, using our dreams and desires to control us like puppets. – unable to stand still anymore, Alcina turned away from the window, her dark heels clicking over the marble floors of her study before she stepped onto her rugs, the noise muffled by thick fabric, her hands moving as she spoke. Anger and tension built deep within her muscles, her gaze flickering between her cup of coffee and her brother, his relaxed demeanour, hands working on his breakfast once more, grating on her nerves. - She knew I wanted to be a mother, and so she showed up with three babies, practically telling me that I was saving them when, in fact, she was making me believe she could never harm a child and that she trusted me enough to bring up the girls on my own. She played me and lied to my face, acting like a grief-stricken woman, but no mother, no matter what, would take a stranger’s child and commit the atrocious acts she wanted to perform on Rosemary.
-Rosemary! That was the name. I’ve been trying to figure out for the past twenty minutes if you had called her Rosamund or not. It kinda suits her, actually. – arms crossed over her chest, lips pursed, she stared at him with a raised eyebrow, frustration practically steaming off her body. He didn’t notice for half a second until he swallowed the last bits of his coffee and saw her face over the rim of his cup, and like a little kid, he cast his eyes towards the floor, mumbling an apology through his egg covered moustache. – Sorry. I trailed off a little. What heinous acts are you talking about?
-She wanted to slaughter Rosemary.
-She what? – fork froze halfway to his mouth, egg yolk dripping from the edge of the bacon, his gaze ripping away from his food to look at her, eyebrows raised and mouth slightly ajar. – Like, actually grab an axe and chop her up like a pig?
-I would have preferred a less gruesome analogy, but yes. – walking no longer seemed like something she wanted to engage in and so she sat across from him in another armchair, the seat perfectly suited to her height, legs crossed and she picked up her coffee, steam no longer twirling in the air while the cup remained hot to the touch, teaspoon resting on the saucer. Slowly, she stirred the sugar into her drink. – I don’t know where she found Rose or why she wanted her in specific, but she had a very clear plan in her head, and I just couldn’t stand there and watch. Besides, it was too cold for such a little thing to be outdoors.
-Why were you out so late? It’s not like you to go out in this weather and after dusk.
-I could hear the commotion coming from the village all the way to my private rooms, and the staff were all over the place, crying and whispering about fires and the things they were seeing from the windows. I got fed up with their pathetic work, so I decided to go down and see what the problem was myself, because usually their work is pitiful, but last night it was borderline deplorable, and I couldn’t fire all of them. Everything was relatively fine until I walked past the church. That’s where I saw the first lycans with cadavers in their claws, but the moment they saw me, they retreated back to the woods with their trophies, so I paid them no mind.
-They didn’t try to attack you? – She’d always had privileges, but this wasn’t fair, he thought, it’s not like I wanted to be munched to death by those bastards, and yet here they were, him minus one bullet in his revolver and Alcina calmly sipping her coffee with her pinkie not touching the porcelain. God, how he hated that snobbish part of her that she wasn’t aware of. It showed their upbringing too much for his liking.
-No. Maybe they felt that Miranda was close by and chose not to become ground meat. Anyway, I continued down the path, but although I could hear howling and screams, everything seemed to be in order around the plaza, houses still intact and no fires that I could see. I honestly thought for a moment that perhaps my staff had been lying or trying to pull a prank, but then I heard Miranda’s voice coming from the Altar and headed that way, hoping to talk with her and see what was going on, but I hadn’t even opened the doors more than a few inches when I heard Rosemary crying, drowning Miranda’s words. From where I stood, I could see her with the baby in her arms, no blanket or coat shielding her from the cold, and she was talking to four clocked men. I couldn’t see their faces, but I sure could smell their man-blood. In front of them, there a stone slab I had never seen before, where the chalice of the giant usually is, and I swear to everything in this world, Karl… I heard her tell those men to dismember Rose. Not kill her, dismember.
-Why the fuck would she tell them to do that? I can understand murder, but that? Ripping a child’s limbs right off without giving two fucks?! That’s crossing a line, even for Miranda!
-But that wasn’t the worst part. She told them to put Rose’s head, her torso, legs and arms in four separate jars because, for some reason, she was going to give them to us; for safekeeping, I assume. But just when I thought she was done and she couldn’t say anything even more horrid, she asked for the girl’s heart to be put in a different container and to be given to her. Like she wasn’t a baby but some sort of toy she could destroy and then put back together!
Porcelain rattled as her hand slammed onto the mahogany table before her, coffee spilling over the rim of her back and onto the saucer as she practically shattered it next to the pot. Her breaths were angry and sharp, nostrils flaring in anger, nails digging into the wood almost as if she could see the scene playing before her, the blonde cradling Rose without any softness, not caring how the babe’s terrified cries ripped through the air and melted amongst the screams around them, the flames burning on the slab flickering in her eyes, manic and hard. That wasn’t the woman she had defended and adored all this time; the Miranda she saw last night was her true, cruel self, Alcina’s piece on the chessboard moving to its rightful place away from her, a white Queen facing the black King through the pieces that separated them, that had always been there and she had never seen. Karl didn’t dare finish his food, a little bit scared of her fury for a moment, watching in real time how her breaths slowed down as she calmed herself.
– I didn’t question my instincts, simply made the choice without thinking about the consequences, because no matter what happens, Rose did not deserve to die last night, and I wasn’t going to allow it even if I had had to fight Miranda. So I made my way to the Altar, ready for anything but she flew away before I had taken more than a couple of steps, leaving Rose lying on the slab and those men with their axes, ready to strike. I obviously didn’t give them time. Before they knew what was going on, I had sliced them to ribbons, and Rose was safe and warm inside my coat, perfectly unscathed.
-And that’s why you called me. Miranda had plans for the kid, and you taking her fucks them all up and gives us an advantage to get rid of her and protect the girls. – well, Well, well, how sweet it was to be right and to have his stuck-up sister finally agree with him. It felt like drinking the most aged and expensive whiskey while smoking pure Cuban cigars as he watched Miranda’s whole world crumbling at her feet. Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he stood up, arms open to Alcina as he walked over to her. - Never thought we’d be on the same boat about that bitch, but welcome to the “Heisenberg wants Miranda dead” club. You are the second member to join, congratulations.
-We will not address the stupidity that just came out of your mouth. – Defeated, Karl raised his arms in the air before letting them fall to his sides, his smaller frame turning away as Alcina stood to her full height, cigar still burning in his right hand, dusty hat crumpled on his left. He watched her walk away, unsure if their conversation was over or if she needed a short intermission, his doubts dissipating the moment she reached the double doors, her body partially turned to look at him, hand resting on the upper golden frame. – There might be some truth to what you said, but Rose is not the only thing that made its way into my castle last night. Follow me.
Anticipation and curiosity spiked in his chest, his steps quick to keep up with her long but graceful strides. The light that bathed the Hall of Angels was brighter now, the once gentle golden hues now sharp yellow waves that brushed Alcina’s dark gown, its reddish tones shining like blood dressing her pale skin, onyx curls bouncing with each step she took. The difference between the sun and the light from the chandelier was quite noticeable, the artificial beams that reflected off the dark mahogany staircase underwhelming compared to the details sunlight brought into the castle. Alcina crossed the main hall in just a few seconds, head held high, dress brushing the marble floors, dancing and flowing between her legs and around her feet, Karl’s less glamourous figure jogging behind her, specks of dry mud falling off his boots.
The dining room was no longer bare and dark when they entered it, Karl’s eyes moving from the ceramic plates with steaming steaks to the full glass goblets that rested over the same pristine tablecloth, silver spoons and forks glinting in the morning light that was slowly bathing the courtyard, it’s doors at the other side of the long dining table. The kitchens were to their left, through a tiny door that Alcina absolutely despised and only used a few handful of times per month but after the blizzard that had engulfed the village for days there was no way they could cross the courtyard, and so they had to use the normal way to the dungeons instead of the secret paths.
Bending her body to the point of nearly kneeling on the ground she made it to the corridor at the other side, throwing a murderous look at Karl as a warning. Say one single word, and I’ll gut you. He kept his lips sealed. The smell of delicious food and the sound of quiet chatter reached his senses, maids moving around with practiced ease as they cooked, their actions halting the instant their eyes fell on Alcina, who thought the woman didn’t spare them even a good morning, simply made her way towards the basement doors. Karl, unable to stop himself, winked and smiled at the young things, easing the atmosphere slightly, two of the girls even daring to blush before he disappeared down the stairs behind his sister.
-Why do you flirt with them when you are completely uninterested? It’s a waste of time and effort. – Cracked windows stood to his right, the rooms becoming harsh and naked, a hole in a wall the only way to go to the dungeons, broken planks and wooden splinters scattered on the floor, the light of day fading as a tunnel swallowed them, fire being their only guidance. Voices were barely heard, whispers in the distance that faded as they carried on with their journey, heels echoing like languid whines of pain as they turned to the left and down a set of worn stone stairs.
-Why not? It’s fun and makes them relax a bit. You want professional and hard-working girls, so just let me do my thing, Cina.
-If it pleases you, go ahead, but don’t lead any of them on. I can only tolerate your stupidity under this roof.
The maze of half-broken cells and ruined walls would have made anyone else confused and frustrated as they sought an exit, but to Alcina it was as normal as getting up from bed and sitting at her vanity. Torches burnt bright and hot from their posts on the walls, marking the way to the castle’s depths, death and misery clinging to every crack the way darkness bloomed in distant corners. Karl could never remember if they had to go left or right or if the path was blocked by bars, but Alcina swam through the gaps as smooth as water running down a stream. Arriving at another set of stairs, snow piled at the bottom, the atmosphere grew tense, as if they had to brace for what was to come.
Even their movements were slower, careful, unexpected sunlight bursting through a gap in the ceiling from where is had collapse decades ago, cold biting at her skin like daggers. It seemed that the brightness they were witnessing could only survive near the broken stones, the surrounding darkness too strong, devouring every ounce of light it could find, hiding secrets in its hands. A shiver ran down Karl’s spine, not from the cold, from something else that made the hair on the back of his neck stand, his senses spiking as if they were aware of something he could not see. Alcina did not notice, used to the feeling of lost souls screaming at her in silence, her hand grabbing a nearby candelabra that rested over some crates, the frozen metal biting at her flesh.
- Light, please. – Karl pulled another match from his pocket, but this time he used his own thumb instead of his boot to light it, small flames flickering gently as each wick began to burn, casting shadows against the stones where humidity dripped onto the ground slowly, puddles freezing over blood stains that had seeped deep into the rocks and would no longer vanish.
-Can you give me a clue as to what you are going to show me?
-And spoil the surprise? Absolutely not. – he could not say what he was feeling could be labelled as a surprise, but he didn’t push it. The scent of moss and metal mixed in the air, rusty and dangerous as they walked past empty cells, the creaking of chains like howls of pain and misery that clung to invisible ghosts, haunting their steps, following, begging for release. The biting cold faded slowly the deeper they went into the dungeons, heels echoing sharp and loud, the candlelight shining against Alcina’s face, her massive shadow practically overtaking Karl’s figure behind her, hiding him. - I’m positive you’ll like this far more than the knowledge of me defying Miranda and the fact that I gave you another niece. It will be a most useful asset to our revenge.
In the distance he could hear her. Was it really her? The woman that had seeped into his blood with her teeth and her words? The one that had cradled his child, or had it all been a horrid nightmare? His body felt too heavy and the pain clang too much to his bones to be anything but real, but he was so tired. He was so very tired.
Electricity crackled around Karl in excitement the closer they got to their destination, Alcina’s smirk growing bigger and bigger, her features harsh under the candlelight and yet she remained as beautiful as death, long eyelashes hiding flashes of gold in her pale eyes. The corridor was long and it seemed to never end, but as Alcina slowed her steps, her dress brushing the ground, a closed cell came into view, Karl’s eyes narrowing in the dim light to see what was inside. His whole body shivered with electricity as if he had found the source of the powerful energy that had shifted the atmosphere down here.
Before them, behind thick bars covered in rust, lay a man, his body shivering under a thin blanket. To be honest Karl had not expected this, the stranger’s fade unknown to him, his clothes odd, perhaps foreign, face scratched and bruised from what he could make out under the candlelight. For an instant neither of them spoke as they watched the man, Alcina’s acute hearing waiting for his heart to beat, a relieved sigh escaping her lips when she saw his chest raising and falling, lungs filling up with mouldy air all while her brother took a couple of tentative steps, curious eyes observing the damage caused to this stranger that his sister had deemed important enough not to kill him. His left hand was bandaged, two fingers missing, stitches on his cheek and ointments on his wounds, but none of that struck him as odd; he was in Alcina’s castle after all. He was alive and that was what was throwing him off.
-Who is he? – Karl’s voice was barely a whisper, but it echoed like a whole orchestra, the booming sound drilling into the man laying on the wooden bed.
-That, my dear brother, is Rosemary’s father. Ethan Winters.
What? What? It took him a minute to comprehend what Alcina had just said, words bouncing inside his skull as if they were in another language, but the moment it finally clicked like a bright lightbulb going off in Karl’s head, his once curious gaze shifted into unbridled surprise. Now that was something he truly hadn’t been expecting, not in a million years would he have even dared to imagine such a thing, but hell, Alcina was playing her cards damn well. He almost envied her for incarcerating Winters instead of himself, but he had to admit that she had the infrastructure and lacked the patience for strangers’ bullshit, he would have killed him in the end. Besides, it looked like she had granted him a better treatment than she would have done for any other prisoner, so Winters had that going for him. His chapped lips settled into a smirk as his right arm rested above his head over the cold bars, eyes boring into Ethan’s flesh.
-Let me get this right. Not only did you take the kid Miranda wanted to sacrifice, but you also have incarcerated the man she wanted us to kill.
-Which is why I called you. I could have used him to destroy her by myself, but I thought that your plan would be more advanced and well… He has proven to be quite a delicious prisoner.
-Alcina, you are fucking fantastic. A maniac, yes, but brilliant.
-Tell me something I don’t know, brother. – This fucking bitch. He had to laugh, loud and roaring against the cells, the thrill of power, of being one step ahead vibrating through his veins. Even Alcina could feel the excited static floating through the air, dominant and vast. Her tall frame towered inside the cavernous room like a totem of death, looming, drinking in the control, her plump lips painted into a sharp smile. Through half-closed eyelids Ethan saw her face, fair and dangerous, but so enchantingly beautiful that not even his brain could figure out if she was real or just in his head. He did not see the bearded man that smiled as if he was about to devour him whole, sharp canines shinning under the flames.
-Wake him up. Let’s see why Miranda is so afraid of the so-called Ethan Winters.
Pairing: None (Alcina Dimitrescu is the protagonist)
Summary: How had she been so blind? How could her own desire to live and be loved cloud her judgment? If only she had listened to him when he had spoken of her mostruous experiments, if she had believed his bitter words... Her perfect children would have been free. Alcina would have been free.
Warnings: nudity, mentions of blood, vampires, drinking blood, mention of violence in different forms, weapons, injuries...
Authors note: Sorry for taking a bit longer than anticipated but I'm trying to maintain my health while writing. Even so, I hope you all like it. Do tell me If I need to be more graphic, if I'm lacking on something, if I'm too graphic... because it's been a moment since I last wrote and this is the first fic in several months. Feedback is always welcome. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's all send a prayer to Alcina Dimitrescu for being such a badass.
Shoutout to @bravewithacapitalb for being my beta reader and also shoutout to @p2pecleanerwitheyes for reading it ❤️
Chp 1 Chp 3
Word count: 10K
Betrayal is but one step towards revenge
Sleep eluded her. Liying on her soft mattress, pillows filled with goose and swan feathers that cradled her head as onyx curls sprawled over the white covers, her body covered by the smoothest of duvets, gold embroidered lilies and silver seams under her palms, her whole frame basking in the comfort and warmth they brought, Alcina found herself unable to rest. At first she had believed it to be caused by Rose’s presence, her motherly instincts refusing to let her steer her eyes from the little thing in case anything happened, but as the clock ticked on the mantlepiece, the handles held by two cherubic angels made out of solid gold, Alcina began to ponder if she was only to convince herself that her baby was the reason and not what had brought her there in the first place. She wouldn’t consider herself a fearful person, but she had to admit that it unnerved her to feel so lost, without a clear path ahead, her usually calm life now bursting into a million tiny pieces that she couldn’t catch, the wind blowing them away from her grasp.
The flames were slowly fading, only embers burning amongst the coal, the heat that floated against the marble walls, golden embellishments in every panel that matched each door and window in her castle, fading through the cracks drop by drop, like a constant flow of water that scurried through the rocks, trying to become a waterfall but always failing, trying to be perfect but never being good enough. The soft light that had bathed her chambers only hours before had made way for a darkness that made her skin crawl and the hairs in the back of her neck stand. It was reaching such a point that even the sounds that she would usually ignore, now booming against stone, the shadows that danced and crawled around her bed horrid creatures that only seemed to live in the corners of her eyes, running away like cowards every time she turned to look at them. Only air would be standing there, nearly cold when she reached out to touch what she was sure had been there.
They could have been real, Alcina realised, shadows that had slid into her home by the hands of that woman. That fake mother who had promised her the heavens and had only given her the seven circles of Hell. Her heart began to race at the thought of spies in her home, of creatures beyond her control breathing the same air her precious Rose breathed, trying to crawl into bed with her with their bony, dead hands, claws ripping her bedsheets to shreds silently with each. For an instant, as her eyes became unfocused and her breath came in rapid huffs, she could have sworn Miranda’s voice was suddenly whispering in her ear words that froze the blood in her veins. She knew, she was aware of what Alcina had done, and the warning was clear: this was only the beginning. The feeling of her sharp, golden claws scratching her face and neck just to hurt her, to spite her, had her trembling under the covers. Alcina had never said no to her before; why would the blond think that she would now?
Alcina shot up, gasping for air as he heart threatened to burst out of her chest, eyes darting left and right as if Miranda would dare stand before her in her own home, staring back at the vampire that sat on her bed with tears threatening to fall from her bloodshot eyes, curls frizzy around her pale face. No one was there. Rose lay in her crib, oblivious to everything, her tiny feet battling the cotton bedsheets even while she was deep in her slumber, quiet gurgles and sighs reaching Alcina’s ears, vanishing Miranda’s voice from her head. It had felt so real, so true that even her pale flesh stung as if a wound had indeed been inflicted on her flesh, but when Alcina’s fingers ran over her neck and jaw slowly, almost expecting the pads of her fingers to come back tainted by her blood, they found nothing. There was a sense inside her chest that she had bitten more than she could chew, but there was no way she could back down now. Miranda would not get Rose, not even if she tried to rip her from her cold, dead arms, no matter how much she thought she could frighten her.
Slowly, she tried to steady her breath, running a hand through her messy curls, her senses picking up on the cold sweat that ran down her back. Had she been asleep through all this or had she been wide awake? She couldn’t be sure. Everything felt fuzzy in her head and yet so real, so vivid. Alcina hated feeling like this, so utterly useless and terrified for her daughters and herself, counting the hours until Karl came and she could share the consequences of her actions with her brother. For as much as she thought him a pain in her perfect behind, Karl despised Miranda far more than he despised her, so she had that on her side; aside from the fact that he would never truly want her dead. As children, they had been through so much together, nobility cruel to the extreme at times, but as they grew, life gave them different paths to walk, their conversations scarce until neither of them knew if the other was alive. Alcina didn’t hate him, not truly; he was the only other sane person in this damned place. Donna was far too delicate to serve her as a pillar to rest on, and Moreau… well, she wouldn’t want to be within ten feet of him or anything he had touched.
Reuniting with Karl had been without warning after decades of his face fading in her mind, nestled under Miranda’s wings like a lost child, but her little brother never blamed her and never forgave the blond for bringing him into this mess. Freedom had been such a foreign concept back in the day, rules and expectations grilled into them, but now it was an impossible feast, though he would never stop craving it and in a way his perseverance and his insistence on behaving like a prick brought a wave of familiarity to her shaken bones. Once he was here with her, Alcina would no longer feel alone in this whole situation. She didn’t know the details, his refusal to talk about what had happened was fulminant and devastating, but there had to be a good reason for him to have become so bitter and hateful. And yet, even in his anger at everyone and everything, Alcina was still held in relatively high regard as his own real family. The only one who could actually keep up with him. He’d understand. She was sure he’d understand.
She wished she didn’t need him, that she could be firm on her own two feet, but going against Miranda wasn’t something one did lightly, and Alcina had not only done it that way but had also defied direct orders and had incarcerated Ethan Winters. If she had to blow up her faith, she might as well do it right. Or blindfolded, without brakes and going downhill. That felt far more accurate. Her skin felt clammy, sticking to the fitted sheet she was sitting on, her nightgown clinging to her body like a second skin, the lace that cupped her breasts brushing her nipples abrasively. It disgusted her. Pushing the duvet off to the side, the feathers inside it ruffling as it flew to the opposite edge of the bed, settling quietly once the silver seams lay inches from the ground, Alcina stood, surprised her legs could hold her weight without trembling. For how tall she was, she felt quite small right now, like a speck of dirt that had been floating around Miranda for an eternity, unable to pull away, imprisoned in her own life. It hurt to be lied, and used, but it hurt far more that Alcina had allowed her to do so.
The soft rug beneath her feet was a comfort, warmth spreading through her legs, but it didn’t make the sweat on her skin any less distasteful and with careful movements, she made her way to her pristine white wardrobe in search of a clean gown and undergarments, Rose not moving an inch as she watched from the corner of her eyes. Getting the girls had been the most wonderful thing in her life, tiny and so desperate for love, their mutation uncontrolled and unpredictable, but she hadn’t cared. They were hers, and she had fallen in love with them the moment she had nestled them against her chest that warm summer night ninety years ago. She had learnt and figured out motherhood all on her own, crying when her girls wouldn’t settle, smiling and laughing when they took their first steps, frustrated beyond believe when she had to homeschool them, the children in the village terrified of them, their pain and suffering at not being able to live a normal life eating Alcina alive but she had persevered, despite the challenges and with only Donna and Karl as her pillars of support.
Donna, even in her delicate state, loved having the girls at her mansion when spring began to float in the air, her well-loved plants blooming under the warm sun, spiralling around fences and stone walls as if they were going to swallow her home whole. Bela had taken a liking to the gentle woman, while Daniela and Cassandra had preferred the dolls, Angie the opposite of Donna and a much more fun companion for the more erratic of her girls. She didn’t mind, though she had made a rule to avoid curse words until they were old enough, worried that their manners would be spoiled if they learnt to be rude before being ladylike.
For man-eating girls, Alcina thought of them as very well-poised girls. Her sweet Bela was perhaps the most similar to Donna, cunning and quiet, observant. She had a patience that not even Alcina could master, her golden eyes and hair the shade of chamomile, making it easy for people to trust her. She was perhaps the most vicious when she struck only because she had been planning the way she was going to slaughter them all the time it had taken for people to warm up to her. She was perhaps the closest to a perfect killer.
Cassandra was visceral, loud and unapologetic, brutal in her strikes and completely unremorseful. She chose, she struck and she killed. She might be the closest to Karl out of all her daughters, and it showed when she came to dinner covered in blood, stinking of sweat and death. She was also the most vengeful and the one who would never forgive nor forget, and carried that with her until she was finally able to bring her sickle upon their necks. It didn’t make her bitter like Alcina’s brother, but it did make her distrust Miranda. As much as she was a vicious killer, she was an incredibly intelligent girl, and Alcina had always believed her to be able to read people and see through their facades, lies plain as milk in her eyes. Her eyes might be golden, but her instincts were as dark as her onyx hair, and extremely accurate.
Her Daniela was the youngest and, to a certain extent, the most childish of them all, impulsive and destructive when things didn’t go her way. She was, without question, the most similar to Alcina, or at least to the traits that Alcina had tried to fight ever since she had been young, but also the one who favoured Angie as well. The fact that she hated those parts of herself didn’t mean that she hated them in her daughter. They made her curious, avid for knowledge as much as she craved attention and any sort of movement, a young thing that just couldn’t stay still. Alcina had always found it endearing to see her curled up in the library with her nose in whatever book the Duke had been kind enough to bring her, but in all her impulsiveness, she was a messy killer. She struck whenever she pleased and for the smallest of reasons, and when she did, she didn’t kill right away; she basked in their suffering for as long as she could before ending them. Alcina didn’t quite like that but understood that, at times, torture was a pleasing game to play.
All her daughters had a bit of Alcina in them as well as a bit of the other person they had shared their childhood with, from Donna’s calm and observant personality to Karl’s carefree nature, but at the end of the day they only called her mother and that swelled her chest with pride.
Closing the wardrobe doors, a light blue gown lay in her arms, its silk smooth and slightly cold to the touch, lace only visible on the hem of its long skirt. She usually didn’t wear it when the weather was as cold as tonight, but if it was warm enough for her Rose, it was warm enough for her. Unlocking her bedroom door, Alcina couldn’t help but think that she should have known something was amiss with Miranda when Cassandra kept on refusing to be in her presence, no matter what. She had always heard that drunks and children always spoke the truth, and her middle daughter was quite blunt whenever she talked.
The corridor was chilly but not as cold as it could be, goosebumps raising on her arms as she bent her towering form to step outside her chambers, bare feet missing the hardwood floors that cradled heat when they began to walk over marble towards the Hall of Ablutions. She favoured comfort over practicality tonight and the space that that the pool provided was preferable to the narrow room where her bath stood, too big to fit sideways, and the walls too close together for her to move with the freedom she required. In truth, she could not recall when she had last used it in favour of the other room.
The door was never locked, as no one ever came here except for herself. Pushing the simple wooden doors, she was welcomed by the usual alabaster walls and floors, golden embellishments in the shape of flowers and leaves shining against the trembling candles, every wall decorated to the brim, though they didn’t make the room feel saturated or baroque to the extreme. They seemed to suit the aura of the castle, centuries written in each room with invisible ink that seeped through cracked corners and faded golden trims. Thick blood red curtains hid the fake windows away, four in total that made the room seem bigger, drawers, sinks and vanities placed in the gaps where glass should be, letting silvery beams bathe the room, as if the blizzard lay asleep between the mountain peaks. In the middle, a pool was carved into the ground, three small stairs allowing Alcina to step into it, but of course, that wasn’t the most outstanding asset in this room; that title belonged to the four statues that stood on the edge of the pool.
Alcina bent her body to fit under the threshold, her movements automatic inside the room as she placed her clothes on top of the closet drawer before heading to the keys that turned the faucets on. The cold water was turned twice while the hot water was turned four times, streams of water cascading from the inner sides of the pool, steam already building in the air. Everything was going well, calm, rehearsed motions making her practically dance around the room until a sharp noise smashed against one of the corridor windows and Alcina froze for an instant before rushing outside, stumbling on her feet while her heart hammered against her ribs.
Eyes darting left and right, Alcina had her claws halfway out when she realised that there was no one there, only darkness creeping through the curtains and snow piling on the windowsills. Attack first, ask questions later. That was her plan at the moment, and even though she was clearly alone, she approached the windows with careful steps, examining the glass with the attention a clockmaker puts into his designs, finding that there was nothing out of place, not a crack in sight. It must have been a branch, she thought, the wind strong enough to carry it through the air, and it had somehow accidentally collided with the exterior, but the feeling of worry didn’t cease.
Her eyes darted towards her bedroom, door ajar and light creeping into the hallway, the image of her little Rose’s crib empty plaguing her mind. She would just look, make sure she was fine. It was easier to lie to herself that it was only her motherly instincts making her check on her baby, but in the back of her mind, she needed to know that Miranda had not infiltrated inside her rooms and snatched her away into the night. Would she have to live with this fear from now on? It was raw and consuming, and it made her feel like she was on edge at all times.
Alcina wasn’t like this; she was collected, level-headed; yes, she had a horrible temper, but she couldn’t help how deeply she felt, her protective nature as violent as Cassandra’s vicious strikes. Peeking her head through the gap between the door and the threshold, a stray curl falling over her cheek, she saw her sweetling sleeping away, one of Alcina’s gloves clutched into her chubby, little hands. When had she grabbed that? In surprise, she chuckled, walking over to her to smooth her sunbeam curls as gently as she could. It didn’t matter how she had got it, it was hers now. She had dozens of gloves in every shade and material, losing one seemed completely unimportant.
The water kept flowing in the other room, filling up the pool inch by inch, but the scare still clung to Alcina’s skin like shackles that weighted her down to her hands and knees, and she couldn’t bring herself to leave Rose by herself. Thinking back to when the girls had been little, she recalled bathing with them, playing in the water as she battled between washing Bela’s hair while grabbing Daniela before she could escape and slide out the door, Cassandra swimming around her imitating Moreau with her hands flapping and splashing bubbles onto Alcina’s hair. They were fond memories that made her smile until her face ached, ones that she cherished deeply, and as she looked at her baby tenderly, features softening to the point that even the wrinkles around her eyes seemed to vanish, she whispered to herself that she wanted to have memories like that about her little Rose, no imminent danger or terrors hanging above her head. But at the moment that wish seemed to be so far away from her grasp, and she couldn’t take any chances. With her mind all made up, she grabbed the sides of the crib and began to walk out of her chambers in careful and calculated steps.
Manoeuvring out into the hallway wasn’t as easy as she had expected, her legs squatted to get Rose out first while using her elbows and shoulders to steady herself, her feet flat on the ground to give her enough surface not to fall. With a couple of huffs and a groan when her biceps hit the coat of arms on the front of her door, she managed to stand to her full height in the corridor, catching her breath a little before doing everything all over again to get her inside the Hall of Ablutions. She wouldn’t miss not having to do this when Rose began to walk.
As the door to her chambers slowly shut, hinges whining ever so slightly, the flames inside the fireplace rushed to reflect their amber tones over the corridor floor, the white marble picking up all those warm colours until the ground looked like a sea of fire that she could walk on. In those few seconds when the hallway was filled with waves of red and orange, Alcina’s eyes caught a glimpse of something shining underneath one of the curtains, exactly the one in front of her doors. Her brow furrowed in confusion, sure that nothing had been there when she had checked the windows only a few minutes before, and as much as she wanted to ignore it, she didn’t have the luxury of doing so. Anything out of the ordinary could be a sign that Miranda was onto them or that danger was fast approaching her and her daughters.
Much to her dismay, she had to investigate, and although usually she would have simply placed Rose on the floor next to her and checked the curtains nonchalantly, expecting to find perhaps a shard of glass or something a stupid maid had dropped, she had to go about it quite seriously now. Given the situation, she preferred to keep her baby as far away as possible and so as gently as she could, though awkwardly, given her stature, she placed the crib inside the Hall of Ablutions, near the door for the time being, keeping it ajar so that enough light could shine into the corridor. Most of the candles that had been lit earlier in the afternoon lay now in pools of melted white wax that overflowed the golden holders where they sat, wicks burnt to black ashes that stained their once pristine colours in shapes that only a witch could interpret.
Slowly, Alcina made her move. Her steps were careful as she approached the thick curtains, snow piling against the windows like spectators ready for a show, though in this case, no one knew what the outcome of this performance would be. The glint remained there, unmoving, perhaps metallic in the way it shone against the warm light, Alcina’s eyes narrowing suspiciously as the nails on her left hand began to elongate. Alcina could be loud, buoyant, and she had a tendency of making her victims well aware that they were being chased, but she could also be delivery quiet, her movements a silent warning that at any moment she would strike. Like a predator stalking its pray but the instant her right hand shot to lift the curtains, she was stunned on the spot, immobile at the shock of what was resting at her feet.
A gun. A small handgun that had been patched up with tape around the handle and had spots of dried blood on the muzzle. No one in her castle used this sort of items, not even for hunting, and although it obviously do no harm like this, just lying on the floor, in the hands of the wrong person or of someone desperate enough to intrude in her home, it could be quite devasting, if not deadly to some of the more human members of Alcina’s household. Kneeling over the ground, her nails retracted now that she was certain there was no imminent danger, she picked it up, feeling its heavy weight and the cold metal against her skin, a certain roughness lingering around its edges.
Winters had definitely come prepared, she thought, but a weapon like this would cause no true harm to her or her daughters, a fact that everyone in the village was well aware of. None of the lords could be hurt with simple bullets like this, not were there enough for maybe a single round, and if his intention was to kill, he was not on the right track. It left her confused, wondering why he thought he could just wander in here with this and believe he would leave unharmed and with her head as a trophy. No sane person would ever dare to send someone to her castle with so much as bandages and this sorry excuse for a gun. No one.
The more she looked at the weapon, the more bizarre everything became, the feeling that there was something wrong about this whole thing growing exponentially. First, Rosemary appeared out of thin air, then Ethan popped out of the blue to search for her, guided by an old woman in the village who knew that Alcina had the baby, and then there was that female scream that she knew she had heard but had found no clues as to who had done it or why.
And of course, there was Miranda at the top of the pyramid, watching, playing the game.
If she was the one behind all this, this plan of hers had to be a most masterful creation, perfect in execution and without a single flaw but in life, as in death, perfection was unattainable, unreachable even if you spent all eternity chasing it. In Alcina’s head, there were two very clear things: Miranda wanted Rose, and since Winters had no intention of handing his child to anyone, he had to be eliminated. But why doom the village to achieve this? It was unnecessary, the slaughter of innocents that even Alcina saw as disproportionate. Lycans were vicious creatures without thought or consciousness, and they killed, ripped and feasted on whoever they found, the only exception being the four Lords and Miranda and a village as devout as this one didn’t deserve to be treated like this. It wasn’t that Alcina cared for these people, she couldn’t care less if they lived or died, but one morning they had woken up to work on the fields, get the children to school, make plans for when spring came like it was just another day and by nightfall only a few people were lucky enough to survive, shielded inside broken down homes or caves, waiting to be the next.
She had witnessed first-hand what those abominations were doing to the villagers, and she couldn’t grasp how, if what Winters had said was true, some random old woman could survive that, when someone her age would most definitely not have the strength or stamina to fight them off for long enough to somehow talk to him and simply walk away. It just didn’t seem possible. And yet that man had fought his way through the slaughterhouse with this gun, not without injury, of course, but he had talked back and stood on his own two feet and had kept breathing when others in his situation would have succumbed to death in an instant. How did he manage to do that? It seemed that instead of getting information, all Alcina was getting were even more questions.
In the darkness of the corridor, she couldn’t quite examine the gun, the pads of her fingers brushing bumps and ridges unconsciously, but one thing she could do was put the safety on, the click it made reassuring her already racing mind ever so slightly before she returned to her little Rose, the babe sucking on one of the leather fingers of her glove as if nothing was happening, still deep in slumber. Alcina preferred much refined weapons such as swords or bows, but she was no stranger to guns and although no accidents should occur now that the safety was on, she preferred to empty it, releasing the magazine so that the bullets would slide down into her hand. There might be four or five bullets left inside it and after lifting the slide release and racking it back, she could see that the weapon had not been loaded before Ethan had burst into her castle.
What a foolish man, she thought, her iron grip turning the bullets and the magazine they rested into dust and metal scraps over her palm. The sound of them cracking and breaking was a sweet melody of safety that gathered in her ears, her hand releasing the pieces after a moment and letting them fall to the ground like they were nothing, and in truth, they were. Without this, there was no possibility of harm being done, even if he escaped his prison, not that he would be able to, of that Alcina was sure.
With practised ease, she entered the room, the door clicking shut behind the vampire as soon as her tall frame rose to her full height to stretch her back, leaving the gun on top of the nearest cupboard in order to pick up Rose and move her to the opposite side of the room, right underneath a bronze plaque where a riddle lay engraved. It came to stand that manoeuvring around four statues with a crib wasn’t an easy task, much less when her baby was sleeping away as if there was no tomorrow, but with careful movements and after bumping her elbow once or twice on the horse’s derriere, she managed to get to the appointed place.
The statues were perhaps the most over-the-top thing she had in her whole castle, but in her opinion, they represented well the hierarchy of her home, and they were a reminder of where she stood in the pyramid. It could almost feel like a parallel between the village and the way the Four Lords lived and coexisted, each with their own space to rule and their rightful position to stand on. “The poor” were the villagers, those souls that could do nothing without asking those above them for permission, in most cases, Alcina herself or Miranda when she graced those mortals with her presence. From the Lords, Moreau was the one who suited the role the best, always expectant, always following orders as if that would grant him the appreciation or the recognition, he thought he deserved.
“The nobleman” was a shared position. It represented the head of the village in a way, the one that people had to answer to and follow, and Alcina seemed to be the one in charge of maintaining that stability through her vineyards and the jobs she had to oversee. One would think Miranda should have this role, but the woman hardly ever showed any interest in the villagers unless it was to experiment on them or seek something out of their labour and faith, barely showing herself through the now destroyed streets, and yet they prayed to the blond and feared Alcina, who fed them and clothed them with the wages she paid. Heisenberg was the one who showed the most skills to fit the role, never following commands unless he had no other choice, self-centred at times, and always hovering above the rest of them as if he had the right to be at the very top. It made sense that Alcina and he should share this role both as siblings and as the only try nobles in the village.
“The women” were a different story. There was a statue dressed in more humble clothes, covered, making it seem as if she was beneath the other statue, and that was the reason why it represented the hierarchy inside her castle so well. That woman was her servant, the girls that worked for her, and that could only entertain Alcina and her daughters, unaware of what the men did. Of course, that statue suited Donna, sad in her features and calm in her presence, always carrying grief wherever she went, while also not really caring for childish squabbles that Moreau and Heisenberg usually started during meetings. She looked up at the statue of the well-dressed woman, rich in details and power, the cup her stone hand held filled with what used to be wine.
That statue was Alcina, and she shared it with no one else but herself. It might seem narcissistic, but anyone who knew Alcina would be stupid to think that she wasn’t, to a certain extent, exactly that, and she had no problem with being labelled as such. She was the one her servants looked up to, the one they feared; and of course they one they answered to. It was obvious she should be granted this privileged position, away from the men, but there was a detail in the riddle, and it was that Alcina did not think any less of Donna, and matched her by staring back, guidance in her hand and confidence in her eyes. The younger girl often sought out advice from her, comfort when her pain became too much to bear and much to her own surprise, Alcina had accommodated her as if she were a true sister. She didn’t care for Moreau and had a rocky relationship with Karl, but she would not mind lowering herself to Donna’s level if she needed to.
That was the way it had to be, forever static, chiselled in stone for all eternity, no Miranda above them all, no chains or commands disrupting this square of existence. It had kept Alcina on her toes all these years, remembering where she stood and why, but today of all days, it gave her a sense of connection, that she knew she could count on Donna and Karl; they would be there while Moreau, last in the chain of command, could very easily turn away and seek Miranda himself. She couldn’t trust him. Her hand hovered over the cold stone of herself for a moment, remembering how she used to look, how she used to be, so human that she had grown weak and desperate, but there had been a sparkle in her eyes that had left many decades ago. She couldn’t say she missed being like her statue, but there was something so hauntingly beautiful about not being eternal that lingered in her chest. There was an appreciation for how things withered and died only to be reborn through new beings, blooming and living in a constant circle, but she had to admit that she very much liked being out of that circle.
Death had never been a particular topic she wanted to participate in, and even less, since becoming a mother.
The cooing that came from the crib broke Alcina from her trance, the woman turning to check on Rose. There was a small smile on the baby’s lips, her hands opening and closing ever so slightly, almost as if she was dreaming, quiet noises escaping from the little thing. It was an endearing sight and one that Alcina could cradle to her chest in the solitude of this room, no one there to disturb the moment. The way Rose moved with Alcina’s glove still in her hand had her wondering what her sweetling was dreaming about, if she was held against her mother’s chest or Alcina’s, if it was her presence that had the baby sleeping so peacefully.
She was certain that she didn’t have a definite place in Roses’ mind and heart yet, but she chose to lie to herself and believe that her baby was this calm and happy because of her, the back of her fingers caressing the soft skin of the baby’s cheek. It was odd to have a human child in her home, used to as she was to the way her daughters had been mutations since they had been babies, but she liked how homely it felt to have her and how steady she seemed to be when Rose was around. She didn’t care much for the specifics, but she did enjoy the confidence and the way every little noise washed over her like a balm, soothing her worries and fears.
If it hadn’t been for the sudden sound of water shooting from one of the faucets, Alcina could have spent hours just staring at Rose, the steam that had gathered in the room making her onyx curls even frizzier, little ringlets forming around her forehead and neck. Peeling herself away was a herculean task, but she managed to walk away from Rose and over to the faucets, turning them off so the pool wouldn’t overflow, crystal clear waters reaching the middle of the second stair. From inside one of the sink cabinets, she pulled a bottle of bathing salts and a wooden case with different types of oils, sprinkling a decent amount of the rose-scented salts while also pouring nearly the whole bottle of the amber oil and the blood orange one, the aromas dancing in the air in unison in perfect harmony.
The other bottles left in the box had labels with her daughter’s names, most of them still full. Bela favoured deeper tones like cedar and pine wood, while Daniela had a sweeter taste, close to fruity tones like peaches or apples. Cassandra, of course, had the most manly scents, if one could assume they are manly, like oak wood and a hint of tobacco that lingered in her clothes no matter how much they were washed, courtesy of Karl. They used to smell like blood oranges when they had been little, one of the reasons why Alcina kept using that oil after decades of her girls moving on from that scent. She liked to feel like some things would always stay with her.
On her own and with the door locked, no one would dare disturb her, the sweet smells mixing with the steam in perfect invisible ringlets that clung to the walls and curtains, Alcina’s hands working slowly on her nightgown. The fabric slid over her pale body without effort, flowing between her fingers until she let go of it, the dress crumpling on the ground like it was nothing. As the satin slid over her flesh, it exposed her perfect frame to the warm candlelight that filled the room, her taunt stomach and full breasts exposed to the air. There were small and thin marks on her lower abdomen and hips, as well as on the upper part of her chest, signs that her skin had stretched faster than it had been able to deal with, healing in ways that made it seem as if Alcina was a porcelain doll with cracks.
When her body had first adjusted to the cadou, she had admired them immensely, almost as if they were proof that Miranda had succeeded in her experiments. Looking at them now, she felt nothing. They were just there; they would always be there, but they meant nothing to Miranda. Alcina in general didn’t mean a thing to Miranda, otherwise why would she have relegated her to the back? Why did she turn Donna, Moreau and her own brother when she had been told she had been perfect? Perfect for what, she wondered bitterly, to just look pretty in pictures while everyone else came before her?
Why had she even bothered to experiment on them when in the end she threw them all away like used tissues? Running her hands over the practically invisible marks around her collarbones, Alcina began to feel the hatred that her brother had often spoken of. It was raw, painful and hot, like a burning rage that turned her eyes a bright golden as her nails sharpened enough to slice through her own skin. The small wounds remained on her body for an instant before they faded, leaving behind only stray droplets of rich and dark blood that scorched her skin as much as the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks.
A betrayal of this calibre should make her feel this way, and yet the shame that accompanied it all at believing her words that they were a family, that for once she would be the first to be chosen, sliced through her as sharp as her own daughter’s sickles. Never again would she be under anyone’s command, following anyone’s orders like a stupid child, being scolded as if she were a toddler for failing to comply. She wasn’t Miranda’s bitch and never again would she trust anything that woman said or did. A mother doesn’t kill another’s baby as coldly as she had demanded it after talking so painfully about her own.
Alcina would set the world on fire and stand on its ashes for her girls. She’d kill and be killed to protect them, but never, not in a million years, would she have allowed Rose to be slaughtered, not even if she was a threat to her own babies. What harm could Rose cause? None, but Miranda had chosen her specifically for her plans, and there had to be a reason why. Karl might have answers to those questions, but until dawn came, she was left with her own rushing mind. God, she needed a drink.
It was slightly unorthodox, but Alcina had wine in almost every room she spent a decent amount of time in, hidden so the girls wouldn’t get their greedy hands on every bottle they could find, not that Alcina allowed them to drink aside from mealtimes. Making her way to her statue, she pushed the stone glass down until a soft click reached her ears, the bottom of her skirt popping open ever so slightly. Alcina squatted on the ground with her ass nearly hitting the back of her feet and the ground, hands working smoothly to open the compartment, a sweet cloud of smoked oak wood tones brushing her skin as a bottle of Sanguis Virginis came to view, a crimson glass with silver embellishments right beside it.
Her own perfected recipe that every Michelin-starred restaurant in Europe practically fought for. Expensive, deep and rich, with its initial bitter flavours that exploded into a sea of smooth berry tones and that metallic aroma that not only accompanied the wine but enhanced it, like a catalyst for every undertone, every wave of fruit and alcohol. Yes, she had to consume blood in order to control her healing abilities but nowhere did it say that it had to be in such a disorderly and most positively medieval manner when she had this splendid drink that suited her tastes and calmed her nervous self the moment her eyes locked onto the dark red liquid as it was poured into the cup, cherry lips pursing around the rim as her mouth filled with it, frame standing tall, eyes fluttering close.
Just exactly what she needed.
It gathered on her taste buds and went down her throat with ease; her teeth tainted a light shade of pink as she sighed. Now she was ready for her bath. Her empty hand held onto the lace waistband of her knickers, pushing them over her hips until they slid down her legs on their own, pooling at her feet in a mass of black lace and satin. Fully naked, skin glowing against the warm light, she took slow steps towards the stairs, stepping carefully over the marble floors until her toes dipped into the hot water, the level rising with each step she took until the edge of the pool reached around her knees.
It felt splendid, a soothing balm on her worn-out body as she kneeled gracefully, the steam following the shape of her ass and hips inch by inch as she submerged her body around droplets of oil and dissolving salts. She felt weightless, or as weightless as one her size could feel when not fully underwater, arms resting on the edge of the pool with her glass still held in her hand, water adjusting around her body until bubbles gathered on the top of her breasts, legs stretched, fingers toying with the surface tension of the water lazily, Alcina’s head lulling back with closed eyes.
She didn’t know how long she stayed like that, simply feeling the hot water take away the pain in her lower back and the dull aches in her joints and muscles, her once perfect curls now frizzy and forming ringlets that bounced around her face with each breath she took. Even with her eyes closed, she took another sip from her wine, savouring it slowly until the dark liquid settled on her stomach, the sensation of her energy settling ever so slightly as the blood spread evenly throughout her body, but for some reason, it didn’t have the same effect as it usually did. It seemed dull compared to when she had drunk from Winters.
With him, she had been euphoric, nearly high on every protein and enzyme that swam through her veins, affected by him, like a sugar rush on a little kid. It was quite strange, but to be honest, Alcina didn’t feel like questioning this superfluous fact when there were other pressing matters that occupied her mind. Her wine was still delicious, and the maid’s blood still did its job, just not as well as it had done other times, and that could partially be due to the fact that she was already full of blood and tired. Either way, she let that speck of a thought fade along with the steam that floated around.
The moment was nearly perfect, quiet and soothing, but it felt like there was something slightly out of place that she couldn’t quite pinpoint, a misplaced piece of a puzzle lying somewhere in this room. The feeling only lingered for a moment or two, Alcina’s brow furrowed ever so slightly, before Rose made a little gurgling sound and everything finally felt exactly as it should be. Every ounce of her body visibly relaxed at the sound, her mind registering that she was safe, smiling that sly but sweet smile of hers while her eyes remained shut and her body slid down a bit further under water. Every muscle released its tensions into the currents, knots loosening on her shoulders as invisible fingers made of steam kneaded her flesh in perfect circles.
Midnight had long passed, and dawn would soon peak through the mountains, releasing its warmth if the blizzard allowed it to. And with each passing second, the thought that, if Miranda had not yet come to her castle to reprimand her (or worse), the blonde probably wouldn’t arrive in the few hours that night still gifted Alcina to collect herself. That woman could be impulsive, yes, but she was well known for being calculating, slow in her plans, measuring mistakes and steps to ensure they came to fruition, and there was something in the air, may it be the shift in energy around her or the feeling of a quiet voice whispering in Alcina’s ear, that told her that Miranda knew what had occurred, or suspected that her orders had not been delivered as instructed. If the latter was the case, Alcina would have to think of a good way of covering up the fact that Rose was alive and asleep beside her, her father knocked out in the dungeons.
Karl would aid her in that. He had always been more versed in plan-making, or scheme-making in this case, and with the knowledge that he had never been particularly fond of Miranda and had voiced it many times, it would be quite easy to add steps to the plan Alcina knew he had somewhere in that factory of his. In her family, revenge was the norm when someone betrayed them and although Alcina had never been against her powers, nor the experiments Miranda had conducted on her, a big mistake from her part, Karl had considered his turning to be a point of no return, and an anger like his was as dangerous as Alcina’s claws. But for now, the castle was calm, her daughters were all sleeping or roaming the halls looking for a playmate, and snow had her home safely isolated, so even if Miranda tried to get in, the blizzard would stop her.
Not that it had stopped Ethan.
That man was odd, she thought. He had survived the lycans that were slaughtering the village with minor injuries and bruises and had not lost a limb in this snowstorm, pushing through pain that would have killed anyone else. No soul could make it past those beasts without welcoming the bittersweet touch of death, and yet here he was. She knew of stories that Miranda had confided in Moreau, the slimy monster, talking about unimaginable horrors Winters had survived back in America, but how much of what he had told them was truth and how much was pretend for the sake of the story?
If that man had indeed walked amongst perturbed beings and had even lost limbs in his pursuit to save his deceased wife, he had to be an extraordinary being capable of things that only Alcina had experienced after being injected with the Cadou. And after tasting him and comparing it to her best blood wine, she could tell there was definitely something strange about him, and Alcina had every intention of finding out exactly what made him so special. Find out if he was made out of something other than bone and flesh, because Miranda feared no one, entitled as she was, but Ethan Winters had made a flicker of fear pass through her eyes, and Alcina wasn’t going to waste this chance and would use this man to end her, whether he liked it or not. It’s not like he had any other choice when she had his daughter under her wing and could very well take her away from him.
Relaxing with each passing second, the existence of that man in her home seemed more of curiosity than the danger that had clung to her being not that long ago, every worry, every fear washed away by perfumes and bubbles, the steam in the room giving her skin a healthy glow that had her cheeks blushing. It made her look almost human again under the flickering candlelight. Picking up the glass and bringing it to her lips, she savoured the wine in her mouth for an instant before drinking, sighing contentedly as her fingers left it over the marble floor, hands moving to rest strategically on the edge of the pool so that she could lower her whole body into the water, pushing herself away gently.
Floating on the surface, curls flowing around her face as legs and arms swayed slowly to keep herself in the centre of the pool, Alcina simply let herself be. Exist in the moment. If only she could stay like this forever, no problems awaiting her, no orders or summons, just her family living a normal life without the feeling of a rope scratching her neck, ready to hang her the moment she stepped out of line. How had it taken her this long to see just how messed up Miranda was? Alcina had been witness to atrocities in all these years and had remained quiet because they hadn’t affected her, dimming the people the blonde had killed mercilessly, useless, unfit to live under Mother Miranda’s rule.
And yet, for some reason, this time it had felt like a direct attack, almost as if the woman had been mocking her and her desire to have a family. Alcina’s daughters had been failed experiments that Miranda had pushed away and had gifted her with fake smiles and promises that they would all be a bigger, happier family if she kept the three babies, but she had never cared. If Alcina had gone mad and slaughtered the little things in a bath of blood and screams, she was certain the woman would not have uttered a single word; how could she when she would have been glad to land the first blow on Rose’s tiny body? She had always been a murderer hiding in plain sight, talking about the future and a master plan that would fix everything while she left them behind, abandoned, and the only thing that angered Alcina beyond belief was just how long it had taken her to see her for who she truly was.
Today had been an eye-opener, as Karl would call it, and would mark a before and after in their lives, that was for certain. They were treading down a path filled with dangerous and unknown things that awaited her with sharp claws and teeth, ready to kill, ready to push back and break her, but for once, Alcina had to do what was right and not what was easy. She didn’t care about the village; she only cared about ensuring her daughters had a good life, and her brother was here to protect them and take care of them, Donna helping them navigate their grief and sorrow so one day they’d understand why she did what she did, because she cared not what happened to her. If she had to die and leave them orphans so they could be free, she’d do it without a second thought, and she’d shed no tears as she did so for she would not wish her children to remember her broken and defeated, but as their loving mother that smiled up at them as she faded into the ether with Miranda’s body clutched between her claws.
If she was meant to leave this earthly plain, she’d take that woman with her.
But for now, she could rest. Float in these perfumed waters until her fingers became wrinkled and her skin blushed through the steam, until dawn broke through the windows if she so desired, hidden away just a little longer. The small currents and waves caressed her body gently, covering her legs with each movement she made, her taunt stomach seeing the rise and fall of the water over its pale skin, small bubbles gathered under her bosom and around her navel, her ample breasts lulled to the sides slightly, standing proudly over the ocean with stiff nipples and relaxed breaths that made them rise and fall.
Translucent hands brushed her cheeks and gathered droplets around her closed eyes, her gingers threading the water like stitches that dressed her in rich fabrics and adorned her flesh with intricate embroideries made of foam and bubbles. They would fade the moment water touched them but new ones would come and take their place, unique in shape and form but Alcina did not care if a million flowers dressed her body or if salt crystalised over her skin, she only cared about the silence that water brought to her, peace in each wave, in every drop that run through her sternum and faded into nothing over her stomach.
In here, roses grew in between her curls and blood oranges held onto her fingers and arms like vines, not with the intention of trapping her but simply to stay close, soft touches of strawberries gathering over her heart, asking for permission to bloom timidly. She’d let them. She’d let them all grow and take a piece of her as she had been made to be prayed to and cherished, all while she ripped herself apart for those fragments of her soul that walked beside her and had been nurtured by her arms and blood. In her tender embrace, nothing bad would ever happen to her family, the tide washing away the dead petals that fell from Alcina’s mind. In this water, time stood still, no past, no future, just her and her baby resting.
Not the same could be said for Ethan Winters. The dungeons were a far cry from the opulence Alcina rested in, damp corners, mold and moss growing through the cracks in the stone walls, chains creaking and screaming in the darkness that engulfed this labyrinth. These hallways were cold, so cold that it made Ethan shiver, the freezing ground stained with dried blood as well as fresh one, almost as uncomfortable as the wooden planks he rested on, each bruise and wound palpitating. The air in this place was stale, filled with the stench of rotten meat and rusty metal, howls banging against the bars and torture contraptions he was certain his in the other cells, not that he would have been able to see anything if he had been able to move.
A young maid had come hours ago and had worked diligently on each scrape as if her life depended on it, though it actually might. Those girls Dimitrescu had called daughters watched with horrific smiles on their faces, waiting for a single mistake to rip the maid apart before his very own eyes, but much to their dismay and much to the girl’s joy, she had done her job and had been allowed to return to her chambers after the last bandage had been secured in place around his wrist. The wrist that Dimitrescu had fed from him and that had seemed to please her by the way her eyes had turned the brightest gold he had ever seen, the way her pupils had dilated, and her lips had left their imprint around his wound, still swam in his head.
Even in his semi-conscious state, he couldn’t get her face out of his mind, not the image of her holding his child like she was the most precious thing on Earth, and it fucking hurt. Mia had been cold, so cold towards him lately and had looked at Rose with a mix of expectation and regret that Ethan could only interpret as her not loving Rose as much as she thought she should, an internal battle happening that he could not be part of. Those looks hadn’t even crossed Dimitrescu’s eyes for an instant; she had held onto his daughter, ready to rip him apart with her bare hands, which she was quite capable of doing, and he both admired and hated how very little fear he held for his own child. She might decapitate him in the morning, but a voice in the back of his head told him she’d never hurt Rose. Still, he preferred not to take any chances and would fight to get her back no matter what; when he recovered, that was, of course.
Those mutant werewolves had really done a number on him, and the nine-foot lady sure as hell hadn’t helped with the way she had thrown him and smacked him against the wall like a ragdoll. He had to thank that old woman for telling him where his kid was, and if he ever left this place, he’d look for her to tell her, if she was still alive. That village really was hell on Earth, full of monsters that wanted to bite his ass and cadavers in every house and corner he had inspected. His shaking hands managed to tap his jacket pockets, feeling the emptiness in his clothes, the sinking feeling that his knife and gun were gone seeping into his bones like ice. Without protection, he was at the lady’s mercy, no chance of survival, no chance of redemption for what he had done in Louisiana. It fucking sucked.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to get into the castle, grab his kid and fucking fly out of this place, but how was he to know that the owner was this tall woman of apricot cheeks and plump lips? He had never seen a woman like her, with a face as regal as hers, cruelty in her hands as her eyes had shone with a fierce protection that had knocked the wind out of him. He was partially aware of having stared without shame, shocked and stunned by her otherworldly beauty, his heart bleeding as Lady Dimitrescu had cradled Rose, whispering to her as if she was her own flesh and blood, the sight as disturbing as much as it had been endearing. That morning, everything had been normal, in his home with his wife, and now he lay on a wooden plank trying to move his body to stand, sweat building in his forehead at the effort.
He could not move, he could not make his body respond. The shackles on his ankles as heavy as lead, his left hand throbbing in pain after losing two of his fucking fingers, the rage and defeat he felt making silent tears roll down his cheeks. Against all odds, he had found his Rose and although he was broken both mentally and physically, he had to keep going; he had to try and protect her for as long as he could. Not from Lady Dimitrescu; in the few instants he had seen her, she had proven to be a mother worth the entire universe. He had to keep her safe but from whoever the tall woman had saved his child from, including Chris and his bunch of fuckass soldiers that had killed his wife.
A scream echoed through the castle’s dungeons, loud and gruesome, making Ethan’s skin crawl in the pitch darkness, a howl matching it from somewhere around the building’s grounds, his hazy mind unable to pinpoint where it came from. The ball was rolling downhill and could not be stopped, no matter what. The last coherent thought he had before he passed out once again from blood loss and exhaustion was that, as much as he tried and fought, until his limbs ripped and his lungs filled with blood, crawling on the snow-covered ground to take Rose out of here, he knew he would never leave this place alive.
On the other side of the village, Karl paced through his office, machines cutting through the air like knives, pictures of them all pinned to his wall, red marker pointing weak spots, connections, questions, a cigar in between his thin lips as his greyish-blue eyes settled on the picture of that bitch he had been forced to call Mother for decades. Finally, his moment had come, his revenge would happen with every creation and weapon he had ever invented, and Alcina would aid him in making sure it all worked out. About fucking time, he thought. His tall ass sister had finally seen Miranda for the bitch she was! A metal scrap shot through the air and embedded itself right in between Miranda’s eyes, dust collecting on the table underneath, smoke gathering around his face as he slumped over a chair in front of his wall of madness. Alcina’s leverage sure would be the missing piece to his masterpiece, of that, he was sure. Thin lips smiled wickedly while still holding onto his cigar, his fingers playing with the sharp edge of his knife, unafraid of drawing even a single drop of blood.
Pairing: None (Alcina Dimitrescu is the protagonist)
Summary: "Monsters didn’t have hair that shone like obsidian, falling in gentle waves around their necks, they didn’t have eyes like rivers of gold with long and thick eyelashes hiding away the rims of blue around her irises. They didn’t have skin like porcelain, perfectly smooth, not a blemish in sight, soft hues of apricot on the apple of her cheeks. Monsters didn’t whisper sweet nothing to a baby from plump, deep red lips as easily as she was doing, soothing cries and fears softly".
Warnings: violence, throwing peoplet walls, blood, vampires, sickles, injuries, drinking blood, mention of violence in different forms... Heisenberg makes an appearence and so do Bela, Daniela and Cassandra (not a warning but important info)
Authors note: I started this back in 2024, but with Requiem out now, I decided on carrying on (I never stopped loving Alcina, no worries). I played the game and tried to use the map of the Castle as accuretly as possible but I had to make adjustments because Alcina's chambers are completely separated and it sucks. Do tell me If I need to be more graphic, if I'm lacking on something, if I'm too graphic... because it's been a moment since I last wrote and this is the first fic in several months. Feedback is always welcome. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's all send a prayer to Alcina Dimitrescu for being such a badass.
Shoutout to @bravewithacapitalb for being my beta reader and also shoutout to @p2pecleanerwitheyes for reading it ❤️
Chp 2 Chp 3
Word count: 11K
In life, as in death, I lay in a bed of roses
The horizon would never be visible. Mountains so tall they seemed to claw at the skies with their sharp rocks and never-ending peaks surrounded every inch of land they could find, streams ceasing to flow when they found their currents stopped by barriers so unfathomable that even water refrained from eroding them, stones as old as the legends that floated in between the dark clouds, hiding the village from the rest of the world, secrets buried under thick coats of pure white snow that froze the ground.
It was a silent warning to everyone in the village, a threat that they were never meant to be found, never meant to be seen, strangers such a rare occurrence that one could almost dare to wonder if this poor souls were being isolated by a cruel God that wished to keep the outside world from tainting their customs. Though there were some who thought that, in truth, the endless mountain chains where there to keep something sealed in. Either way, the jail nature had built would still be there, regardless of whether the village ceased to exit and only her home remained, frozen in time.
Legends would still stream down the slow rivers.
For all the windows her home held, it did not matter from which one she caught a glimpse of the wild outdoors, everywhere her sharp eyes landed upon all she could see were the bars to her prison built by forces beyond her. They might not be made out of iron and rust, but they were just as immobile and far more deadly, the ruthless blizzards taking lives without so much as a glance, keeping them frozen forever, testimonies of all those who had tried to escape, flesh shredded over the sharp rocks until only bones remained for the wild beasts to feast on. A cruel demise, yes, but a necessary one when the valley was bathed in a delicate balance between life and death.
Snow fell hard and fast against the stone walls, thick snowflakes coating the dead ground almost in a practiced manner, following an invisible pattern, hiding pools of infinite blood underneath the pure ice, shattering the pristine cover of fake innocence winter brought upon the castle. To her deep golden eyes that shone a rich amber under the candlelight, the protection these mountains supposedly provided were as much a gift as they were a curse. She was stuck dancing in the same ballrooms, the piano never changing tune, the same violins playing as her dresses brushed the marble floors over and over, forced to live in a world that no longer existed, ghosts haunting the baroque halls while screams bounced of the dungeon walls.
The opulence inside these galleries were distant reminders of the abysmal difference between her life and what was down at the village, what Mother allowed, crude and nearly medieval in comparison and yet she could not bring herself to care. How many times had she wished she could take her girls away from here? Cross the only battered bridge that led to freedom and leave everything behind? To give them a different life? One where they might find safety from the certain death this icy cold brought upon them, windows nailed shut so their delicate little fingers would never experience the sharp grasp of oblivion, accidents impossible as long as she kept them inside. Trapped. Just like she was, even though she had agreed to all this once upon a time. She had been so foolish back then.
Rivulets of thin smoke floated and crashed silently against her window, the cigarette that was perched between her plump lips burning slowly as her lungs filled with the thick waves of nicotine and the bitter taste of the tobacco gathered on her tongue. The corners of the glass laid covered in frost, so thin and delicate she could make out the shape of every single snowflake, following every ridge and every groove that her eyes could find. Her face reflected off the glass in translucent tones, her features softer, younger maybe, the light tricking her own self, painting in soft brushes more of the greyish tones that still lingered around her pupils, the person on the glass more human than reality would ever allow her to be.
The ferocious wind outside bent the old trees and made the broken windows rattle around the abandoned parts of the castle, the merciless cold that seeped from cracks between stones a bitter contrast to the warmth inside her bed chambers, a roaring fire burning steadily inside her marble chimney. It was at moments like this, when everything was quiet and she was left alone with her thoughts that she could feel the decades in her bones. Not even the bitter taste of her cigarette could make her feelings any less dark and heavy, ashes collecting on a metal ashtray that Alcina had placed on the windowsill, the leaves burning fast, unaware that each second she spent looking out the window was bringing it closer to the end.
She had been alive for more than a century, had seen wars and splendour, and yet today of all days, she regretted having agreed to be one of Miranda’s children the most.
It did not matter how long she could live or how many people she could slaughter for the sake of Mother’s experiments because today she cursed her immortality, her bitter selfishness and perhaps childish terror at the prospect of dying she had felt so many years ago, when her blood illness had begun to take away every bit of her as slowly and as merciless as it could muster. Today she had witnessed a side of Miranda that she had never known existed and the rage it had caused had shook the grounds this whole disturbing place stood on, a veil she had never known that had been covering her eyes falling on the blood stained snow where Miranda’s minions had once stood, now only cadavers meeting her furious screams.
The sweet gurgles of a quiet baby broke her trail of thoughts, the tall woman turning her head gently to glance at the beautiful mahogany crib, golden carvings of roses and leaves decorating the wood, the most beautiful little thing sleeping peacefully inside it. Her cherubic cheeks and curls the colour of sun beams were so different to Alcina’s pale features and black waves the shade of deep night, yet the little thing shared details with her so small, so similar one could even venture to say this child was hers by blood. Alcina wasn’t aware of these details, focused as she was on making sure the baby was healthy, happy and unharmed, but her heart was no fool and it knew more than Alcina could ever figure out. It was odd to see this little thing so blissfully unaware of the shift in the hierarchy that her mere presence had caused and even though the weight of her decision lingered heavily on Alcina’s shoulders, the gentle smile that graced her deep red lips at the sight of the baby, her baby, was reason enough for her to not care if that precarious balance Miranda always talked about went to hell.
She had seen it with her own eyes. The way the woman that had dared call herself Mother, who had lied to her about so many things, who had discarded Alcina’s three precious daughters like they had meant nothing while talking painfully about the loss of her own child, had placed this sweet angel on a pedestal. The instructions had been so very clear, and they still rung in Alcina’s ears like a scream: to dismember her and give each part to one and each of the four Lords, Miranda making sure to remind them that she had to keep the most crucial part of the baby like this sweet angel was nothing, the blond woman vanishing in a swarm of screeches and black feathers. Her voice had had no trace of pain or even remorse, just power, so sharp and mighty that it had made Alcina’s hands shake as each word stabbed the vampire like a knife.
No mother, no matter what, could ever inflict such pain on an innocent child, no matter what the purpose was, no matter what experiments that sick woman had in mind, and a woman who had thrown this sweet baby to be slaughtered could not call herself Mother. Not anymore. The rage that still flowed through her poisoned veins threatened to burn her in anger and fury as the images floated before her eyes, the wind that had been clawing at her skin when she had picked the baby up from the altar like a phantom touch on her body, but everything was forgotten in an instant when those big greyish eyes opened up slowly in search of her. Through her long eyelashes the sweetling began to desperately search for the woman that had held her in her warm embrace, keeping her from the biting cold, and even though Alcina had not yet moved from her spot by the window the baby was quick to find her, staring at her with curiosity and not an ounce of fear before her mouth crept into a toothless smile.
It melted her anger like butter over a fire, the feeling of warmth that spread all over her and settled on her molten gold eyes making the tall woman lift herself from her seat and head over to her baby, the crib barely two strides away. Sleep lingered in the inner corners of the baby’s blue eyes, Alcina lowering her towering body until she was kneeling next the basinet, the smell of roses and sandalwood lulling the little thing gently back to sleep, a soft lullaby rumbling from the woman’s chest, words she had nearly forgotten falling of her tongue so gently, so quietly she feared for a moment her baby wouldn’t hear them.
Alas her small body shifted slowly towards her voice like a starved creature seeking its first meal in months, Alcina’s caring tone wrapping the baby in safety and comfort. The woman’s ivory hands caressed the sweetling’s rosy cheeks as she absentmindedly lowered her body to sit on the floor, her right arm resting on the edge of the crib, Alcina’s head resting on top of it, pitch black curls spreading and cascading around her face and neck. She could not stir her gaze from the little thing that laid nestled over soft blankets, not even if the world came to an end right there and then.
Miranda would be furious, murderous even, once she knew that Alcina had stopped whatever she had had prepared for the baby, a crucial part of that important plan she had been crafting for decades, from what the vampire could make out, but in her eyes, whatever was thrown at her would be a small price to pay to keep her safe and sound. Her little Rose. The name floated in her mind slowly, as if it was giving her time to savour it and analyse it, almost as if her brain was telling her there was a very important reason why that had to be her name and after a moment or two of twirling on her tongue and whispering it into the quiet room, her long fingers rubbing her baby’s tummy slowly, Alcina came to the conclusion that it suited her. A name as sweet and beautiful as she was, and as strong and resilient as Alcina and her daughters were, a perfect combination. Rose was a perfectly good name and one that wouldn’t clash with the Dimitrescu title once she was old enough to learn of her place in her new family.
In the mere hours Alcina had had her in her arms Rose had become part of her very own heart, the youngest member of her household but no less important or loved, and if something befell this child, if Alcina found herself unable to protect her, heads would roll, blood dripping from her claws until her soul ceased to scream for her babe, until her heart hardened into stone.
Her deep and melodious voice carried the song with ease, cradling Rose with its delicate notes until those curious blue eyes began to flutter close once more, sleep claiming her after a moment of her trying to fight it and keep her gaze on Alcina. It had always amused her the way babies tried to stay awake even when they can feel their bodies succumbing to it, looking at their parents like they are the most wonderous things in the universe, protectors so full of love. To have Rose looking up at her that way when everyone else stared in horror and fear made her feel nearly human. The last notes faded into the ether as Rose finally fell into a peaceful sleep, little fists curled at her sides, feet covered by a soft cotton blanket.
There was no need to remain on the floor once she was sure Rose was asleep but she could not find it within herself to move, legs stretched to the side, her knees slightly bent over the floral rug, the short crème nightgown she was wearing wrinkled slightly around her lap, the fabric barely covering her upper thighs in this position, white lace peeking from beneath her satin robe where it cupped her breasts. Her dressing gowns had a tendency to slide over her skin like water, the material so soft and slippery that it had flowed over her long legs the moment she had sat on the floor, exposing her porcelain skin to the amber flames that heated up her chambers, only hair-thin veins disturbing her unblemished flesh in faint purple tones around her feet. They were so faint one would almost overlook them unless they were close enough to Alcina to smell her rich floral soap and feel the heat emanating from her body.
Yes, today had been a really long day, unusual and tiring to the extreme, but she hadn’t had much choice in the matter, her heart aching for the little girl, and she wouldn’t have had it any other way, though she couldn’t help wondering where she came from, who her parents were. If Miranda had taken her without a second thought, if she had been abandoned and Miranda had taken the opportunity to use her Rose for whatever plans she had. Alcina highly doubted anyone could ever leave such an angelic being behind, and it’s not like Rose was underfed or filthy, quite the opposite, which begged the question: had Miranda stolen her? And if so, who had helped her kidnap her baby?
Everything around Miranda was always so confusing and complicated, but what had happened today was just borderline manic, and Alcina would demand answers. Beneviento would side with her, of that she was sure, heartbroken as the poor thing was about her own children, Moreau would follow suit, terrified as he was from being left behind and Heisenberg… well, he could be a son of a bitch to Alcina, but her girls were precious to him, like nieces, and Rose would be no less. She would have her answers the moment the other three houses found out about what she had witnessed but as Alcina began to plan on how to tell them without Miranda finding out she considered the possibility of snooping around. It could come in handy, after all any information she could get her hands on could easily give her an advantage against that woman.
And to think Alcina had cherished her, worshipped her, had begged and adored and let her use her for whatever sick experiments she had desired, thinking it would make Miranda love her more than the others, make her the favourite. How could she have thought a woman that possessed no heart could ever love her? After today, Alcina was sure Miranda had only been playing with them, toying and using them for something far more dangerous that she had anticipated, and it was obvious to her now that the moment Miranda deemed them useless, she would kill them, and there was no way in hell she had suffered all this time only to be thrown aside like a tissue. She might have been a fool for believing in her so blindly, but she was not going to be dragged through the mud anymore.
Alcina was done with Miranda, and she was certain Heisenberg would be too, as he did not take lightly to being made a fool, a shared trait. Like brother, like sister one could say. The two of them were strong enough to gather people to fight that manic woman but it wouldn’t be wise to do so as of yet. It would take time and nerves of steel to face the horrors that Rose would have faced had those lunatics been successful in their endeavours, of that Alcina was sure, and she had the feeling that there were still many things to come. She couldn’t make another move, not yet; what she had done today would already bring in horrendous consequences, she could not afford to make a mistake and take a step before her daughters were safe from Miranda. Good thing she had all the time in the world.
The only noise left in the room was that of the flames that burnt bright and licked at the stone walls inside the fireplace, the gusts of wind completely silent now that she had walked away from the window, sharing a moment of indulgence where she could push everything aside, all her worries and problems and just be a mother. Alcina was very good at many things; painting, singing, dancing, piano forte… but being a mother to her daughters was one of the most satisfactory roles she had ever taken on and with Rose sleeping beside her she could almost say that she wasn’t so bad at it either.
True that she wished sometimes her daughters weren’t as cruel or brutal as they were but she could not blame them when Alcina herself was ruthless, a skill one needed if they were to survive in this lands for as long as she had, and truth be told, she preferred them this way than for Miranda to manipulate them or for some hunter to find them and do away with them. She just hoped that Rose would not have to become so cruel, that by the time she was old enough to understand and follow her sisters steps the world they lived in would be safer, free of plans and extortions and experiments. A lovely dream to have in this trying times.
The shattering of porcelain followed by loud screams made her internally curse, breaking the sweet moment, her mind rushing to the thought that a stupid maid had been clumsy enough to break one of her precious vases while her daughters chased her, but the voices that carried through the hallway after a second seemed odd, angry, playful but not the sort of playful that came with a game of hunting. It made her instincts spike and the smells in the room shift, making her more alert, and when the sound of glass breaking reached her ears after a moment she jumped to her knees and pushed herself to stand, making her way towards the door in long strides, fear and anger bubbling inside her chest. The hem of her robe danced around her ankles, the soft fabric threatening to slide of her shoulders in her hurry to reach the foyer, leaving her nightgown nearly exposed for anyone to see, bare feet meeting the cold marble floors of the hallway the moment her right hand had pushed the door wide open, her left one gripping the doorframe as she bent down.
Glancing towards the end of the corridor she was nearly hit by a smaller frame, golden pools suddenly staring at a pair of chocolate eyes that looked at her in unexpected terror and wonder, the smell of blood and dirt gracing her nostrils with such brute force she had to take a step back to steady herself, the foul smell so strong that she nearly missed the hints of something sweet hiding underneath. If his surprised expression was anything to go by, Alcina had definitely caught this unknown man off guard, the bruises and wounds that peeked through his modern clothes glimmering gently against the soft candlelight that bathed the corridor. This stranger of blond hair the shade of sun beams had managed to enter her castle, walk past her servants and make it all the way up here without getting caught, the blood on his clothes stale, old, giving away that he had fought his way through the wild to get here and that simple thought filled her with such fury that her perfectly manicured hands shot out to grab him by the throat, slamming his back against the wall as she rose to her full height, sliding him upwards so she would meet his eyes.
-Who are you?! If you have laid a single filthy finger on my daughters… – the first words she had actually spoken in hours fell from her lips raspy and deep, sounding nearly like a growl more than a whisper, grave and dangerous, his heart beating against his ribs with such force the sound threatened to overwhelm her delicate hearing but she pushed through, the grip bruising. Her sharp red nails were a stunning contrast of perfection against his filthy skin.
-Wh… I… didn’t see…
-Answer me man-thing!
-No one… There was… no… one – that couldn’t possibly be true, she had heard the screams, and her daughters would have picked up on the foreign smell as soon as he had stepped through the doors. As late as it was, her daughters preferred to play well into the night before finally turning in and this man-thing carried a strong odour with him. It was obvious he was lying and yet his eyes held no trace of deceive, in fact there was nothing but terror and undeniable exhaustion hiding behind those dark irises and that worried Alcina more than anything. She loosened her grip slightly, his bandaged hands rushing to hold onto her arm as he gasped and coughed.
-I won’t ask again. Who are you? Have you done anything to my daughters?!
-Mother? – the innocent voice of her sweet Bela graced her ears, her head quickly turning to see her three roses standing at the end of the corridor, surprise clear on their faces. If they hadn’t been the ones screaming, who had been? It had been a female; that’s for certain but there was no sign of anyone else except this man and her three girls, their faces barely stained of blood and their clothes covered by blankets, suggesting that they had been perhaps in the library or in one of their bedrooms having some sort of a sleepover. – Sorry mother, we didn’t know you were… playing. We heard noises and we came to see if it was one of the maids.
-It’s alright Bela, my dear, I didn’t mean to make so much noise while I handled this man-thing.
-Can we play with him?! Oh, please mother, we haven’t had a man in the house for years! It’s so thrilling to see their fear as you skin them alive! – Daniela’s sharp laugh filled the quiet corridor, making the man visibly tremble. She could easily end this and forget all about him but if he had made the journey here it was because he wanted something and she wasn’t going to let him off the hook without getting any answers, besides she needed to know who the female scream had been, if aside from him anyone else was roaming her castle. One look from Alcina quickly quieted the girl down, though she was quick to ease the girls worries.
-Not yet my love. I would like to know what the hell this man is doing in my castle first. – her golden eyes met his, her gaze so sharp it could almost slice his skin, her face inches from him as she spoke, each word quieter, more dangerous, her floral perfume a delightful change from the metallic stench of blood and rotten flesh. – Speak before I rip your head off.
-I… I was told my daughter was here.
-Your daughter?
-Yes. She… she was taken and… and a woman told me that… I could find her here.
-A woman you had never met before told you that your abducted child was in my castle and that stupid man brain of yours thought that instead of doubting her you had to break into my home and put my family in jeopardy?! All for a child that you don’t even know if it’s here?!! - if she had been pointing a gun to his head he wouldn’t have felt as much a fear as he did right know hearing those words as venomous as arsenic. The lady was so close he could smell her perfume as if it was part of him, deep tones of roses mixing with that of rich wine, the back of his head pressed against the wall so hard he could feel the pressure building, and yet for the first time since everything had happened back home he couldn’t help but be bewitched by her questioning gaze and prominent presence. – If all that is a lie and you’ve been sent here to kill me and my daughters…
-I don’t want to harm anyone; I just want my child. I swear.
-If what you say is true don’t you think that maybe instead of helping you, she might have wanted to send you to your death Mr…
-Winters, Ethan Winters. – that name…
Mother Miranda had mentioned him in the last meeting, told them he was dangerous, deranged, that he wanted to destroy everything they had built and that if any of them found him they were to tell her immediately or better yet, kill him. All of a sudden her words made sense, but not because he was a threat, not to Alcina or her daughters perhaps, but because he was a threat to Miranda, to whatever she was planning and instead of eliminating him herself she commanded them to do her dirty work, probably because it would be easier to blame it all on whoever was unfortunate enough come across Winters if things went wrong. Without her even trying the pieces of the puzzle were falling into place all on their own, and she would be foolish not to take advantage of this moment. Her pearly white teeth glimmered in the night as her lips broke into a smile, one that sent shivers down his spine, her bare hand following the shape of his jaw, a gasp escaping his lips when he felt her claws gracing his skin.
-I… I don’t care if she misled me or not lady… I just want to find my daughter, and if she says you have her… you can’t blame me for looking.
-And you think you have the right to break into my house to do so?! You lost a child, it doesn’t mean you can come here and claim one of mine.
-I would never do that! Just tell me if you have my baby, that’s all! I’ve been through hell, and I am not giving up if I’m close to getting her back! – even if he might be a clue to finding out Miranda’s plan it gave him no right to raise his voice at her in her own house! Her grip hardened on his throat once again, separating him from the wall only to smash him back against it, dust falling from the ceiling, the chandelier rattling slightly as he groaned in pain.
-How dare you speak to me like that you disgusting man-thing!
Before she had the time to act on her anger a sharp cry was heard from inside her chambers, her Rose wailing in fear at the commotion. Her instinct made her lose her grip on Winters, his body colliding with the ground with a loud thud but not before he had called out his daughter’s name, a loud “Rosemary” that had the crying of her baby halt for an instant before continuing. It could be a coincidence and that she had only stopped crying to catch her breath, but something told Alcina that she had to give Winters credit for that, the man attempting to crawl on his hands and knees but failing as his body refused to respond.
Inside her head a voice was screaming at Alcina to stay with him, to make sure he didn’t escape her grasp. She wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t hurt her children if she turned her back on him, her daughters standing in shock at the end of the foyer unsure of whether to act or let their mother handle it, but her mother instinct was too great and her baby’s wails had her heart hammering against her ribs and her chest aching to run to her so that hands trembled slightly. Bela, Daniela and Cassandra were old enough and strong enough to keep him in line if he tried anything, mostly Cassandra as her vicious tendencies were well known to Alcina, but Rose was just a babe and Winters, regardless of whether he was indeed the child’s father or not, was still a stranger and a danger.
She only had seconds to make her choice, her gaze travelling from her three daughters to Winters and finally to the crib inside her rooms, the baby’s cries growing louder, more urgent. In the end her family would always come first.
-Daughters, don’t let him get away. – The sound of sharp sickles and bugs buzzing around the corridor felt like music to her ears as she turned around, ducking fast under the threshold with her hands over the golden frames, her stature making her gravity centre too high, her feet stumbling slightly as she walked but still, she remained as graceful as possible.
Rose’s face was scrunched up, her chubby cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, fists swaying as she cried, fat tears falling onto the mattress as they rolled down her angelic face. It was as if Alcina was being stabbed at the sight, ivory hands rushing to pick the little bundle up and cradle her against her ample bosom, the tears ceasing the moment Rose felt the woman’s touch. One hand remained under her bottom while the other was pressed against the baby’s back and head, the little body moulding perfectly to the curve of her chest and the crook of her neck. She knew the man would try to stand, perhaps dare to enter her private chambers speaking nonsense about her baby, but what did it matter? He was in her territory now; a sweet advantage she had every intention of abusing if he even thought of making the wrong move.
From the ground Ethan managed to push himself to all fours, his eyes never leaving the vampire’s body as she moved, his breath hitching in his lungs when he saw his precious child being held and soothed with tender whispers and soft pecks on top of her head by the woman everyone had spoken of as a blood sucking monster capable of murder without remorse. This woman that could have ripped him in half was holding his baby in way he had never seen Mia do, Rosemary calming down in this stranger’s arms as if she belonged there. It broke his heart but at the same time the terror of not knowing, the fear of whether she was alive or not faded slowly into a deep relief that had tears falling down his cheeks, the hot salty drops mixing with the dirt and dried blood that caked his skin.
-Rosemary. Please… Is she okay?
He crawled on the floor like a pathetic insect, his whole body shaking with exhaustion and adrenaline. From the corner of her eye Alcina could see just how hard he was fighting to get to her, pushing himself to the absolute limit, his question lingering in the air, the answer forming on her tongue even though her attention was completely on Rose. She could be kind enough to tell him the truth, but trust didn’t come easy and he still hadn’t proven to her that he was indeed Rose’s father or that he posed no danger to her and her family. If he thought he could take her without Alcina putting up a fight, he had to be a fool and yet his drained frame kept crawling, slowly but steadily.
-Ethan, don’t you want to play with us?
-Aren’t you curious as to what games we know?
-It’s so much fun to be with us Ethan.
Sharp metal scrapped the marble floors quietly, the girls sickening laughter and giggles turning Ethan’s blood to ice. They were right behind him, brushing his legs with their deadly weapons like he was a toy, bugs flying before his eyes as a warning sign. A small movement could be the difference between having his heart ripped out or being able to see his daughter smile at him, even if it was for a moment but he had to try, he had to get to HER. All three girls were hovering over him like famished animals, their metallic breaths practically in his ears as they whispered threats, playful promises of death and torture.
But his eyes never left Alcina.
Monsters didn’t have hair that shone like obsidian, falling in gentle waves around their necks, they didn’t have eyes like rivers of gold with long and thick eyelashes hiding away the rims of blue around her irises. They didn’t have skin like porcelain, perfectly smooth, not a blemish in sight, soft hues of apricot on the apple of her cheeks. Monsters didn’t whisper sweet nothing to a baby from plump, deep red lips as easily as she was doing, soothing cries and fears softly. If her hands could rip his very own head off, her perfectly manicured nails sharp as knifes, how could she cradle his child like Rosemary was the most precious things in the world? The old woman and the villagers, even the Duke had told him of the horrors that would await him in her castle, the blood, the bodies…
Lady Dimitrescu didn’t look like a monster to him, not like this, and it made him wonder if he was delirious, seeing things that were not there and that in truth this woman of onyx hair and eyes as deep as an ocean was devouring his child before him, but his mind wouldn’t trick him like that. Her daughters were terrifying, yes, and the tall woman was clearly capable of making him crap his pants, but looking at her like this, with the tender light of the flames dancing over her ivory skin, her sating robe threating to fall of her frame from where it hanged around her shoulders, legs swaying softly from side to side to lull Rosemary back to sleep, she didn’t look threatening. She looked like the mother Mia had not been, always running, hiding herself as she had been. He crawled to the threshold of the lady’s chambers; fingers pressed against the floor past her door.
-Please, tell me Rosemary is okay. Tell me she’s not hurt.
Turning her head over her shoulder she couldn’t help the look of disgust that graced her eyes at the sight of his pathetic form trembling and shaking as adrenaline rushed through him, but it was only there for a few seconds, her gaze softening ever so slightly when she saw that Winters was indeed crying silent tears. Men tended to be far too proud, even when death was hovering over their weak bodies, fighting to keep some sort of semblance of control over Alcina and her daughters when in reality they had never stood chance. Ethan Winters was nothing like the men they usually feasted on, and that made curiosity bloom in her chest.
-She’s perfectly alright Mr. Winters. No thanks to you.
-All this wasn’t my fault! – with broken hands and fury lingering in his eyes Ethan held onto the doorframe, standing on shaky legs. If he was trying to cower Alcina or seem like he had an ounce of control over the situation it really didn’t show, the woman’s head held high as she turned around to face him fully. -Chris betrayed us! He burst in like he owned the place, killed Mia and took Rosemary in just a few minutes!
-And where were you when that happened Mr. Winters? Taking a midnight stroll? -the intended jab hurt. It hurt so bad he feared that if she sliced him up his soul wouldn’t bled as much, the weight of his failure engraved deeply into his bones. Her beauty matched her cruelty in equal amounts, and in a way, it harmed him even further than he thought possible to know that this woman could read him like this, to shove in his face the mistakes he had made. She wasn’t wrong though. He had stood there, like an idiot while his whole world crumbled and had let the avalanche bury him alive. Alcina took a step closer to him, Rosie asleep against her ample chest like she belonged there. - If you are indeed her father you would have fought for her, you wouldn’t have let anyone take her.
-I did! I fought until my hands bled but what could I do against guns and the military?! – how he was still standing, neither of them knew, but the rage and the pain were fuel enough for him to let go of the frame and walk towards her, tears flowing so hot that he felt his skin burn, his hands pointing at her, moving up and down as if he didn’t know what to do with them. The outburst wasn’t totally unexpected by Alcina, but it didn’t surprise her to see the fire in his chocolate eyes. Good, she needed to know that he had enough strength to fight the battles ahead. - You don’t know how hard I’ve tried, the things I’ve done and seen to get here, to get her back.
-And why should I care Mr. Winters? – she hadn’t raised her hand, but the cold question felt like a sharp slap on his cheek. - I know perfectly well what’s out there, what monsters lurk in the shadows and who controls them. I must admit that you surviving all that is quite extraordinary, but why should I believe that this is your daughter? You have not given me any reason to believe you.
-Isn’t knowing her name proof enough? – his voice seemed so small, so quiet. He felt small, worthless in her presence. Lady Dimitrescu was nothing like Mia; she spoke the truths he didn’t want to face without a care, her honesty brutal and heartbreaking but somehow, he appreciated it. Mia had been so full of secrets, so full lies that the vampire’s questions and facts, although painful and bloody, gave him truth. How could he feel as if this woman was being almost compassionate towards him when his very own wife had seemed like a stranger?
-Anyone could get lucky and figure out a name. Convince me of what you are saying, and I might keep you around longer than one night. Might even be kind enough to do away with you myself instead of letting my daughters kill you.
-Mother! – he had almost forgotten that he had three murderous girls behind him, the keywords being almost. He could never forget that three sickles awaited confirmation to decapitate him on the spot, though the exasperation on Alcina’s face was indication enough that the girls’ whines were unnecessary and probably grating on her nerves at the moment.
-Quiet! - Her voice boomed against the ornate walls. - Show me proof Mr. Winters.
-I… She… Rosemary has a birthmark on her bellybutton in the shape of rose, that’s why we named her that. – Alcina had seen it when she had changed her baby’s damp clothes into what she had had in her closet from when her girls had been young, the shape indeed quite similar to the flower, her pale skin contrasting with its rosy tones. - The doctors said that it might fade before she hit four months, but it hasn’t. She loves when we read “The Hungry Caterpillar”. In less than ten minutes she’s asleep like a rock. She also likes to dance to a band called “Miss D and the Pallboys”. Well, as well as babies can dance. - When was the last time anyone had said that name in her presence? Decades probably, but fate and time had a way of connecting dots and making people cross paths when the moment was right. Alcina now understood why Rose was so comfortable with her, why she cuddled up to her and listened to her voice like it was a guiding star. Her grip on the baby became slightly harder, her soft cheek resting against her collarbone. - Mia found a CD in a music store while pregnant and used to play it to Rose before naptime to tire her out so she could get things done while Rosie slept. She also makes quiet gurgles when she’s deep asleep and has to be swaddled otherwise, she’ll wiggle like a little worm around her crib, but only at night; she can be covered by a blanket at nap time because she doesn’t move an inch. Please, she’s my child.
-It seems that some of the things you have mentioned are indeed true, but you must understand Mr. Winters that I cannot trust your word yet.
-Please, I’ll do anything lady. Anything, if you let me hold her.
-Those are dangerous words Ethan Winters.
-But true. Rosemary is my only child.
This could go so wrong, but what choice did he have. Well, things were already shit as they were, but he had already found Rosie, staying here, making a deal might be an actual improvement to being chased by whatever those things out there were or having Chris breathing down his neck. At least here he was warm and the lady of the castle was an enigma hidden behind an exquisite face that he didn’t mind looking at every day. Either Ethan was a masochist and he sought pain to feel alive, an aftermath of Louisiana, or he had gone mad, which in his mind wasn’t really different from being a masochist. Alcina savoured his words like wine on her tongue, drinking in every possibility, the power and the advantage that having him would bring over Miranda. Breathing in Rose’s strawberry soap her sense of smell picked up on those sweet notes she had practically tasted on Winters before, but there was something strange, something special coursing through his veins that was making her mouth water at the idea of perhaps having a taste. He had said anything after all.
-Bela, tell one of the maids to prepare a room for Mr. Winters. He’ll stay the night.
-Yes, mother.
-As a guest?! He’s food mother!
-Don’t raise your voice, Daniela, there’s no need for such behaviour. – Alcina’s tone remained levelled, controlled as she walked back to Rose’s crib, placing the sleeping baby over the cotton blankets before standing to her full height. With no child in her arms and Ethan shaking in his spot, afraid to move even an inch with the three psychopaths behind him, he could only stare at the woman, her posture regal and her skin glowing gently in the night. -You and your sisters will tell one of the maids to prepare a room as Mr. Winters and I have many things to talk about.
-But he’s a man!
-I’m well aware of that fact Daniela, but he did say that he’d do anything. – in an unexpected move Alcina had Winters by the throat again, pulling him up to her height, his legs swaying in desperation as his fingers clawed at the skin of her arm in an attempt to escape. How pathetic of him to think that he could inflict any kind of pain on her, that he had ever stood a chance of escaping. A sadistic smile spread on her red lips, her grasp making him practically beg for air. - We shall see what extent “anything” can reach.
Winters was launched forcefully against the corridor wall, paintings rattling and dust falling of the ceiling upon impact, a crack appearing in the glass of one of the cabinets that stood right outside her bedchambers, the sound of his body colliding loud and blunt until it fell like a rag doll onto the ground. Alcina was well aware of how strong she was and with what force she had thrown him but thankfully the noise hadn’t woken Rosie up, allowing the woman to make her way to him, bending under the threshold with both hands on the doorframe. It clicked shut behind her as soon as she came to stand to her full height over his crumpled body. Blood spilt from his nose as groans and puffs escaped his raw throat, eyes glassy with tears and pain, the excited giggles of Alcina’s daughters never reaching his ears, only a sharp ringing filling his head. Step by step, swaying her hips slowly as her robe flowed around her body, Alcina walked over to the excuse of a man trembling at her feet, her meandric figure lowering until one of her knees rested on top of the cold floors, ivory fingers taking hold of his shirt.
-Perhaps you’d feel more comfortable in one of the dungeons Mr. Winters. An actual room seems too much of a luxury for someone like you. Besides, - her nails dug onto his chest, so sharp they felt like knives, gentle drops of crimson liquid running down his body onto the ground, the blue in her eyes no longer visible, only the hunger and suffocating control she possessed. - I’m not convinced you won’t harm us just to get to Rose, so I’d rather have you well caged.
One look from their mother and Cassandra and Daniela rushed in glee to pierce his legs with their sickles, a scream ripping from his chest as the blades sliced his skin and muscle, Bela nowhere to be seen. He hadn’t noticed the girl leaving, not that he had had much chance of paying attention to his surroundings when his whole frame shook and began to slide over the floors, both girls pulling his body in the direction their mother was going down the corridor, but he had heard the distinctive sound of insects buzzing. Strange, he had thought before everything had gone to hell, it was an unusual season for bugs.
All he could think about now was that he was damned.
His whole existence had to be cursed; there was no other explanation for this constant abuse and pain. Ethan couldn’t understand why his life was like this, why every person he had thought were his friends turned out to be liars and murderers, the image of Mia on the kitchen floor engraved in his mind. He only wanted his daughter, nothing more and yet the only honest answers and direct threats he had received had come from this beautiful blood sucking woman and the three psychopaths she called daughters. It was utterly comical if it wasn’t, by far, way more terrifying than funny.
For how tall Alcina was, it irked Ethan beyond believe how he couldn’t really hear her footsteps as they walked down the hall and into a marble staircase where the walls seemed to go higher and higher wherever he looked, the ceiling miles away above him, the distant light of the chandelier fading as his body hoovered in midair, Cassandra and Daniela lifting themselves in a swarm of bugs that had his heart practically in his throat, flying down the stairs in a mass of giggles and cackles that clashed with the regal posture of their mother. Reaching the blue doble doors he had crossed hours ago though in truth it couldn’t have been more than perhaps half an hour, he suddenly remembered that they led to the courtyard, snow and wind blasting from every direction and for an instant relief washed over him thinking that he would be let go.
Foolish, foolish man.
Everyone halted as they reached the bottom of the stairs, his upper back and head colliding with the floor when the girls transformed back into humans, if one could call them that, the sensation of being both weightless and being made out of lead crashing together in a dizzying bang that knocked the wind out of him. Alcina’s delicate hearing had suffered greatly at his screams and whines, loud and unapologetic as they had been as they dragged him, bouncing of the walls in echoes that bathed her soul in a sweet sensation of control and dominance but oh, how she loved being in charge. One step ahead of Miranda and for once, above Heisenberg in his plans to destroy the blond woman. It was indeed a most delicious feeling.
The single ray of hope Ethan had been clinging to vanished when he saw Lady Dimitrescu walking over to the left side of the hall, away from the doors, lifting silver a candelabra from a nearby table and lighting it with the flames of a wall torch before pushing a wooden panel with her flat palm, the room shaking slightly as the wall parted before her. He should have accounted for the secret passages that always existed in castles, but he had been a tad bit preoccupied so it wasn’t as if he could have remembered such a superfluous thing, still he cursed internally for being so naïve as to think he had any chance of escaping this hell hole. He had a feeling that boat had sailed long ago.
The opulence they were surrounded by ended abruptly past the secret door, bare stone walls covered in moss and trickles of humidity welcoming them, the light of the flames in the lady’s hand casting shadows between each crack, like bony hands that were pushing against the elements to get to them and rip them of their souls. Or at least Ethan would be. He highly doubted the females in this castle had anything left. Alcina was the first to set foot into the passageway, her once bare feet now wearing a pair of crème-coloured heels she had purposely left by the entrance in case she ever needed them, the woman refusing to taint her perfect skin with the dirt and rat excrements that resided in every corner. A prepared lady was a wise one in most aspects, and Alcina showed just how well acquainted she was with unexpected trips to the dungeons.
Adjusting her robe with one hand the lady bent her massive form to duck under the stone archway, rising to her full height after a step or two, the clicking of her shows floating and echoing against the stones, pitch darkness hiding the endless tunnel ahead. Ethan hadn’t even noticed the nearly silent whimpers that trembled out of his mouth, tears falling nonstop at the pain and the despair, his limbs too tired and heavy to fight. Soon enough the girls began to walk and his legs howled in pain as the blades dug even deeper into his flesh, the freezing but smooth floors fading into a set of rough stairs that dug ad scraped his back, the slow parade of death dragging out his sense of desperation, his bloodied hands trying to protect his head from being cracked open by the wet ground.
-I’m sure you understand Mr. Winters that as a mother I cannot let a strange man just waltz around my castle. There are rules and customs under my roof that you wouldn’t quite understand but I’m positive that if you prove to me that you truly mean no harm… - looking over her shoulders, golden irises watching him from behind her long and thick lashes, lips smirking at his current predicament, a quiet laugh erupted from within her chest as the reflection of the amber flames danced over her skin. – a deal can be made.
-De… deal?
-Do not concern yourself with the specifics as of yet Mr. Winters. – her steps boomed inside the narrow passage, and although he felt as if he had been dragged for hours the taller woman turned a corner sharply, his side crashing against a mound of broken boxes and bricks that he was sure would leave a bruise on his lips, a groan accompanying it but not before Cassandra chastised him for being so whiny and loud, the girl making her point clearer by digging her sickle down to his bone. Alcina didn’t say a word to her child, just kept walking and talking, glancing at him every once in a while, as if she was making sure, he was paying attention. - It’s so terribly boring to talk business when there are much more important things to address.
-What are you talking about?!
-Now now Mr. Winters, you forget yourself. – at last, the tunnel faded into a spacious room of crumbling bricks and bloodied cells, rusty chains and toppled over chairs resting over the stone floors. The ceilings were tall, like domes that allowed Alcina to stand without issue, the stench of dried blood and humidity filling Ethan’s lungs like poison but he remained as quiet as he could. There was only one dungeon that ha the luxury of a broken-down bed and a lavatory and his suspicions were proved right when Daniela and Cassandra threw him inside with a terrifying force, his back landing flat on the ground, his vision turning black for a few seconds. The relief of the sickles being removed was like rain on thirty lands, but it didn’t last long. Alcina’s voice has turned darker, deeper and far more dangerous that he had heard before, the hem of her robe brushing the ground as she bent over him, onyx curls framing her cold face. - While I allow you to live under my roof you will cease this incessant need to raise your voice at me. You are still alive, which is more than I’ve granted trespassers in all these years, so watch yourself.
-Why are you doing this?! I just want my daughter!
-Silence! – the way the back of her hand collided with his cheek filled his ears with a loud ringing, eyes unfocused for a moment or two, blood trickling form his nose once again only now it was accompanied by a straight split on his lip. – You will never see Rosemary again unless you learn to keep that attitude to yourself Ethan Winters. I can be a patient woman, but it runs low when things like you come into my home and act as if you own it. Step out of line again and I will slice to ribbons, understood?
-Y… Yes. Understood.
-Good. It really would be a shame to have to do away with you when you smell so delectable. Perhaps you’d grant me a taste. – her thumb brushed his lower lip, gathering the few droplets of blood that had threatened to slid down his chin, Alcina bringing her hand to her face until the crimson liquid could be gathered on her tongue, sweet, rich and metallic, a hint or two of something spicy twirling in the back of her throat as she swallowed. It sent sparks down her whole body, energetic and intoxicating, her pupils dilating for in instant. – Hmm. My my, you are quite delicious Mr. Winters. I think I’ll savour my new favourite vintage.
Her soft hand shot out to grab his wrist, her skin surprisingly warm against his clammy flesh but she paid it no mind, slicing his jacket and shirt with the claws of her right hand. The veins bulged at the base of his palm, her ear picking up on the hammering of his heart and the flow of his blood, the sharp blades that shot out of her fingers making one single cut parallel to his wrist. The hot and sticky crimson fluid poured out for her, abundant and bright, a pathetic scream filling up the empty dungeons. Alcina didn’t waste a second before kneeling on the ground and lapping her tongue on his wound, the metallic taste, far sweeter and stronger than before overwhelming her senses, a quiet moan rumbling in her chest in utter delight.
The lady had had many young things with delectable bloods, but no one could compare to the spicy undertones and the richness that gathered on her taste buds, eyes so dilated the golden of her irises threatened to be overtaken by her pupils. The power she felt, the jolt of electricity it sent through her whole body had her digging her fangs on his flesh to drink big gulps of his extraordinary blood, the flavour of him like fresh cherries in springtime, sweet and dark and it tainted her lips as she drank greedily. It was as if she was breathing for the first time, her whole body waking up from a very long slumber, warming her up to the point that even the apples of her cheeks were turning a richer shade of apricot.
It travelled down her throat and settled in her stomach light as a feather but a little voice in the back of her head she knew she had to stop. His whole frame was practically convulsing, the initial feeling of her tongue on his skin sending goosebumps all over, but the sensation didn’t do anything to mask the pain of being sliced, much less when her teeth sank into him, sharp and horrific, his dark eyes watching in disbelieve as she drank him in, his vision blurring around the edges as the seconds passed, the weight of his limbs growing heavier and heavier, but what was he to do? He was helpless to the lady’s ministrations, and her voracious appetite was leaving him dry but just as black spots had begun to dance before his eyes the woman teared herself from him, chest heaving with each rapid breath she took, her plump breasts nearly fighting the restrains of the lace she wore.
Trickles of blood ran down in thin streams from the corners of her mouth down her chin, travelling down the column of her neck towards her sternum, Ethan’s eyes following it enthralled as if he had never seen such a thing before, his gaze lifting to meet her eyes after an instant. The smile was dismal, terrifying almost as her pearly white teeth shone under the candlelight in tainted hues of pink, lipstick smeared above her cupid’s bow while the imprint of her lips laid on his wrist. The last thing he saw before passing out were the fluttering of her eyelashes as her irises became the most beautiful shade of cyan before turning a subdued shade of gold, so big and deep he could drown in them. The back of his head hit the floor as his body became lip at her feet. Looking at him like this, Ethan Winters didn’t look like much of a threat, but the vampire couldn’t risk it and with practiced ease she trapped his ankles by a pair of shackles whose chains connected to the ground opposite the cell doors.
He was going nowhere now.
-Daughters, - from her bosom Alcina pulled a pristine handkerchief, cleaning herself gently while her towering from stood to its full height, turning to face her two girls that waited patiently at the other side of the cell, Cassandra’s hands twitching to feats on his man flesh. She’d have to make do with one of the servants if she so desired. – have a maid come down here and assist Mr. Winters’ injuries and make sure they understand that if he dies, I’ll turn them into wine in the most torturous way possible. He must stay alive no matter what.
-Of course, mother. Shall we fetch Bela?
-That won’t be necessary, I can hear her humming down the corridor. – right on queue the blond girl walked in with a spring on her step and her sickle twirling in her hand, a bug or two flying above her head.
-Florentina is fetching some sheets and towels mother. That should be enough, shouldn’t it?
-Yes, my darling. You are all such wonderful daughters.
Alcina placed her hands on Daniela’s cheeks and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, leaving the imprint of her lipstick over the girl’s pale skin, the shade matching her ginger hair. Cassandra waited for her turn, closing her eyes the instant she felt her mother’s touch, breathing in the comforting floral perfume. Bela, being the quietest and perhaps the calmest of the three received her mother’s kiss with childish glee and returned the affection with a swift hug that had Alcina smiling so tenderly one Couldn’t comprehend how she had drank a man’s blood only a few moments before and was now attending to her children as if nothing had happened.
-I must check on your baby sister, but I trust that you’ll keep an eye on things before going to bed.
-I’ll make sure of it, mother. No stupid maid will damage him.
Cassandra was perhaps the one that sought her mother’s touch and approval the most, jumping to the opportunity of making Alcina happy and proud any time chances presented themselves and the older woman was extremely aware of it. Still, she fed her daughter with another kiss, this time on the cheek and a smile that could light up the sky. Satisfied and content Alcina turned and began to walk back to her rooms the same way she had arrived at the dungeons, the candelabra heavy in her hand.
It seemed her day had just become a hell of a lot better.
Walking back to her chambers only silence met her ears, the maids forbidden from using any of the passageways unless explicitly told, allowing the woman a moment on her own to think about how lucky she had suddenly become. Ethan Winters was an advantage she had never even considered, just a name Mother Miranda had mentioned once but after tasting him, after witnessing the endurance this man possessed it had become clear he wasn’t normal and she had every intention of keeping him for as long as possible. The fact that his blood was so utterly delectable was just a plus, a wonderful plus. But she had to keep him a secret, hiding in plain sight otherwise Miranda would become furious with her and Alcina didn’t have the strength to fight her on her own and keep her daughters safe. An idea struck her as she walked back up the stairs towards the main hall, metal scraps resting against the wall.
The panel was still open, waiting for her to cross the threshold so the wall could return to its original place and Alcina wasted no time getting out of the damp and rather repulsive place, removing her stained heels quickly as the tunnel sealed itself behind her. Her bare feet rested over the perfectly polished marble, her eyes catching the blood and water spots around the hem of her robe as she left the candelabra on the table, the fabric sliding off her body and pooling around her feet in the middle of the hall. Her refusal to bring dirty clothes to her bed chambers was well known to every maid and now that she had Rose the rule would become even stricter. Leaving the useless items behind the woman returned to her rooms, and in consequence Rosemary’s side.
The warmth that enfolded her as soon as she pushed the door open and bent to get inside was a most appreciated welcome after being in the dungeons, the aroma of cotton and sandalwood filling her lungs. Alcina was beyond content, her thirst quenched and her heart soaring amongst the clouds, her eyes glancing at Rosemary the moment the door clicked shut behind her. Well, perhaps Winters had not been lying after all, the little thing sleeping sideways with the blanket bunched by her tiny feet, deep in slumber. In the morning she’d look in the library and brush up on her swaddling skills, right now she had to make a call.
On top of her vanity, right next to her powders and lipstick a most exquisite white telephone awaited. Her fingers turned the wheel as her body settled on the velvet stool underneath the table, number after number connecting her with the one that she knew would be most delighted to hear about it all. The phone connected, ringing once, then twice and then a third time before a scruffy voice answered, the sound of it already grating on Alcina’s nerves.
-What do you want? I was busy.
-Playing with toys doesn’t count as being busy, Karl. Some of us have actual businesses that keep us busy.
-Are you calling just to shove your wine on my face or is there something else you want, supersized bi-
-Watch your language and tone, Heisenberg. – the shabby men in the other end hated how her low tone automatically made him shudder in fear. She was just a tall ass vampire with claws, it wasn’t as if she was anything stranger than himself, but he still shut up, even if he had a few snappy comebacks practically begging to be let out. The silence that followed made Alcina smile triumphantly. - I actually have something in my possession that you might be interested in.
-Did you find a funeral home that could fit your big ass head in a casket, and you just got the delivery?!
-Don’t be a cretin! If you are not interested in what I have to say I’ll hung up.
-Fine! What is it?
-Come over tomorrow morning and you’ll be able to see it with your own eyes.
-Are you fucking with me?! – the woman had to pull the phone away from her ears when the sound of metal crashing against the wall threatened to burst her eardrums, Karl’s frustration having made whatever scrap was around him shoot in every direction possible. - You could take the stick out of your ass every once in a while and be nice to me Alcina!
-You are such a child! Always wanting everything right now. And to think that someone like me is related to someone like you. Unbelievable
-You done being a bitch?!
-When you stop acting like an absolute jackass! – she could feel him scowling through the line, exactly as he used to do when he was younger, with his arms crossed and his lips pursed, probably with a cigar burning away in a makeshift astray, seething to talk back but his own curiosity winning over. He grumbled something close to a whatever. - Anyways, come over tomorrow, properly washed, and you and I can talk about your little plan to get rid of Miranda. I believe I just acquired quite the leverage against her.
Karl was stunned into silence and to be honest Alcina didn’t give him time to respond before she was hanging up on him. The reflection that met her in the mirror felt like a million Lei, elated to such a level that even the snow outside seemed like a work of art. Alcina Dimitrescu had grown displeased with her faith and she was going to do something about it.
Summary: Lilia has never been too fond of Halloween as her past was full of horrible things that kept her from breaking free from her bubble, but with you in her life maybe she could begin to live a little and let herself experience that which she thought was never hers to enjoy.
Warnings: smut (+18), oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), slight tit play, blood, biting, vampires, hair pulling, power play, magic, mentions of slaughter, horror (like just a bit of a vibe, not full on horror), thunderstorms...
Author's note: This is a fic for @libbythatcherssecretgf for her Secret Santa. I was supposed to write top!reade, vampires and a bit of aftercare so I hope I did justice to your rquest and thet you like it. As always, tell me if I need to be more graphic, if I'm lacking in something... I accept ideas and suggestions that you might have. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's thank Patti Lupone for giving us Lilia Calderu, and Jac for writing her so beautifully.
Shoutout to @bravewithacapitalb for being my beta reader and @p2pecleanerwitheyes
Word count: 9K (tried to make it short, maybe it was too short)
Matters of the heart
-Wine?
A tall glass was presented to her, the rich red drink swirling softly inside as slender fingers held onto the stem, each long and sharp nail catching the light of the fireplace. Lilia could not help but observe just how sharp they looked, sure that they could scratch her skin until it bled with ease, an eery feeling that it happened more often than not, crawling up her spine. Still, she reached out to grab the glass with careful movements, her fingers brushing your skin for an instant, an icy chill spreading through her skin at the touch. The room wasn’t cold enough for your skin to feel like it was encased in snow but here you were, smiling down at Lilia from where she was sitting on a burgundy armchair, your movements graceful as you grabbed your own glass of wine from the table next to you.
Silence reigned in the chambers you had taken her to even if down in the ball room violins and cellos played away, gowns brushing the marble floors as the ladies were danced around until they could not stand, laughter and whispers bouncing of the walls. Poor souls you thought, lips touching the rim of your glass. If only she knew what would happen to them when the candles dimmed downstairs and moonlight broke through the tall windows. Your drink was thicker in texture than hers Lilia noticed, your eyes watching intently as her cherry lipstick left an imprint on her glass, drinking alongside you, the initial bitterness melting slightly once the wine filled her mouth.
She could taste a certain sweetness that your tongue didn’t pick up, only the irony taste of your special blend, after all you were drinking something quite different from what had been poured in her glass.
-It’s better like this, isn’t it my dear? Just us both, no one else pestering you for a dance or boring you with absolutely soporific conversations.
-It’s quite nice countess. Less loud.
-Was the music bothering you? – the hem of your black and blackberry purple ball gown brushed over the dark carpet as you left your glass on the table, the crimson liquid staining the sides in a shade so very different to the one that Lilia had on her tongue, your steps slow, calculated as you approached her. – If you had told me I would have removed them all from my castle.
-No, no. The music was perfect. It was just… there were too many people. I’ve been travelling for a while now and I am not yet used to such crowds.
-Soon enough my guests will vacate the room, and you won’t even need to see them when morning comes. My companions will take care of them and make sure to keep them quiet as not to disturb you, I assure you.
-I do not wish to ruin your party countess. It was just a comment, not judgment of any kind.
-Oh, my dear. Such a polite little thing you are. – the same fingers she had been watching since you had offered your hand to her by the front doors, the music loud and the drinks too bitter for Lilia’s taste, were now tracing the shape of perfectly coiled curls that framed her face, deep brunette locks peppered with the very first grey strands time had brough upon her, the tip of your nails brushing her cheek sending shivers down her spine. - My party has been a success from the very beginning, and my companions have plans for my guests that will take them away from the ball room the same way I have plans for us both. Do not concern yourself with such trivialities.
-Plans? What plans?
-Curiosity can be a dangerous thing lady Calderu. – Lilia’s glass of wine remined still on her lap, the only thing grounding her from the way your hair cascaded down your back and over the shoulder, falling perfectly against your cheek as the aroma of berries and amber filled her lungs with every breath. Your chest hardly rose, breasts constricted by the corset underneath your gown, but in Lilia’s mind it was simply a reflection of how you were not as affected by her presence as she was by yours, nothing sinister in the way your shoulders remained still even when you were supposed to take breath to speak. The finger that had been playing with her curls instants before travelled down to touch the rim of the glass, removing the lipstick that her plump mouth had left behind with your thumb. - If I was to tell you I fear, you might become… upset.
-If you and your companions don’t have anything to hide, there’s no reason for me to become upset countess. – taking the discussion to her side of the court, you thought. Perhaps the woman sitting in your private chambers wasn’t as weak or oblivious as you had previously thought, Lilia’s gaze locked with yours as she lifted her drink so her lips would be touched by the deep burgundy liquid, exactly where your fingers had smudged her carmine. This wasn’t exactly as you had imagined she would be, after all you liked your women to be mostly submissive, but if they had a little fire in them it posed as a fun game for you to bring them to their knees.
Lilia would look so pretty kneeling at your feet.
-There are many secrets in this castle that would make your blood run cold. If I told what hides in every stone, in every shadow, feeling upset would be the least of your problems.
-Is that supposed to scare me? - If only those doe eyes were paying a little bit more attention to how there was no flow in the veins of your neck or how transparent your skin seemed to be, blue and purple veins visible down your chest and up your arms. Maybe she would have noticed the discrepancies that your exitance brought to this plane of life, and how this whole village and the surrounding territory seemed to be encased in a glass cage, watching as time flew by while everyone remained perfectly still. Asking that question should have made you luift your eyebrows in surprise but instead Lilia was presented with a smirk that made her hands shake, wine swirling like a wind whirl of bad omens about to spill onto her red and gold gown.
-I don’t do or say anything in hopes for anything and I’m not the sort of woman who threatens people. It’s too vulgar to say things and then not do them, so me saying this it’s not in hopes that I’ll scare you but because it’s true. – a certain harshness laced your words, thunder rumbling outside the castle making the candles flicker in horror at the sharpness that seemed to pour out of you. Her breath caught in her lungs when your face moved closer to hers, almost as if you were trying to make a point very clear to her. Lilia did not smell wine on your breath, the gap between you barely there, but an aroma of copper clinging to your lips and for the first time tonight all those bad feelings that had been crawling up her spine transformed into a state of alarm that had her frozen on her seat. -You see the gold, the marble and the endless fortunes that line up every hall and think that everything in my castle is just perfection, a fairytale even, but you’d scream in terror if you saw what lurks in the shadows.
-What hides in the shadows? Monsters? I can assure you that I’ve lived long enough to know who the beasts truly are, and you are not one of them. Or are you trying to prove me wrong?
-Perhaps you are not as naïve as I had previously thought. – was that a compliment? The duality of the woman before her had Lilia confused and yet curiosity was keeping her exactly where you wanted her, demure and perfectly poised even though your whole body was towering over her, the flames casting deep shadows on your face that almost made it look as if you were seeing too different beings inside the same body. Lightning was rushing through the mountains, rain beginning to pour as thunder rolled closer and closer, the tiny droplets hitting the windows with such force that it wouldn’t have surprised Lilia if they had shattered. - Good, you’ll need strength to survive in these cruel lands. Maybe if you make it, you’ll see for yourself what or who I’m referring to.
-You make it sound as if there’s a danger that I can’t fandom following me.
-You are smart, my dear. Danger has been following you since you set foot in this village and has been watching you from the safety darkness provides for the longest time. It has seen you strolling down the forest edge, when you’ve slept, when you’ve drank, when you’ve bathed, hiding until morning came but that is not the case anymore.
-What are you talking about? No one can see into my home, no one has been following me, I would have… - The atmosphere shifted sharply, the perfect balance that had been between you now falling in your favour, power filling your body as something darker, more sinister glazed over your eyes. The person standing in front of her might still have your features and maybe she was wearing your intricate gown but the aura that surrounded you was completely different, and that made Lilia shake in worry. There were so many implications hiding behind your words, each worse than the one before, and as Lilia’s mind tried to understand what you were implying part of her realised that she already knew and there was no chance if running away from you or this place, no escape. Not anymore. - You know who has been doing these things to me. Who is it? Who is this threat you talk about?
-So smart and yet so innocent. Or maybe you just don’t want to see that which lays in front of you. My dear… - hands as cold as ice grabbed her face, the grip firm but not strong enough that it would leave bruises behind, a gasp escaping Lilia’s cherry lips in fear and surprise. The glass slipped from her hand, spilling the burgundy drink all over her golden skirt until with a sharp crash it shattered against the floor, shard flying everywhere, a pool of crimson liquid gathering in between grooves and cracks, spreading at your feet. - I am the danger you speak of, and I am the reason why all the guests downstairs won’t ever see your beautiful face ever again.
-Are you going to kill me?
-I would very much like to not do so. You are an exquisite gem that I want to keep with me for a very long time. Perhaps all eternity, after all neither of us can die.
-You are going to kill everyone else.
-Not me. I’m above such things but my companions must feed, and you are not available to them, so they’ll make do with those poor souls. – Lilia’s head was pushed back until the slender and soft column of her neck became even more apparent and available to you, her throat bobbing as she swallowed, her jugular pumping sweet blood filled with adrenaline. Your sharp gaze forced her eyes to keep looking at you, each word a terrifying truth and a command as you delivered them, nails on the verge of gigging onto her pretty face. - But just because you are in my favour it doesn’t mean that I will not slit your throat if you cross me so do not force me to change my mind and slaughter you right here.
-Who are you? What are you?
-My title you already know my dear. Countess Y/N, owner of these lands since before the earth was earth and the waters run freely between the mountains. As for what I am… - before she even felt it, a single drop of blood had formed on her lower lip, a miniscule slit appearing from where your index finger had sliced her flesh, the perfectly tear shaped bead dangling from the tip of your nail. Lilia watched in fear and amazement as you gathered it on your tongue, humming in delight at every single flavour that swam over your tongue, eyes closing for an instant before they focused once again on her face. This witch you had found was simply magnificent you thought, white teeth peeking from between your lips. Lilia seemed shocked, almost as if the gears in her head had finally begun to turn and, with horror painting her features, everything had at last fallen into place. - I’ve seen endless nights and thunderstorms that lit these forests up in flames over and over. I’ve been witness to death and murders and have bathed in the blood of my enemies and their descendants. I’ve walked through these streets for long enough to have wiped out entire generations that I’ve known since their creation. Don’t you know already, Lady Calderu? Don’t you feel it?
-You are a vampire.
-But not just any vampire. I’m the first one ever born from consecrated ground, alive for centuries, and one that has taken a liking to you. Be thankful to whatever God you pray to that I am smitten by your charming face or you’d dead already.
-What do you intend to do to me?
-I’ll show you, my dear.
The swirl of wine on Lilia’s tongue crashed against the metallic tones that still clung to your lips, proving to the witch that the staining on your carmine was more than what she had been drinking, your nails digging onto her jawline as you brought her mouth to yours. As surprising as the action itself had been, catching her off guard, she found that she could not move, that the feeling of your soft lips on hers was exhilarating and bewitching, the vampire’s curse very real to her in that instant. Her back was pressed against the velvet of the armchair, your body hovering and practically straddling her, but you still had a minimum of decorum, and you had to remember that humans like her were fragile. Pretty little objects made of porcelain that lit up a room with their perfect features and tender, silky voices, but they could crack if handled the wrong way. Though you had to admit that the curiosity to see just how much she could take was a great incentive.
The candles flickered as thunder roared closer, matching the way Lilia’s blood raced through her veins, every heartbeat drilled into your brain, her cherry lips parting to let your tongue through per your silent command. She had so much fire in her, blazing like a thousand suns, and as much as her tongue tried to battle yours, perhaps to get a semblance of control back, she found herself rendered a loser in this battle, submissive, letting your darkness overtake her light. This was wrong, she knew it was wrong, that she should be running from your chambers to make an escape, somehow, but being inside this room, protected by your very powerful hands meant no being hunted by your companions, following endless hallways to dead ends that would bring death upon herself.
As dangerous as she knew you were there was still hope for her survival once dawn came. Lilia understood perfectly well that in this narrative being with you was the better outcome and as your hand released her face, travelling down her sides until they were snaking down the small of her back, she found herself thinking that even if she had the chance to run away, she was quite sure she would not do so. How could she reject you when she had been rendered speechless the moment her eyes had landed on your figure? Perfectly poised as you had been on an armchair at the other side of the room, beneath the giant windows by which trees shook and creaked as the wind picked up. The candles had been caressing your face, glossing over your plump lips, skin as smooth as porcelain, reflecting the flickering of the flames as a cascade of fabric hugged your body, like rivers of blood that flowed from your fingertips down to the marble floors.
You had looked so royal, so mysterious as you drank your wine, and now that she was in your presence, pressed deliciously against you she found herself melting at your touch. Lilia might be the witch, but you had cast a spell on her that she had not seen coming nor fought, and it was just so enchantingly wonderful to have such fresh blood beneath your cold, dead hands. A surprised yelp fell from her lips when she felt her body be lifted from the armchair, your hands pressed against her ass until your fingertips were practically digging onto her skin. It did not matter how many layers of fabric covered Lilia’s body, she could still feel your touch like there was nothing hiding her away. The way the dress wrinkled and gathered over your palms, the way your nails seemed to be slicing the silk like it was butter, sending shivers down Lilia’s spine at the sound.
The rough stone walls dug onto the sensitive skin of her back as you practically slammed her against it, claiming her lips before she could utter a single word, fading against your tongue. Her arms were around your neck to keep herself steady, fingers intertwined with the soft strands of your beautiful hair, gentle curls and waves gathering on her palms. Unlike you Lilia was much more careful, kind in the way her touch traced the back of your neck while you ravaged her mouth, tasting the sweetness of the pastries, she had eaten during the party, the bitter hues of wine mixing in an exquisite cocktail that matched the metallic taste in your mouth. If it repulsed Lilia, you did not know, quiet as she was while her lungs began to beg for air, a need you found superfluous and yet allowed parting from her, blood rushing to her cheeks.
How could you punish this magnificent being to an eternity of death when being alive suited her so well?
The way her breaths came in rushed pants, heart beating so fast that you could nearly hear the flow of blood in her veins and the way it pumped against her ribs, skin flushed a lovely shade of pink. With Lilia trapped between you and the wall, legs wrapped around your hips, you could do almost anything to her and what was stopping you? No one would disturb you and no one would come looking for her. She was at your mercy, and you highly doubted she would deny you when her eyes were dark and lustful and her gaze hungry even though a hint of curiosity and fear still remained. Good, you liked your women to not step out of line. Your hips pressed her even harder against the wall as your hands let go of her, Lilia’s instinct being to wrap herself harder around your body as not to fall, her face inches from yours, peppery curls caressing your cheek as her orange blossom and incense perfume filled your lungs.
Not needing to breath didn’t mean you would not gather every inch of her until she was underneath your skin, her aroma sweet and delicate. Fabric ripped under your hands, the laces of her bodice melting into broken pieces of golden linen that flowed down her back onto the stone floors, her breath hitching in her chest at the feeling of her silky gown being removed. Thunder rolled loudly outside the castle, hiding the gasps Lilia made when you pressed her hot skin against the freezing walls to peel every inch of gold threads off her, throwing it somewhere in the room with very little attention on the clothing and more on the woman you had in your arms. Her skin was as exquisite as you had imagined, smooth and soft and covered in tiny freckles that your fingers traced with fascination, running over her shoulders and collarbones as each breath made her breasts fight the simple but elegant ivory corset she was wearing.
Every trace you made rose goosebumps on her skin, perfectly tiny purple veins visible under her translucent skin, your eyes watching the flow of blood on her pulse point, feeling the pumping oh her arteries on her wrists. Lilia’s eyes were glued to your face, watching the way you were practically feasting on her flesh even though she was barely naked, feeling her whole body rising in temperature at the lust that clouded your gaze. There was an irrational fear creeping up her back each time the flames in the fireplace and candles scattered around the room flickered, casting dark shadows over your face until the sharp and unforgiving glow of lightning broke the stillness in the room. The contrast of darkness and light the atmosphere cast on your face only enhanced your beauty and the danger she knew lay dormant.
But not for long.
An icy breeze crept through every crack making some of the candles go out, rivulets of smoke floating up in the air, engulfing the room in shadows now that only the fireplace and the flickering flames on the table and close to the door remained, the orange glow battling every burst of darkness. It was like you were standing under a sky painted by dusk with night inching closer and closer. The smile that appeared on your lips was as sensual as it was terrifying, pearly white teeth creeping between your lips and as Lilia’s grip on your shoulders hardened to steady her fearful heart, your fangs grew and elongated before her very eyes until the once normal smirk changed into something straight out of a nightmare. The danger was very real, icy beneath her palms, and the line between life and death was becoming so thin between Lilia’s fingers.
-You… you said you were not going to kill me.
-I said that I hoped you wouldn’t force me to, my dear. You think I’m going to drain you until there’s nothing left? – your soft but cold breath tickled her ear as you pressed yourself closer to her, lips barely touching the soft and fragile skin of her neck, words laced with power and lust as you whispered. - Are you scared of me?
-I… I don’t know.
-Trust me my sweet Lilia. If I wanted you dead, you would be already.
A scream sharp as a dagger tore from her chest the instant your fangs pierced the skin between her neck and shoulder, ripping the delicate flesh until scolding blood began to pour into your mouth, thunder roaring outside like beasts feasting on a carcass. The pain was overwhelming and burnt like hot irons were being pressed over her body but soon it turned into more of a mild discomfort, as if she was becoming numb to the horror being inflicted upon her, vision cloudy and head spinning. You on the other hand were getting high on the sweet taste of her, on the way the sparks of her magic traced your tongue as the coppery liquid gathered in your mouth, salty and slightly spicy. The tinges of her mature body laying in oceans of passion with strangers whose faces never revealed themselves to you sent a wave of possessiveness throughout your body, hands digging onto her forearm and hips.
Virgin blood was pure, tasteless in many ways, your preference for ladies who knew the sins of the flesh far more exciting on your tongue, but to have Lilia’s blood tainted by mere mortals who did not deserve her or her powers had her digging her teeth in deeper. Marking her in a primeval way that only you could understand, washing away the hands of disgusting pigs that only deserved death. If you could make her blood clean, yours for all eternity you had to make sure the only hands that touched her were your own, removing the invisible fingerprints those rotten monsters had left on her. Using her, claiming her when they had no right. Every single person that had danced with her tonight would be dead by morning, your ears picking up the slaughter that was staining her marble floors downstairs, but that did not make your fury vanish. Who were the real monsters, you or them?
Lilia felt the rise in your anger, the grip you had on her bruising her body while the pain shot once again throughout her neck and arm, spreading fast and making her gasp for air. As the rain fell hard against the windows you forced yourself to stop drinking from her, pulling away from her skin to see the wounds dripping crimson, hot liquid over porcelain flesh. It seemed to match the trickles of blood that were sliding down the corners of your mouth and under your chin, falling drop by drop on top of Lilia’s cleavage. Watching disappear between her breasts was signal enough that the time for fooling around was over. You had been needing her from the moment she had stepped into the room and playing games was not really something you desired at the moment. Chasing her through hallways and the dungeons underneath the castle had to be left for another time.
The imprint of the stone was visible on Lilia’s back as you held onto her ass once again and walked over to your bed, a magnificent piece with four deep oak posts and red velvet curtains that matched the bedding, the warm air clashing with the chill the wall had left on her skin. Though she did not have the time to think about it before you were throwing her over the covers, one of Lilia’s shoes sliding of her foot and landing over the rug with a quiet thud. The storm outside only seemed to worsen with each passing second, thunder and lightning fighting in between the dark clouds, roaring so loudly that it seemed as if the mountains were about to collapse. Trees slammed against windows, rain trying to get through the crack and damp spots.
And there you stood by the side of the bed, hair messy and free from the very few pins that had been holding a few strands back, long curls framing your face as it glowed under the light of the fireplace. Your pale features contrasted with the blood trickling down your face, teeth stained red as you smiled, your hands making quick work of your gown until it laid on the floor in a pool of purple fabric. The short chemise under your corset and the matching bloomers were so thin and full of lace that just the sight had Lilia squirming under her big skirt, a growing dampness between her thighs. Seeing the way your nails snapped the lace and every single knot that kept the crinoline around your waist was like watching a surgeon performing a live saving operation.
Your eyes never left Lilia’s form as your hands, still as steel, moved around in precise movements. Her whole upper body was supported by her elbows pressed against the mattress, breasts constricted by the way she was half laying half sitting, the skin of her chest wrinkling slightly, fingers holding onto the covers. One would expect the witch to be slightly flushed and perhaps a bit out of breath but the perfectly regal posture she had had before was now barely a memory, her curls escaping their confinements, her lipstick smudged and her neck beginning to bruise around the punctures, blood flowing in thin rivers that travelled down her upper arm and her chest, meeting the drops that had fallen from your mouth.
At last, she was where you wanted her. With each step you took, your heels falling in quiet thuds over the rug, you came closer and closer to touching her once again, making her yours and leaving your fingerprints all over her flesh. Thoughts swirled in her head, a tornado of anticipation, fear and fascination blending behind her eyes, her gaze unable to stray from your form, not even when your hands brushed the golden fabric of her skirt until your fingertips could touch her corset. Tracing the waistline of her gown you hooked it with your index finger, pulling hard and fast until it ripped under your ministrations. The gasp that escaped Lilia sounded slightly disappointed, as if you destroying her dress upset her to a certain extent, so you made a mental note to have your seamstress fix it in the morning. Her being sad or even angry wouldn’t last; you’d make Lilia forget about it soon enough.
Lilia’s body was pulled down while you tried to remove her dress and crinoline in one go, expert hands managing to slide it down her legs until it was pooling around her feet, dangling as they were from the edge of the bed. Could you have been gentler? Probably. Did you wish to remove it inch by inch until your fingers ached from undoing her laces? Not at this moment. Though your roughness and need to see her in her bloomers and corset didn’t mean you couldn’t be kind or gentle. Knee length stockings hid part of her legs from your sight, something you were not particularly happy with, and so tender fingers grabbed the white cotton from the tip of her toes and began to pull, creamy skin exposed to your sight slowly, as if you were unveiling a painting, a new artwork for your castle.
This back and forth between a certain level of kindness and then pushing her around kept Lilia confused and trying to guess your next move but she seemed unable to see what was to come, as if her magic had been rendered useless. Knowing that even if she tried her magic would betray her and refuse to hurt you or help her get away made her felt bare under your lustful gaze, voices in the back of her head whispering that this should not be happening. But if it was wrong why were the elements and fate keeping her here with you? As your hands began to travel up her calves and thighs Lilia realised that she indeed wanted to be here, that there had been plenty of opportunities for her to vanish without a trace and she still she had remained within your reach.
-Has anyone told you just how exquisite you are my dear?
-Sometimes.
-Not enough is what I hear. – your knee made the mattress dip slightly around her left hip, your body pressed softly against her side, one hand resting next to her to keep your body weight of Lilia while the other pushed a random strand off her face. – You are such a beautiful little thing. A rough diamond that I plan on dressing in golds and silvers.
-I don’t need that.
-My dear, it’s not a matter of what you need but what I want to give. And I want to give you much more than anyone else has ever done.
The world, the universe, your soul if you had one and your blood if it flowed in your empty veins.
With tender fingers you turned her head slightly to meet you, thumb on her chin, pushing her head back enough that your lips ghosted over hers for an instant before claiming them. This kiss was slower, more loving and nearly kind, your teeth biting softly on her lower lip as her arms grew weak and her whole body collapsed fully over the covers. You were just too drunk on her taste, unable to grow tired of it, only wanting more and more and if your sense of smell wasn’t tricking you, which you highly doubted, she very much wanted you to taste her somewhere else too.
Her hair held a citrusy aroma that you suspected was the orange blossoms you had been noticing since you had brought her to your chambers, but the way her skin held onto a soft vanilla perfume was an unexpected touch that paired beautifully with your own. Your fingers journeyed down her neck without breaking the kiss, tasting the carmine on her lips while your hand left fiery trails on her skin, over her shoulders and over the top of her breasts, brushing her flesh with the back of your nails. The sensations were delicious, soft and caring but also powerful in ways that Lilia’s mind could not quite comprehend, as if your touch and kisses were suddenly a million hands caressing her body and claiming her lips.
Her tongue battled against yours almost as if she actually wanted to take control but when the hand that was pressed against the mattress snaked over to her face, interlacing your fingers with the curls sprawled over the covers, her resolve vanished. Melted like the chocolate that had been poured over the desserts during the party, hot and sweet, still lingering in the back of Lilia’s mouth that your tongue could taste the moment she surrendered herself to you. Quiet gasps echoed inside your mouth when your hands toyed with the lace of her corset, mapping the neckline as her lungs began to scream for air and the movements of her hands became more frantic.
Much to your dismay you had to part from her lips, swollen and red, but letting her breath, gulping oxygen like she had been diving deep in the ocean for an eternity, didn’t mean you had to stop exploring her. Your mouth left a trail of soft kisses on her jawline and neck, moving from her left side to the right, lapping at the puncture wounds to collect as much blood as you could, the sounds shrinking ever so slightly. Lilia felt the discomfort diminish at your action even if she could not see what you had done, not that she could think about it for long when your lips were pursing and latching onto her pulse point, sucking so hard she thought her skin would break and every ounce of blood in her body would spill into your mouth, but it never happened.
As much as your nature begged for you to bite down and kill her you had already mastered the control needed to enjoy a glass of crimson liquid without consequences. Continuing your journey down over her collarbones and what was accessible of her breasts you soon grew bored of having garments hiding her away, the places where your lips had abused her soft skin now glowing an angry shade of red under the soft glow of the candles and the harsh beams of lightning that enfolded the castle. It needed to come off, and patience was not something you engaged in when such a gorgeous thing was laying in your bed. Sitting back until your ass rested on the heel of your feet your hands held onto the neckline to undo the front hooks, Lilia’s eyes watching your precise movements with curiosity.
She could feel your nails brushing the skin underneath the garment, so close to her nipples that it sent shivers down her spine but remained focused and worked diligently on undressing her. Each hook slid off easily, allowing your eyes to feast on the skin that was becoming exposed. The valley between her breasts, her upper abdomen… Just as you were about to undo the last one your brain realised that the chemise she had been wearing was gone, boning pressed against her curves, and with a questioning look your gaze travelled to her face. A smirk painted her abused lips, her wrist moving slowly as tendrils of gold danced between her fingers for a moment before vanishing.
-You are not the only one who knows tricks.
-Is that so. Glad to know that we are on the same page, my dear. Though you might come to regret it when morning comes.
-Then don’t make me regret it.
So that’s where the fire you had seen burning behind her eyes was. Peeking from the depths of her mind as the fear vanished and lust began to take a hold of her. The storm outside hid the horrific screams that echoes through the dungeons and hallways, corpses laying over the cold marble floors as blood was splattered onto walls and mirrors, this morbid dance between your guests and companions reflecting only the fate of those whose life was about to end, wind whirls of gowns brushing and smearing the crimson hot liquid all over. Death roamed the halls with slow steps, picking up souls while life soared high in your arms, warm and gasping at your touch. Maybe if Lilia proved herself to you one day you’d let her command you, but not tonight.
Tonight was yours to do as you pleased.
With practiced ease the last hook came undone, releasing her body from that tight contraption, your hands pulling it swiftly from underneath her and throwing it somewhere across the room. Each movement earned you a gasp or a whimper from her, sweet music that delighted your senses and fed your starving ego. After all, not many had earned the right to be in your bed in the last decade or so. Her plump breasts leaned softly to the sides now that they were free, rising and falling with each breath Lilia took and your mouth wasted no time, rushing to lay your lips on her warm skin while your hands did quick work of her bloomers, the fabric ripping slightly around the waistband in your hurry to remove them from her.
Every noise she made was ambrosia on your lips, gasps and whimpers turning into quiet moans and pants when your mouth sucked on her sensitive skin and claimed her nipples with harsh movements. Your teeth scraped the pink buds hard, fangs so sharp they nearly drew blood but in truth you never broke skin, drinking in the way her hands held onto the covers and her throat let every sound imaginable escape her. And what a delicious thing she was, sweet and intoxicating, just like her perfume, warm under your cold hands that sent shivers down her spine with each touch.
Thunder roared and rain sliced through the air, falling hard against the pine trees that surrounded the castle, but the cold air didn’t seem to be able to slip through any cracks into the room, the atmosphere charged and heated. It would have been nearly suffocating if your fingers didn’t leave trails of ice with every caress, brushing the sides of Lilia’s ribcage with a tenderness that nearly surprised you, used to using force and power to take what you wanted. But Lilia was such a well-behaved little witch, seductive in the way her hands intertwined with your hair and moans fell from her plump lips like the first rains after a drought. Deadly but needed.
When her grip began to sting your scalp you lifted your body, sitting on top of her thighs, straddling her, watching in delight the way her naked figure seemed to bathe in the warm light of each candle, the flames of the fireplace reflecting on Lilia’s deep eyes like they were the doors to Heaven and Hell, every inch of her simply exquisite, begging to be touched. And you were more than happy to oblige. Sliding your hands over her abdomen, just under her breasts her pulse practically vibrated underneath your palms, blood pumping hard and fast through her veins, making your mouth water at the thought of tasting her again. With sharp and quick movements Lilia found her whole body being pushed higher onto the bed, the headboard inches from the top of her head.
A surprised yelp had left her throat before she had even realised what was going on but she was rendered quiet when she saw you kneeling at the foot of the bed with your fingers tracing patterns on the hooks of your corset. You had been in charge of every single situation, of every movement, maybe even every breath Lilia had taken today and seeing you like this, undressing before her she was sure you were asserting your power once again. Lilia had been stripped relatively quickly and by someone else’s touch, you on the other hand were being deliberately slow, taking your sweet time with each clasp, making Lilia’s heartbeat race even more. Anticipation and arousal floated in the air and gathered on your skin like snowflakes falling from dark clouds up above, never dying over your cold flesh the instant they laid on your body.
If there was a clock in the room Lilia would have loved to be able to hear the ticking of the handles instead of her own pulse in her ears, the sharp droplets of rain crashing against the windows, wind howling though a little voice in the witches head wondered if they were the voices of the other guests, souls ripped from their bodies, lives ended in cruel games that didn’t dare cross the threshold into the room. And so, with each burst of wind that hid screams in the dark night your hands released your body from your corset, satin and whale boning falling to the ground with a quiet thud, the thin chemise that kept your frame hidden from her eyes meeting the rest of your clothes on the floor.
At last, you were both on the same line. Partially at least, your perky breasts bouncing ever so slightly with each movement you made as Lilia’s eyes watched with a dry mouth but dripping lips. You had yet to decide if she had earned the right to remove your bloomers or if you’d do it, your palms pressed against her thighs, your kisses returning to her warm flesh like a starving animal seeking its first meal after weeks of nothing but glimpses of your prey.
Not a moment had passed since she had arrived in town that you had not desired to find out what was hidden behind all those soft smiles and heavy cloaks.
Following the shape of her sternum, her heart vibrating against your lips, your deepest desires had finally come true, and with grace and confidence you had swept Lilia off her feet and carried her in your arms away from all the death and misery that had surrounded her in the ball room. A saviour of sorts, taking her earthly body dressed in translucent silks through stone hallways while your bare feet bathed in the blood of all those souls you despised, her skin porcelain white, your lips dripping crimson tears onto your gown. Every inch of her was sweet, like the most delicious caramel one could find, a hint of saltiness coating her flesh as adrenaline and arousal filled her every cell.
Every whimper and every gasp that escaped Lilia’s throat was nearly drowned by the storm outside but your acute hearing could pick every sound she made, the ticking of clocks out in the hallway, the cracking of the fireplace almost as much as you could calculate the speed at which blood flowed through her veins. Not that your brain was thinking of such superfluous matters. Her body responded to your touch like a well-behaved pet, squirming and moaning when your fangs scratched the sensitive skin of her abdomen, shivers making her skin rise in goosebumps when your hands squeezed and nails dug onto her hips. Lilia nearly hoped for them to slice through her skin and bring pain into her mind once again so she would not drown in pleasure and lose herself but as your lips continued their journey down her body, she began to doubt she could ever come back from this.
Pain or no pain there was no escape. Not anymore.
The moment your kisses reached her pubis the grip she had had on the covers made her knuckles turn white; breath hitched in her lungs in anticipation. The pads of your fingers traced the shape of her outer thighs and ass, allowing you to settle between her legs as she parted them without having to be told. Perhaps it was the fact that she needed you, but you chose to believe that she was following orders without actually having to utter a single word, her gaze cloudy though she tried to keep it on you and your actions. A roaring thunder split the skies, its strength making the flickering candles shake in fear and admiration, the room flooded with a sharp light that reflected off Lilia’s flesh like a mix of diamonds and amethysts, swimming all over her.
For being an eternal being patience was not your forte, trying hard as you were to take in every inch of her, but how could you keep yourself in line when she at last she was bare before your eyes, dripping with want from her pink folds? You just couldn’t. Hooking your left arm under her thigh you pressed the palm of your hand against her hipbone, using very little of the strength you possessed to keep her in place, lips leaving featherlight kisses on the soft skin of her inner thigh. Inch by inch you were getting closer and closer to where she needed you, pussy glistening with an arousal that your nose had picked up nearly the moment you had slammed her against the wall, though it was even more delicious now that it was so close, nearly overwhelming your senses.
Without warning the most animalistic part of you took over, hunger hitting you as if you had been struck by lightning. You had not even realised how instead of kissing her your mouth had opened and your fangs had began to slice through her flesh until warm blood was already pooling on your tongue, metallic and so delicious that you could have almost stayed there forever, drinking her in, listening to the raspy scream that ripped from Lilia’s throat at the sudden wave of hot pain that had washed over her. A little voice in her head nearly scolded her from having wished for pain, but it vanished in an instant when everything turned into pleasure and her whole body responded to your touch with pathetic whimpers and quiet words begging you to take her, to touch her and have her.
Lilia’s walls had crumbled and were laying at her feet, her very soul yearning for you.
That exquisite mix of lust and pain had Lilia’s head swimming, clinging to the bed like it was the only thing keeping her grounded and alive. In her head every thought seemed to be running in circles, trying to escape from being eaten alive by your hungry hands, by your sharp fangs that wounded her and had her delirious. Her blood filled your mouth with her delicious essence, coppery and intoxicating and if it hadn’t been for that well practiced control, you would have carried on for ages, sucking in every drop of her until she withered and sunk onto the covers like worm parchment, spells forgotten, eyes blank, void of life.
Drinking until your mind became dizzy you forced yourself to pull away, thin tendrils of crimson liquid running down her inner thigh until they began to gather on the bedding, turning what had once been a stain into a puddle. These wounds had rougher edges, the skin around them turning purple already, but you didn’t give it much thought, not when she was completely exposed, pink folds wet, dripping down onto the bed, so welcoming. With your index and middle finger, you traced them gently, feasting on the sound of her grunts and pants, hips battling with your grip as if she could actually move, as if you’d let her, her arousal gathering on your skin.
Lifting yourself ever so slightly your gaze locked with hers, pupils dilated in such a way that you could no longer make out the deep oak colour of her irises, only black, and with deliberate slow motions you showed her your glistening fingers before taking them in your mouth. A moan of delight vibrated from your chest at the mix of her blood and her salty juices, a drug you knew would be impossible to get away from, your tongue swirling around your fingertips until they were perfectly clean. Lilia’s heart was hammering against her ribs at the sight, a gush of juices dripping down her thighs, the pain no longer existent in her mind.
Retuning to your place between her legs your tongue made a long lap over her folds, the taste of her even better now that you could drown in her, that you could breathe her in and nearly swallow her whole, air an unnecessary accessory in your life. One hand shot from the covers to your hair, gripping until a slight sting spread over your scalp, Lilia’s eyes fluttering between open and closed, unable to chose what she wanted. She could hardly breath, let alone know what it was she desired, every thought either vanishing in a puff of smoke, or flying around in a whirlwind, matching the leaves and branches that slammed against the castle walls and threatened to shatter windows.
The way your tongue tasted her and played with her folds had every sensation in the book claiming her body, sending shivers up her spine like electric shocks that travelled down to her fingers and toes. Her walls were already clenching around nothing, your tongue exploring her slowly, mapping and drinking every drop of arousal her dripping pussy kept on gushing, high on her reactions and flavour. Even though your lungs never craved breath you filled them with the metallic aroma of her blood, dry as it was around her neck but fresh and exceptional on her inner thigh, sliding down her soft flesh like a rosary of crimson beads that your lips prayed over.
Moving upwards Lilia’s whole body tensed when she felt your mouth on her clit, wrapping around it and sucking lightly, testing the waters almost. Exactly as you had expected it her hips tried to buckle against your face but your grip on her hip had her trapped against the mattress, a deep rumbling moan mixed with a pathetic whine falling from her lips. It throbbed against your tongue and moved when you flicked it up and down, twirling her swollen bud in circles sending sharp waves of pleasure all over her body, that coil of fire unravelling in her abdomen.
-Please, don’t stop.
-Hmm? – the rumbling of your voice as you hummed had Lilia lulling her head back, toes curling against the edge of the bed, thighs quivering slightly. With a wet pop her clit was released, your eyes looking over her pubic bone while licking your lips. – Feels good, doesn’t it? To have your wet pussy eaten like this, or maybe you’d like to have my fingers inside you.
-Divine mother.
-Tell me, Lilia. Tell me what you want.
-Take me, please. Do with me whatever you desire.
Thunder crashed above the castle making the windows rattle, your fingers parting her folds and pushing two of them inside her, hot velvet engulfing them and clenching hard as her moans drifted between high pitched noises and deep, primeval sounds. They were far more delightful than the screams that your ears could pick up in the distance, horrific and frightening, at least to those witness the slaughter in the dungeons and the games that rushed through hallways that confused and turned their steps into a maze. Being with Lilia was much more fun than anything those poor souls could ever grant you.
Claiming her clit between your lips once again had her thrusting and shaking as much as your strong hand would allow her. At first the movement of your fingers was gentle, slow, taking your sweet time to feel every ridge inside her, curling the tips every so slightly so you could hit that spot, that delightful spot that could render her speechless in an instant. Watching every reaction, she had from your spot you noticed the fluttering of her eyelids as she fought between keeping them open and closing them, the twitching of her limbs, feeling her fingers scratching your scalp as she got closer and closer.
But of course, it wasn’t enough.
The speed of your fingers became faster, motions harsher, almost brutal as your knuckles slammed against her pelvis, your lips sucking so hard Lilia could no longer moan but cry out, throat sore and raw. Not even the thunder could hide her voice anymore. Her brain tried to form words, tried to tell you to keep going, that she was close, but it seemed that every time a thought tried to form it vanished in a tsunami of pleasure. Her walls began to clench hard around you, forcing you to fuck her even harder and faster, her whole body jerking upwards and trembling as white heat spread throughout her body, the edge right there, within her reach.
-Yes! YES! I’m going to…
The word died in her mouth as your teeth scraped her clit and her whole world shattered into a million pieces. Silence enfolded her for an instant, her frame floating in the air like a feather, weightless, but the next second fireworks exploded around her, burning her flesh with the most exquisite flames she could have imagined, melting her into a puddle of sensations. She felt like she could fly, like she could dive to the deepest parts of the ocean and climb the highest mountain until her fingertips touched the sky.
Outside lightning and thunder roared and sliced through clouds, the electricity coursing Lilia’s body matching the energy that was floating through the harsh winds. The sound that had ripped from her chest had been loud, high and yet felt guttural, something that you had never heard before but hoped to for as long as Lilia remained in your bed. Her thighs were squishing your head, the grip you had on her hips lessening, allowing her body to arch off the bed and pull your hair while your tongue and fingers kept going, not slowing down yet.
If in your cold heart you had been greedy and impatient you would have carried on without too much concern for Lilia’s well-being, making her cum until her body collapsed and she laid unconscious on your bed, but there was a kindness a certain when it came to her that made you listen to every queue her body was willing to give. Her walls clenched around hard making your thrusts nearly impossible and as she came down from her high, back pressed against the covers while her legs quivered and released you. In all honesty being suffocated by her gushing cunt and wounded thighs, if dead were an option, which thankfully it had never been.
Slowly her whole frame released you, fingers and tongue slowing down until your movements ceased completely, watching in wonder at her flushed skin as you swallowed the juices she had desperately poured over your face, the cool touch of your hands against her thighs a welcoming feeling, the temperature inside her like that of a volcano. Gentle kisses rose lazy goosebumps on her skin, travelling down to the puncture marks you had delivered earlier on her inner thigh, a cool breath ghosting over the injuries while your tongue traced them softly, what little blood was yet trickling down swept up and swallowed.
-You did so well my dear. Much better than what I had expected. – the punctures faded before your eyes until only bruises and slight red marks were left behind, your fingertips caressing the once injured flesh before crawling over her body to meet her eyes.
-Were you expecting me to fail at pleasing you?
-Not really. – her gaze was glossy, the afterglow painted on her face as if Da Vinci had done it himself, meticulously adding blush to her cheeks, her plump lips the perfect shade of pink. The index finger that had been inside her instants ago touched her lower lip softly, eyes darting between her mouth and her eyes. - The moment I saw you I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me, and that you should take as a compliment.
-What made you think I wouldn’t?
-Your regal posture, your watchful gaze, the way you kept away from everyone almost as if they had no right to be in your presence. – there was a reason why the wound on her neck had not fully healed, why you had refused to let it fade, and one day you hoped that if she parted ways with you it would serve as a reminder of what you had shared, of the fleeting moments that had once seemed distant now between your hands. And I very much agree. Had I known you’d come to my party dressed in gold ready to be claimed I would have told everyone to vanish.
-Isn’t that what your companions are doing? Removing them from your home, from existence? – the shadows of terror and fear that had once shone behind her eyes had faded into ether, the questions that once upon a time would have made her shiver and would have had her mind reeling with dark thoughts now falling from her lips with such normalcy that it surprised you.
-Do not concern with such things my dear. The night is young and, in these parts, dawn takes an exceptionally long time to peek through the mountains. There is no rush.
-Will I see what they have done to them when the sun finally shines up above?
-No. You don’t know where my guests are nor what’s happening to them and you will never do, so please stop asking about them. Your fate will be freedom soon enough; you will not meet the cold hand of Death upon yours.
-If you are this kind perhaps, I will not wish for freedom so quickly.
-Do not make such wishes Lilia. – whispering against her lips she was the one to claim them this time, your mouth pressed gently against her as she tasted herself on your tongue, salty with those metallic tones of blood that she had never felt against her palate. -They might come true.
♡ 𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: In which Avis is Carol and you are Therese...
You work as a shop assistant at I. Magnin's and happen to have a run-in with a VIP-costumer: Avis Amberg. You couldn't have known you'd be spending Christmas Eve with her.
♡ 𝔀𝓬: ~ 6.5 k
♡ 𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓼: SFW, christmas tree, avis is short and it's cute, fluff, Carol (2015) inspired, mild hurt/comfort, flirting, cussing, smoking, alcohol consumption
♡ 𝓐/𝓝: Here's my Secret Santa fic for @aggieharkness 🫶 Merry early Christmas! 🎄
━━━━━ 𝓐𝓸3 I dividers by @cafekitsune I thank you @sanguibus for beta reading <3
December 24th, 1946
It was like a flood rolling in. As soon as dawn broke on Christmas Eve, the matrons of Los Angeles' high society streamed into the I. Magnin & Co. department store on Wilshire Boulevard, Beverly Hills, threatening to sweep you away from your refuge and confinement behind the counter. The festive season was always a drag in customer service, a stressful, endless hassle amidst wreaths, baubles, and candy canes, but the bonus was sizeable enough to be unrefusable for a woman in your position and with your extravagant tastes.
The river of intricately styled heads and fresh blow outs split around the gigantic Christmas tree in the centre of the first floor and dispersed to look at the mannequins and glass cabinets displaying the most expensive articles that would make for a passable last minute gift. The other shop assistants sat their catches down on the loveseats and cushioned chairs scattered across the shop floor for some personal attention and persuasion. Yet you remained rigid at the cash register, pretending to count change until the first sale would come to leave their money with you.
You wrapped up a few, buying lavish hats and diamond earrings and silk scarfs, and saw them on their way with the toothiest smile you could muster in hopes of a tip, wishing them a "Merry Christmas" and not once receiving it in return. Your feet hurt from standing around for hours, you were in need of a coffee, and you had a chipped nail with no way of accessing the file in your locker downstairs. You thought your day couldn't get any worse—but then she walked in.
Her mere appearance gave you pause.
A small woman, exceptionally dressed in a burgundy dress and fur coat that had collected a dust-layer of snowflakes, who made heads turn in whichever direction she breathed. Apart from her fierce brown eyes it was her nose that stood out to you; prominent, curved, fashionable in its own right. Your eyes met the moment she passed the Christmas tree. She shifted her stride straight towards you, one heeled foot in front of the other as if on a runway; effortless grace, measured flamboyance.
Before she even reached the counter, she narrowed her eyes, said, "You," and beckoned with a crooked finger. "You look like you've got nothing to do. Come with me."
"Ma'am, I'm not allowed to leave—"
"Ah, poppycock," she interrupted, grabbed your wrist and pulled you from behind the counter.
"Ma'am!" you protested.
The woman stopped abruptly, making you bump against her, and, with a tight-lipped smile, asked, "Honey, do you know who I am?"
"I—um…?" You felt like she was mocking you, your head was empty as if struggling to comprehend what your eyes couldn't get enough of. Her lips, wide and so red glossy; her eyes gleaming with unrelenting passion—she rolled them—her brows arched, sceptical, testing.
"When a woman becomes a wife she becomes invisible to the world," she scoffed, then cocked her head. "Ever heard of Ace Amberg?"
"The head of Ace Studios? Of course, Ma'am."
"Well, I'm his wife," she said with the hint of a threat in the lightness of her voice. "We own this town, for all intents and purposes. So—are you coming?"
Summary: Lilia has never been too fond of Halloween as her past was full of horrible things that kept her from breaking free from her bubble, but with you in her life maybe she could begin to live a little and let herself experience that which she thought was never hers to enjoy.
Warnings: magic, Halloween, metions of blood and injuries (they are just comments, not actual threats) bondage, spanking, Dom/Sub, power play, smut (+18), swearing, oral (Lilia receiving), fingering (Lilia receiving), oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), squirting, mommy kink, degrading kink, pet names, tit play, overstimulation and edging, fishnets, strap ons... (if anything need to be added do tell me)
Author's note: It's been a while but I promised that I was working on it and here you have the Halloween Lilia fic. There's a lot of smut because i kept coming up with stuff and had a situation that kept from writing for so long. I hope that you all like it and as always, tell me if I need to be more graphic, if I'm lacking in something... I accept ideas and suggestions that you might have. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's thank Patti Lupone for giving us Lilia Calderu, and Jac for writing her so beautifully.
Shoutout to @bravewithacapitalb for being my beta reader and @p2pecleanerwitheyes for helping with certain things in the fic
Word count: 26K (failed attempt at making it short)
The sweetness of a poisoned apple
If she didn’t hurry the hell up, you’d be home before she was done, and her surprise would go out the window, which she’d be really pissed about after all the hard work she had put into this for you. She had been thinking about it for a couple of years now and she would have done it earlier if Agatha and the munchkins hadn’t knocked on her door to take a stroll down the witches road, something one usually does every weekend of course, because the prospect of kicking the bucket is exactly what one wants to do for a girls night, and after coping with the trauma of almost being turned into a kebab (her own choice, she knew that, but no less traumatising) she had finally went ahead and done it.
You’d been trying to get her to enjoy Halloween for so long now, maybe decades, and Lilia was proud to say that she had warmed up to many traditions she had abandoned due to time and men, like the Wheel of the Year, celebrating Samhain and Yule amongst other seasonal festivals, some of them with a Christian touch due to her Sicilian heritage that was heavily influence by that religion, but Halloween itself had been at the bottom of the list. She knew its origin of course, and she understood the principle, but the patriarchy and capitalism had made such a joke of it in the last century or so that, along with the witch hunts, once she moved to the US, Lilia had refused to even acknowledge its existence.
That was, of course, until you came into her life and her vision of the world began to broaden and move past the pain and traditional roles people had tried to push onto her. Things had started a year or so after you two had met, when you came to her small apartment with bags full of candy and chocolates to give out and Lilia had looked at you like you had grown three heads.
Why would you engage in such a holiday that showed witches as horrible beings that had green skin and ate children while cursing people left and right? You had seen in her eyes the offence, the way she was wondering if she was truly viewed like that, as a monster that would curse whole generations for fun, and upon gazing at her perfect face, doe eyes staring at you like a deer caught in headlights while her hands held onto her gown, knuckles turning white, you realised that maybe such an innocent holiday wasn’t so innocent for her.
That night she had explained everything she could remember about the hunts making emphasis on how different things had been between Europe and the US, how the old continent would drown or burn at the stake on very few occasions. How in almost every colony she went to in the US there would be a death per day for months on end, about how friends had left without a trace in hopes of not getting caught, of loved ones that were brutally murdered before her eyes, watching as decades went by and a pagan holiday that was supposed to welcome harvest season had turned into a parody of a minority, which had moved from being chased and executed to being portrayed as either sluts or dangerous beings.
That night you had sat, listened and understood that after 450 years Lilia had every right to be angry and disappointed at the world, but she was too sweet, too caring to become bitter and she needed to see that she wasn’t stuck back in Sicily having visions of death anymore, that no one was chasing her and men no longer had power over her head, though you highly doubted she was one to be pushed around by a dick with eyes, and so you decided on doing the most childlike thing ever and watched “Halloween Town” with her for the very first time to show her that not everyone would view her as anything but kind-hearted Lilia if she went out into the world as the witch she was, who just happened to have a gift that she cherished and yet struggled with.
Seeing her practically glued to the screen reflecting on hundreds of years of oppression and taboos as Debbie Reynolds greeted werewolves, goblins and trolls, normalcy absolutely overrated when you were a cool a witch as Lilia was, every preconceived notions she had had about Halloween shattered in between her fingers and opened a door that had only creaked wider and wider, making her realise that deep within her trauma there was still light, happy things that she had once loved now at the grasp of her fingertips once again, as if they had never left.
From then on getting her to enjoy certain things around Halloween had become easier and easier though she still thought that capitalism had poisoned it beyond salvation, but she understood that for little kids it caused no harm, it was the adults she was sort of pissed at even now. Horror films turned out to be her favourite genre, especially the Warren films after meeting Rio and witnessing a ghost or two in her lifetime, which just so happens that allowed her to see the truth and the relative lies or dramatics behind it all. Truth be told, and you’d never find out about this or you’d tease her about it until the end of days, Lilia enjoyed spending those nights cuddled up with you, holding you until a jump-scare would make you hide your face on her chest, laughter ringing out from in between her rosy lips as a human being levitated or vomited blood on the screen of her old, static telly.
By now she knew the classics like “Hocus Pocus”, which much to her own surprise she loved and you would find her humming “I put a spell on you” while she cleaned or cooked, sometimes even while you two had been renovating the new house, painting and ripping carpets. “Practical Magic” and “Scooby Doo” had followed as well as all the Disney specials because she had turned out to be a huge Disney fan and loved to sway in her nightgown at the sound of “This is love” from Cinderella when sleep still hadn’t come to her by midnight, your arms around her waist while the clocked ticked away and the stars shone bright amongst a peaceful ocean of silver and love, no fairy Godmother’s or pumpkin carriages waiting. You had even caught her singing “Sweet mockingbird” while working in the garden as she attended to her lilies and morning glories, dawn breaking through the horizon in golden hues and tender clouds of pink.
The next step had been decorations, which she warmed up to pretty fast when you explained to her that most of her stuff she could actually have out and about without worrying about people commenting on everything, a stupid trait for stupid people. Crystals, tarot cards, reading tables and many many more things now had some sort of cohesive pattern with all the things you laid out and glued around the house, or at least you tried to make it all make sense but putting a Mickey mummy next to a four century old set of tea leaves Lilia used to use back when she was young in Sicily was a bit of an effort. Thankfully your wife was a good sport and moved her own things around to tell a story, her story for anyone who cared to listen or simply see.
Jen and Agatha were the first ones to pick up on the pattern, observing the way certain crystals laid out in a circle around the statue of a ghost with a pumpkin or the way flowers and spices filled glass jars with words written in Italian across the front of them, names perfectly carved onto candles with dried plumeria petals. Sharon was simply oblivious while Alice asked Jen in hushed tones. Rio didn’t need to figure anything out or ask questions, after all she had been there, in the shadows, every minute of Lilia’s life and knew exactly where everything came from and the meaning behind it, aside from holidays or magic, smelling the rosemary and orange blossom leaves she kept in a tiny box her Maestra had gifted her, burning in between the incense. Of course, you hadn’t wanted the festivity to be sad or too serious, and your homemade arts and crafts that were glued to windows and walls helped Lilia learn to embrace the funny and stupid part of the holiday; the best part in your opinion. All this translated into baking as well.
While she had gotten her surprise ready for you Lilia had checked on the pumpkin pie she had in the oven, fighting with her eyeshadow palette and eyeliner, the cinnamon rolls with caramel apple syrup she had baked after you had left for work already cooling down on a rack on the counter. This bit was her favourite indeed. Dammit, she was Sicilian, cooking was in her blood as much as magic coursed through her veins; she would not be the first Sicilian that didn’t at least make one perfect, flavourful dish, per day. She genuinely thought her Maestra would hit her with a frying pan if she was still alive and saw her living off takeaway and precooked meals when Lilia was perfectly capable of making delicious food. Plus, the fact that she was damn good and enjoyed it immensely now that she didn’t have to be at her shop all day every day to earn a buck or two.
Jennifer had been kind enough to connect her to better paid jobs that allowed her to have an extremely flexible schedule and paid far more, allowing her to actually have visions and premonitions instead of having to lie to her customers and push her heritage and power away. You had introduced her to the world of cookie cutters and pie pans that came in every shape and form but Lilia had refined the recipes until they were near perfection and purchased even more crazy things that you would have never thought of, like food colourings in neon shades and huge blocks of different types of chocolates that were imported from her hometown. Her favourite thing: Nutella brownies with bright green gooey chocolate in the middle in the shape of a witch’s cauldron (it was a myth really and Lilia had made very sure to explain to you that no witch really worked with such items; not anymore).
From her vanity Lilia lifted her gaze towards the clock on the wall, the open window next to her letting a gentle, warm breeze float into the bedroom making the linen curtains sway softly, a robin or two chirping happily on the windowsill. It was getting close to seven so you’d be arriving home in no time, or you should if traffic allowed it, but the wait made her heart slam against her ribs, hands shaking slightly as she finished up her makeup. Ever since your alarm had gone off that morning, Lilia had been on the verge of hysterics or a panic attack, depending on the moment, unsure whether what she was doing was appropriate or even right for today, and as much as she wanted to forget about it all and act like it would be just another day she knew you’d be beyond excited when you saw her and she couldn’t help but imagine your smile, eyes sparkling in the warm bedroom light at the sight, and that single image was enough to make her carry on.
Getting the fishnets on had been one hell of a struggle, her toes getting stuck on the holes more times than she could count but she persevered and dressed up exactly as she had been planning for months, her legs the centre of attention under the skirt. They were one of your weaknesses and Lilia knew and planned certain things around that little bit of information, and this time it was mostly so you’d be rendered speechless once or twice throughout the night. Yeah, she could zip you up with a flick of her wrist, but it was much more fun to see you blushing and babbling like an idiot when she lifted her leg or pretended to adjust her shoe like the innocent little witch she pretended to be.
The reflection that met her in the mirror had long black lashes that fluttered each time she blinked, deep doe eyes framed in smoky greys and blacks, lips glistening a deep burgundy under the golden light that crept from the windows as the brush finished applying the gloss. Curls framed her face in perfect rivulets; the rest piled in an orderly manner on top of her head in a mass of greys and brunette strands that suited her bone structure and sun kissed skin and contrasted with the shade that she was wearing. Before she could inspect her outfit once again the sound of keys turning reached her ears, the door creaking open after a minute in which Lilia stood and grabbed a thick golden cape from on top of her duvet, the soft velvet caressing her palms.
Your footsteps mixed with hers, heels echoing against the walls as you headed to the living room to drop your bag and Lilia wrapped herself in her cape and came to stand at the top of the stairs, the hood hiding her face in gentle shadows that would not frighten you but make curiosity peak inside your chest. Her name fell from your lips as easy as breathing, calling her while the sweet aroma of pumpkin spice and cinnamon mixed in the air and filled your lungs, your vampire make up a bit worse for wear but still good, your outfit comfortable yet cute as not to draw to much attention at the museum, the long white dress surprisingly without a stain, your figure hugged by a deep red corset that seemed to suit the bride of Dracula vibe you had been going for, although now you could lift the tits and make them stand out if you so desired (no children under your supervision anymore).
-Lils? Are you in the kitchen? I have to show you these pics I took of these little kids that came to visit the exhibition today. Oh my God, there was this ghost and this pumpkin that will melt your heart. – your eyes were glued to the screen of your phone, fingers sliding down the gallery in search of the aforementioned pictures but as you walked past the stairs a figure came into your peripheral vision forcing you to stop in your tracks. There she stood, wrapped in silk and velvet the shade of molten gold, embroidered patterns in deeper shades showing off the typical Sicilian heritage you had learnt so much about, the fabric clean but clearly worn and loved yet in great condition but what your eyes were locked in wasn’t the cap, it was the face that hid in the shadows. – Lilia?
A foot peeked from under the cape dressed in delicate black heels that tied around her ankle with deep red soles, the sight of her calves in nothing but fishnets up to her knee, the cape not allowing anything else to be seen, sent your heart into overdrive, hammering against your ribs. She was deliberately slow walking down the stairs, details on the shoes like velvet roses telling you that they were new and probably very expensive but, in your opinion, totally worth it. The closer she got to you the better you could see that her fish nets were made out of small diamonds, a thick, black line running from her Achilles tendon, up her calf and behind her knee until you couldn’t follow it anymore, mouth dry and mind racing wondering what was underneath, if anything was underneath.
Maybe you shouldn’t be dressed as a vampire and instead a s poor virginal maiden that was being bewitched by this powerful and gorgeous sorcerer, your personal space invaded by a deep and rich zagara perfume, like orange blossoms that hid sweet vanilla and amber tones, comforting smells that she carried on her skin and clothes, the shadows no longer able to hide those chocolate eyes from you, wide and full of a sparkling magic that you both could feel in the air, like static.
-Li… Lilia?
-Yes, doll? – her hand slid from under her cape to caress your cheek, her skin warm against yours, the sun casting rainbows on her lips and soft pinks on the apples of her cheeks, glittery sparkles gathered on her perfect curls as if she had been bathed in fairy dust, voice as sweet and thick as honey, low and as sexy as you had ever heard. Your eyes just couldn’t take enough of her, from the way her eyes caught the light to the way her body was painted with freckles that travelled down her neck, where a black choker with a perfect ruby resting in the middle contrasted beautifully with her skin.
-I’m home.
-I see that, darling. Nice day at work my beloved blood sucker?
-Yeah, ye… yeah. That’s gorgeous, Lils. Where did you get it?
-This old thing? It was made for me when I was young, before I left home. I thought it might like to see the light of day after four hundred years.
-Great decision, indeed.
-But it’s not the cape that I wanted to show you. – her fingers traced the shape of her sun brooch, teasing you, making you hold your breath, but she didn’t unclasp it, simply walked past you towards the kitchen, speaking over her shoulder as her eyes locked with yours. If you hadn’t glued the fangs on that morning, they would have fallen out of your mouth by now with the way you were gaping at her. - Would you like some coffee?
Coffee? She was asking about coffee when she looked as if she had just popped out of Cinderella?! You were waiting for her to pull a wand out and turn a pumpkin into a carriage not to hand you a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll. With clumsy steps you followed her just in time to see her pulling the hood down and letting you see the pearls and sparkles that had been pinned to her curls, perfectly coiled around the nape of her neck as her hands skilfully prepared a caramel macchiato for you. The room filled up with smell of salted caramel for a moment before being overtaken by the bitter but delicious aroma of freshly made coffee from Lilia’s trusty moka, deep liquid pouring from the column and you, like an idiot, just stood there, observing, as if Lilia hadn’t done this very action a thousand times before.
There was just something utterly enchanting about her, her movements, her soft sighs, the way the sun glided off her face and over her shoulders like hands of a goddess that followed the shape of her nose and lips and traced the column of her neck with her fingertips. Slowly your brain was beginning to function, moving a little past her looks onto the question of why she was wearing that, what had made her dive into her closet and pull out such a unique and gorgeous piece, and of course the main question: what the hell did she want to show you if it wasn’t the cape?!
Pouring your drink into one of your glass mugs Lilia wrapped up her work in just a few minutes, turning to see you sitting at the kitchen table looking up at her like she held every answer in the universe, curiosity behind your eyes. It didn’t take a genius to know what you wanted, and Lilia knew perfectly well that she was dragging it deliciously and had you wrapped around her finger, her gentle hands placing your coffee before you with a sneaky wink. You thought she was trying to build up the tension but in truth the poor woman was nervous as hell and unsure if you would like your surprise and part of her was really focusing on that fear, making her drag it all out, although you didn’t seem to be annoyed or frustrated at her antics.
Eyes followed every step she took, the movement of her hands over delicate porcelain as she poured herself some tea, the amber liquid steaming up in perfect coils against her rosy cheeks, the sound of the oven and the clicking of the timer filling up the room blending the comfortable silence that had settled around you. Would she wait until you drank your coffee to show you whatever it was, she was hiding? That seemed a logical thought, so you began to chug it down, ice clinking against the fake fangs, caramel and chocolate soothing the bitter taste of the coffee but enhancing the smoky flavour of the blend Lilia usually bought, and yet she went about her actions slowly, like there was no rush at all, two spoonful of sugar dissolving into her tea with the help of the swaying of the spoon, her nails painted turquoise. That detail had only just clicked in your brain, your eyes following her hands as she had lifted the cup from the counter towards her mouth, her body turning until the small of her back was resting against the edge and she was facing you once again.
-Did you have a nice day, darling? I asked you before, but you didn’t answer.
-Sorry, I was paying attention. I had a wonderful day. The kids were really well behaved, and they loved the little trick or treating we did.
-That’s great. Did your colleagues like your costume?
-They actually did. I think they were expecting me to be covered in fake blood, but we had little kids coming in, I didn’t want to scare them, and you would kill me if I stained anything in the house.
-That I would. You have to send a picture to the group chat or Alice will hate you for centuries to come. She loved the idea when you first suggested it, and I won’t have my sweet girl upset because of you.
-I won’t piss off your honorary daughter, don’t worry. I’ll take a selfie or ask someone to take a picture when I go around the block to do some trick or treating. Before our movie marathon.
-About that. – the clinking of the cup as Lilia put it back on its saucer echoed for a moment, Lilia’s heart racing in her chest, hands shaking on her lap underneath the cape so you wouldn’t see. – What would you say if we went together this year?
-Together? Like actually trick or treating around the neighbourhood?
-Yes, I believe that’s what you do on Halloween and what you’ve been trying to get me to do with you since the dawn of time. Well guess what, you have that chance today.
-Are you serious?! – the glass mug nearly tipped over the edge of the table as you pushed the chair away, standing so fast your vision became black for a second or two but it was unimportant, the excitement you felt was like fireworks going off inside your body making your fingertips tingle and your heart nearly escape your chest. Lilia didn’t have time to push you away before you were hugging her and holding onto her forearms as you bounced on the spot, her frame shaking with the force with which you were hopping. Lilia would never get tired of the sight of you so full of joy, so happy at the smallest things and so excited to share them with her. – Oh my God, yes! Oh, we can go with two matching pumpkin bags, and we’ll get double the amount of candy!! You are going to love the Kehirs and the Tullys. They have full size chocolate bars and little alcohol bottles that you can collect. They are awesome. And we can check out the costumes the kids wear and see Sharon’s grandkids and help them get the good stuff!! This is going to be so fucking cool, Lils!
-One step at a time, darling. – melodious laughter fell from her burgundy lips, her head tilting back just a little but at no point did her eyes stary from your face, your beautiful and joyful face that warm her heart and made her feel cozy and fuzzy inside. – We can do all those things, just give me some time to get to know the tradition.
-Of course, of course. Whatever you need. Oh! We have to get you a costume! Something nice but sexy, or maybe cute. A princess? A ghost? Maybe you can go as a jazz singer or…
-Y/N, I’ve already taken care of that. Why do you think I have this cape on?
-Sometimes you wear clothes from centuries ago, I thought maybe it was one of those days, though it was kinda strange when you said that wasn’t what you wanted to show me. It’s your costume what’s underneath?
-No, the scarecrow in the garden is wearing my costume. Of course it’s underneath you scemo. But you don’t get to see it yet.
-Why?
-Because it’s a surprise and I’m not showing it yet. Be patient, doll, you’ll see it soon, I promise.
-How soon is soon? -Lilia’s left brown rose in a way that said “don’t ask anymore questions” but the twinkle in her eyes and the gentle tugging of the corners of her lips told you that she wasn’t being as stern as she could, actually more playful than anything else. Tenderly she removed your hands from her forearms to walk over to the table, only a few drops of coffee left amongst the melting ice, but that didn’t deter you from following her while mumbling about the plan you had had for the evening and telling her all about the modifications you’d do so Lilia would have all the fun in the world. – Okay, okay. I have matching bags upstairs, I’ll go to the bathroom and pull them out of the closet, and you tell me if you like them, but I’m sure you will.
-We can use a basket as well.
-No, no, if we are doing this, we are doing it right and that means going all out. Pumpkin bags, a proper route, you name it. I’ll be right back!
Even with the heels you were wearing you slid out of the kitchen, dress flowing around your legs as if a hurricane had burst through the front door at the speed with which you were rushing towards the staircase and two by two you leaped up to the second floor. Left behind Lilia watched you with an amused smirk, your joy refreshing even after being with you for so long. Seeing you like this was like seeing a little kid seeing snow for the first time, its flakes swaying slowly in the air reflecting light in pastel rainbows as they fell from pearly white clouds, your hands extended to welcome the icy cold on your palms.
There was just so inherently pure in you always finding happiness from the smallest things and Lilia hoped you would never ever lose that gift because it made you a most unique human and she loved that part of you more than she loved anything in her life. Walking slowly around the kitchen she cleared up your mug by pouring the ice onto the sink and putting it in the dishwasher, her cup of tea floating from the saucer to where she stood as Lilia moved her left fingers lazily without looking, already a pro at this domestic use of her magic.
Loud footsteps echoed from upstairs as you moved around but it was overshadowed by the sharp ringing of the oven letting Lilia know that her pumpkin pie was done. The cape folded neatly at her feet as she bent to open the door, the smell of cinnamon and vanilla hitting her along with a wave of heat that made her turn her head away for a second so her eyes wouldn’t practically melt and with mittens the shade of deep green pulled the pie out and onto the stove, the crust a perfect golden colour and the filling a most delicious amber shade.
Expert hands made perfect pastries, and your taste buds could vouch for that but this one in particular was out of bounds until Lilia said so and that would probably be a couple of hours minimum, until you returned from trick or treating. You still couldn’t believe it. Lilia was coming with you for the first time ever and she had even dressed up!! After finishing your business in the bathroom you found yourself rummaging inside the closet, pushing boots and boxes out of the way until you found a left over plastic container where random bits and bobs had been placed after decorating and at the bottom, because this things are always at the bottom somehow, were two lovely bags in the shape of pumpkins with the words “Ain’t she like a witch” in one of them while the other had “Bewitched by her zils, baby”. Internal jokes that only Lilia would understand.
With the goods in hand, you rushed out of the bedroom and back downstairs without putting anything away, which you knew would piss Lilia off, but it was a risk you were willing to take. Midway your heels stumbled a little on the carpet making you lose your balance for a second and slide down two stairs before you grabbed onto the banister but apart from the beat your heart had skipped, you carried on as if you hadn’t just almost died one of the most boring deaths ever and headed for the kitchen. Lilia might be small and cute but she wasn’t so tiny you’d lose her in between the kitchen chairs or behind a curtain, so either you had missed her in the hallway or she had to be in the living room because she wouldn’t just vanish (she could do it but to be honest she was too lazy to do that, too much of a passenger princess).
Still panting and with your heart trying to keep up with the rush of adrenaline and the pumping of blood all over your body, you managed to walk to the living room only to find her perfectly poised on her favourite armchair next to the window overlooking the garden. Her cup of tea was levitating lazily next to her, a silver spoon steering the amber liquid slowly, the hem of a skirt or petticoat peeking from where the cape had opened up as she had sat, white linen peppered with small plumeria and honey lilies embroidered in gold as silver primrose petals and fig and olive leaves seemed to float down the fabric, as if they were falling from high up branches, carried by tender breezes during summer.
You had never seen anything in her closet with those colours or shapes and it made you wonder if she had had her costume made specifically for today or if she had been hiding a dress from another time and only just decided to pull it out from the shadows; either way you could not wait for the reveal. Standing behind the couch you showed her the bags which received a smile and a motion for you to get closer so she could inspect them, but she made no attempt to keep drinking her tea and you weren’t sure if you could wait until she was done with her cup.
Hell, you’d down the whole thing in one gulp if it got you closer to seeing what on Earth she was wearing! The fabric of the bags was softer than Lilia had expected for what looked to be a tote and it wasn’t small enough that only a couple of sweets would fit but not too big either; she didn’t want to seem overbearing or anxious for things that children would enjoy more than her, or that at least were meant for them. The quotes on the front, right beneath the pumpkins made her chuckle softly, an approving smile breaking on her burgundy lips, the sight making your heart skip a bit as you clasped your hands excitedly, like you could burst from joy.
-When did you make this?
-Oh… I think a year ago or so. There was an offer at the museum for some extra bags that came with a bonus we got after the holidays, and I asked for this in case one day we actually went trick or treating. I just didn’t think it would be today. Do you like them?
-They are lovely, amore. When were you planning on leaving? Before I joined, I mean. – swaying softly the cup travelled down to her hands, red marks imprinted on the porcelain rim as she took a sip, steam still floating like branches that caressed her cheeks, doe eyes watching you through thick eyelashes.
-In ten minutes more or less. We can leave right now though! We’ve got the bags, and we are all dressed up, we don’t have to wait.
-What about my tea? – the amber liquid vanished from the cup, but not as fast as you would have wanted it, and Lilia was really pushing this game of making you wait when you wanted to go out and have fun with her and show her off and see her costume and get candy and just have fun! It was taking every ounce of control not to take the damn thing and drink it yourself, so with shaky hands and a strained smile you tried to convince her.
-Is it necessary? I mean you can heat it up later, we have a brand-new microwave and magic. Do you reeeeeeally need to have it right now?
-Why not? The houses will still be there in ten minutes, won’t they?
-Please Lilia! – your knees hit the carpet with a thud, the weight pulling your dress down ever so slightly, the satin of the skirt pooling around you like a sea of pure snow that wrapped around your skin, your hair falling in waves down your back in contrast with the gown and your red lips while you clasped your hands against your chest, nails longs and sharp and voice pleading like a child who begs for ice cream. - I want to go! I want to see your costume! Can we go, pretty please? Pleeeeease? – when you looked at her like an innocent girl Lilia just couldn’t deny you a thing. With a swift sway of her wrist the cup flew towards the coffee table and laid to rest over the worn wood, Lilia bending until her face was barely a few inches from yours, her hand under your chin lifting your head so she could look at you better, at your plump lips and sharp fangs that peaked ever so slightly from your mouth, your chest rising and fallen under your corset in hurried breaths, soft looks of hair threatening to slide of your shoulder if you moved even a bit.
-So well behaved. Maybe I have taught you well after all. – bloody red and burgundy carmines were so close to mixing that you could count the spots in Lilia’s irises, but the kiss was barely feather light and left you wondering if you really wanted to go out or to stay in and see what she had underneath the costume, the taste of vanilla a ghostly flavour on your lips. – I’ll drink it later, since you asked so nicely. Up, doll, show me how you mortals’ trick or treat.
With the grace of a swan Lilia slid to the edge of her armchair and stood, towering before you for an instant before you scattered to your feet nearly stumbling on the hem of your dress but managed to push yourself up with the help of her, hands held out for you to grab that made the cold spot under your chin vanish as her warmth bathed your body once again, a suggestive shadow passing through her eyes as she locked eyes with you before her mask of innocence fell once again. If someone looked through the window they would see an innocent divination witch who looked as if she had never done anything even remotely dark or naughty, but you knew better and it sent a shiver down your spine just how fast she could switch between someone who could keep you from walking for two days and a sweet little angel of pure thoughts and soul that could practically walk on water.
She might actually be able to walk on water, you thought, watching as she began to walk around the couch and out into the hallway with your hand still in hers, following like a lovesick puppy. You barely had time to gran your bat shaped purse, where both your phone and Lilia had mysteriously appeared, before you were crossing the front door, windows shutting upstairs without any help, the beautiful maple trees and magnolias you had in the garden swaying softly at the warm breeze that danced around them making them look like they were sighing happily as the sun began to set over the horizon.
Lilia let go of your hand so she could lock the door, giving you the chance to put you bag over your head so no one would be able to pull it and steal it while out, your steps slow but secure as you adjusted the strap while walking down the paved path. With your attention elsewhere for a moment Lilia was able to drop her mask a little and close her eyes, breathing deeply to steady her racing heart before you turned around and locked eyes with her. It was now or never, she thought, and with slightly shaky hands finally pushed her cape open, the velvety fabric draping over her shoulders delicately, revealing dozens of perfectly detailed constellations embroidered into the golden lining, tarot cards that anyone could recognise as part of Lilia’s personal set scattered in silver.
The ruffling of her clothes caught your attention, your body twisting to look at her while your feet still remained on the same spot, and it was as if time had stood still, the breeze that had been dancing between branches freezing around you, butterflies flying in slow motion above Lilia’s head as gentle rays of sunshine painted her face, making her glow, eyes widening as her outfit was finally revealed to you. Every inch of her body was dressed in dark turquoise satin, exquisite and elegant golden embellishments perfectly placed around her skirt and corset, as if they had been strategically stitched there for a purpose.
At first glance the dress resembled a 1700s hundreds gown, with gentle ruffles on the fitted sleeves and the hem of the robe, her torso laced up by a corset where the golden embroideries resembled that of a blooming branch of plumerias, Lilia’s breasts nearly spilling from the low cut neckline though she didn’t seem bothered by it, quite the opposite. In these clothes Lilia seemed comfortable, as if in between every stitch and ever flower a joyful, loving memory resided, as if the white stomacher and skirt told a story of innocence and fun in gardens with never ending rows of trees and fountains while the robe that wrapped around her told stories of summer nights walking by the river bend in the English countryside amongst morning glories and magnolias, the flowers always shining in gold while the trees swam around the deep but tender waves of turquoise rivers and lakes in silver, Lilia’s history preserved in fabrics instead of books, reflecting tales that only the small butterflies that flew in between petals could tell.
Every single detail, every thread was cohesive and guided you to moments that Lilia had never told you about, and for an instant you could almost see her wearing this exact gown while strolling through Sicily’s streets without worry or care, the aroma of saltwater drifting through the air, tiny invisible crystals growing in between each thread, attaching to her very soul. It was clear that this dress had lived in different places and in both Lilia had found love and comfort and instead of letting the memories fade as time went by, she had decided to capture it all hoping that one day someone would be able to read her story the way she had intended back then. Stitch by stich, flower by flower.
Your fingers ached to follow the neckline of her robe, feeling the satin against your skin, to place your palms against her forearms and slide them down the sleeves until you could gather the ruffles around her elbows in between each finger, her warmth seeping through the gown. Without even realising you were moving you found yourself taking slow but sure steps towards her, hands reaching out but you did not take her hands this time, you rested your palms around her waist, gathering her heat and the coolness of the fabric on your flesh, feeling the boning of her corset and the embroideries which a different texture to the rest of the dress.
The panniers under her gown made the skirt of the robe have more volume but it didn’t make her look like a caricature or as if she was drowning in her gown, everything had been measured down to the smallest detail enhancing her every curve, making her sun kissed skin contrast beautifully with the colours, like foam forming on the crest of a wave before it crashes out against the sand, causing ripples on the surface and the fine sea bottom, each unique and alive for mere minutes.
Lilia was that sea, temperamental and strong but also calm and caring, bringing life when the world only thought she could see death, but never brief and always one of a kind. Clouds of floral aromas caressed your skin and filled your lungs, fabrics holding onto fragrances, comforting for Lilia and a welcome touch for you, but you could still smell Lilia’s vanilla and amber perfume witch hints of incense, the pearls and sparkles she had pinned onto her curls shinning as if a fairy Godmother had turned her raggedy dress into this beautiful ballgown, ready to fall in love with you without clocks or evil stepsisters.
-Do you like it? – there was a hint of doubt in her voice, words stumbling a little as she spoke them, her eyes glancing between your face and where your hands were holding onto her waist, her breaths slightly more hurried than she would have liked.
-Like it? It’s magnificent Lils. I have never seen something so beautiful, and it makes you look like a princess.
-This is what a witch wears in 1749, though I was a countess back then, so close enough. I think still might be, not sure. But that’s off topic. You think this counts as a costume? I didn’t want to engage in the sexualization of witches and wear something slutty because that’s not what we wear on a daily basis, but I understand that the concept of trick or treating is dressing up.
-It’s perfect. You just do some magic here and there, like fireworks or stuff like that and everyone will know you are a witch and not Marie Antoinette.
-I actually thought of something for that. – of course she would, Lilia always had something planned. With a quick snap of her fingers small will-o'-the-wisps sparked around the two of you, growing diligently until they became like floating flames that danced like nymphs under a waterfall, agile and graceful, never dimming and unable to vanish unless Lilia commanded so, guides for the lost and lights that pushed away the darkness in hues of green, purple, orange, pink, blue and gold. The blue flame approached your cheek, curious like a young child discovering the world around them, it’s warmth and energy crackling in the air but it never burnt your skin. The purple and green flames circled each other almost as if they were chasing one another but never touched, the orange and pink floating like companions leaving a trail of peach coloured dust as the golden one overlooked them all, a sentinel of ancient knowledge and power with a nurturing aura. – Nice touch don’t you think? The wisps can do whatever they want as long as they keep close to us to guide us, though they won’t do much of that, and I’m pretty sure Antoinette couldn’t do this, so win-win. And they look cute which is a plus.
-This is awesome. I have the hottest and most beautiful wife who thinks of everything. We are going to get all the full-size chocolate bars for certain. – suddenly she placed her hands on top of yours, moving closer to you until you could feel her hot breath on your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Her voice carried a low and sultry tone and Lilia made sure to speak at a calculated speed to make sure her words and meaning were clear in your hazy mind.
-And maybe if you are a good vampire, you can get something better than full-size chocolates when we are done. This dress has a surprise I added just for you, and you might earn it tonight.
That was definitely better than any candy you could get tonight, like infinitely better. To have Lilia strip naked, straddling you with her curls still pined back and decorated with pearls, heavy breasts pressed against your chest, maybe even bouncing as she rode you, the sounds she was capable of making ringing in your ears; screams, moans, grunts, your name falling from her lips, lipstick smudged making her mask of perfection dressed in satin fall apart. Just to imagine her with a thin layer of sweat with her gown crumpled on the floor made your body temperature rise a degree or two, goosebumps rising all over your skin, mouth dry and hands sweaty where they were digging into Lilia’s waist but the witch didn’t seem bothered, not when she knew the effect she had on you and the things that were running through your mind.
That pretty brain of yours was so predictable after all this years, dirty and creative, and Lilia took the chance to lean into your body and press herself until no air was left between the two of you, no personal space, only perfumes mixing like vanilla and raspberries on top of a cake, her corset allowing you to feel how her bosom was practically fighting to escape the garment with each breath Lilia took. You could not move, you could not think, getting drunk on every inch of her, and she was still fully dressed, legs trembling slightly as her hands traced the shape of your jawline and collarbones.
How could you not believe that witches could enchant people when you were sure Lilia had bewitched you and had you at her mercy? You’d die for her, kill for her (either way, what bliss), worship the air she breathed and kissed the floors she walked on, ripping your heart and giving it to the Divine mother if she asked, slaughtering enemies with your bare hands to protect her until the skin blistered and broke against the sharp blade of love, her eyes granting you salvation from war and her handkerchief used to clean the blood of those who had wronged her, gone and buried under your triumph. You would have walked down the witch’s road magicless and without help if she asked, unafraid of failure because your reward wouldn’t be power or treasures, it would be her.
Everything for her and because of her, without question or doubt. Her lips caressed your cheek in phantom touches until your mouth was barely millimetres away from hers, breathing in the earl grey that still lingered on her tongue and thankfully this time you were not left begging in silence to feel her, her burgundy carmine mixing perfectly with your red as she kissed you tenderly, the pads of her fingertips holding your jaw in place with a soft grip, after all she didn’t need to use force to keep you exactly where she wanted you. She was delicious, so sweet and intoxicating that made your body lean against hers ever so slightly, but it was too brief, so very brief that in less than a few seconds Lilia had parted from you, leaving you standing over the stone path like a pine tree, licking your lips so her taste would linger for a bit longer.
-Cat got your tongue, doll? Don’t worry, I’ll have plenty to give to you later, when I rip that dress off.
Divine Mother and every other deity in the universe, how could someone who looked so sweet, who was so nurturing and angelic, think and say such filthy things and work you up with barely a touch? Maybe being alive for 450 years had allowed her to refine her flirting game so that with a gentle scratching of her turquoise nails on your cheeks and lips and the seductive way with which she swayed her hips as she walked down the stone path, the space between you growing larger since you were still frozen on the spot, she could have you begging her to do things that would be condemned by the Church and probably several Governments. Still, she said later, and as much your desire was trying to take a hold of you, you had been waiting too damn long to go Trick or treating with Lilia; sex could happen anytime anywhere, Halloween was only once a year and waiting always meant that very good things were coming. You would be, for sure.
Looking over her shoulder, eyes blinking so slowly her eyelashes were saying softly, hiding her perfect chocolate gaze, she waited for an instant until you seemed to be able to move once again, spell lifted but not broken, and began taking clumsy steps towards her, the hem of her dress brushing the leaves on the ground almost tenderly as it was moved by the breeze. As soon as you had reached her, the sun casting shadows between the tree branches until fairies were dancing reflected on the ground in between rays of gold and pink, Lilia lost no time and took your hand in hers, her right one free and holding one of the bags you had given her.
The road was empty, only the sounds of dogs barking in the distance and birds chirping echoing in the air, floating invisibly all over, a world parallel to yours that your eyes could not see and yet it was still there. Sometimes you wondered if Lilia could see things that you couldn’t, like magic drifting as currents, perhaps warm to the touch if she stretched her fingertips to grab them.
She could see people’s auras, it wouldn’t surprise you if she could see time passing by, rewinding and rushing into the future all around her like threads of power and life that began in amongst tender lullabies and kisses, cradled by the Divine Mother, while others ended sharply with fear and torment or blended softly into nothing with words of love and sadness. You always thought that she could see things that no one else could, souls behind hard shells, longings in eyes that were only witnesses to darkness, words that were begging to fall from one’s lips.
It wasn’t so much a hunch but the way that she spoke about things that weren’t there as if you could actually touch them, premonitions without having visions that somehow fell in place like a puzzle exactly as she had said, no mistakes or errors ever gracing her lips. Sometimes you feared Lilia was living in a world parallel to yours. But not today. Today she was here, fully here, her mind calm and relaxed and her magic lazily tracing your veins like tired snakes that are looking for a warm spot to settle in, her steps secure but never rushing. She wanted to enjoy this as much as you, perhaps even more, and running from house to house just wouldn’t be cutting it when the weather was welcoming and the air that floated all over East View was leisureing in between the trees.
The main street was only a couple of minutes from your home, and although some of the houses on your road were decorated and had signs that made it known they would be giving out candy you wanted Lilia to see the sea of kids and parents shouting and laughing and arguing about what candy to eat before it was taken away. The magical part of Halloween was having fun and being a kid for once, something you knew she hadn’t experienced in a while, and it just wasn’t fair. Lilia gave so much to the world everyday and in return she got scraps and silence or used to.
While you were here, married to her, you would give her the universe on a silver platter. Turning around the corner, the sound of laughter and music playing from Bluetooth speakers reached your ears, carried by the breeze along with the smell of candy apples and pumpkin pies, a perfect mix with the aroma of a crisp chill and the falling leaves. It was the perfect Autumn fragrance; recognisable but nearly impossible to describe. And it suited Lilia as if she had been made to stroll down gravel paths with maple leaves crunching under her delicate feet, the dress she was wearing brushing the ground while her cape get her warm from the cold wind while sunlight tried its best to warm up the skies, an infinite sea of baby blue above her head and in her hands a perfect pink rose.
Walking on pavement wasn’t as whimsical as gravel on a forest next to a quiet meadow, but as much as you wanted Lilia to have everything she had ever wanted, she was in fact happiest like this, doing anything with you, cleaning anything with you, simply being with you. Call it minimalistic if you wanted, but Lilia was happy with very little as long as you were in the package.
A door slammed closed across the road making you both jump ever so slightly, Lilia’s head turning fast to see a little girl dressed in a lovely orange dress and a black witches hat rushing down the front stairs talking a thousand miles a minute about her friends waiting for her while her mother, dressed as Velma from Scooby Doo, tried to keep up with her little torpedo, two plastic pumpkins in each hand. Lilia observed the girl for a moment, standing still over the pavement.
There were no warts or green skin, no evil smirks of crooked noses, just a lovely little thing dressed in something she liked with no evil connotations (or fake ass broomsticks) and inside her chest a small bubble of love and hope suddenly formed, her breath hitching in her throat. Had she never paid enough attention to the world around her? Had she been so caught up in her own pain and trauma that had never been witness to the joy of a little girl pretending to be a witch? There was not an ounce of malice in that young thing, and her mother never uttered a word to make her act evil or heartless, just told her not to lose the hat she had made her, sparkles and moons all over the black fabric. Maybe Lilia had underestimated the vision part of the world had of them, maybe…
The girl turned her head out of the blue and her emerald green eyes locked on Lilia and her floating fires and you could almost see the wears in the young things head turning as she connected the dots, eyes widening and her hand shooting to point at her, practically yelling at her mother that the lady across the road was a witch! The older woman turned to look and the grip Lilia had on your hand hardened, her heart skipping a beat as she waited to be reprimanded or cursed, but that never happened.
The girl smiled excitedly and so did her mother, a tiny hand waiving at Lilia as if she was the Queen of England, and with shaky breath she returned the wave, the wisps above her head dancing happily and moving as if they were saying hello as well. She hadn’t uttered a word or taken a single step, but that girl would be talking about this for days with her friends. What she didn’t know was that she had given Lilia hope, a feeling she hadn’t felt in a really long time; hope that at last a witch like her would not have to hide, afraid of what others would do or say.
With a swift snapping of her fingers the sparkles on the girl’s dress began to move, like glitter swimming in a glass of water, the moon on her hat shining as it shifted between each phase gently. The girl showed her mum excitedly, the older woman smiling at Lilia, smiling and not growling or insulting, smiling. In an instant she had made this young’s thing entire year and so the girl began to run down the street screaming about how she had to tell her friend Marlin, her mother chasing after her after mouthing a simple thank you, and as much as they were words they meant so much more to Lilia. A single tear fell from where it had been balancing for an instant on her lower lashes, sliding softly over the apple of her cheek, the feeling of tears wishing to overwhelm her and break free making her shake on her spot. A gift from a witch to a witch.
-Are you okay? – the silence had been deafening in your ears, but you could feel the anxiety and then relief flooding your veins as her magic tensed up all around her, like an armour and weapon ready to protect but now it laid stunned, still in your veins, electric in your hand. The soft tone and quiet words you spoke washed over her like morning dew, blinking away tears as a small smile crept from the corners of Lilia’s mouth.
-Yes. I’m quite alright. In fact, better than alright. – it was surprising with which strength she spoke when she felt as if she was shaking in her heels, about ready to flop on the ground. Slowly she turned around to face you, her hand squeezing yours tenderly. She felt light as air, like she could levitate and never come down from her high, the crushing weight of a world who had never been on her side lifting and vanishing at last, freeing her. Never in a million years had she thought a little girl could do her so much good, a kind smile with no fear and twinkling eyes healing a wound that had been bleeding for so long. – I think I’m liking this holiday already.
-I’m glad you do, Lils. And you’ll love it even more in a minute, I’m positive. Come on.
She let you pull her down the street, her heart racing with excitement, her steps hurried now but she didn’t care. She wanted to see, she wanted to find out for herself what people truly thought of her kind, to see children freely having fun and getting high on glucose as if tomorrow they didn’t have to go to school, to live without worry amongst everyone else while being herself. Perhaps she was levitating slightly, the soles of her heels barely brushing the rough pavement, but you couldn’t care less, her heart soaring and her limbs light as feathers. Reaching the end of the street the music floated louder around the two of you, kids running while teenagers posed and took selfies for Instagram, a couple walking past you with two candy apples.
Lilia was definitely going to get a sugar rush before nine with all this food around cause she had a sweet tooth and could polish anything with chocolate in the house in less than an hour after you brought it in; giving her a bag full of treats was like allowing her to roam free in a Belgian chocolate factory without a time limit, though you would have a glucose hungover adult to take care of by morning, not Willy Wonka. The roads were closed in this part of town to allow people to move around and jump from house to house so there was no worry about cars driving past you, only kids and tired parents who wished they could be at home flopped on the couch for at least five minutes.
You knew the basics of the game: knock on the door, say the magic words and boom, candy and alcohol for a month, but you wondered if Lilia actually knew this as well. She should after all the films you had watched on Halloween but seeing it and living it were two very different things and with all the people before you, she could get easily overwhelmed.
-What house do we go to first? I vote for the one with the skeleton mowing the lawn but if you want to go to the pumpkin patch one, I don’t mind. You are the master of Halloween Y/N, I trust your judgment.
-Uhhhh… Skeleton mowing it is. – okay, maybe you had been worried about absolutely nothing. If Lilia could go through the Witches Road and an entire weekend with Agatha camping out at Yosemite (Rio’s fault, that nature freak just loves to piss Agatha off with hippy stuff like that) she could definitely survive trick or treating. Lilia adjusted her bust and smoothed her skirt before heading towards the house, her bag ready in her hands while you trotted behind her.
-Showtime, baby. - there were towers of plastic pumpkins on the sides of the stone path and plenty of cauldrons bubbling with spiders crawling up the front of the house, a big wooden sign hanging from the porch that said, “Knock if you dare”. Funny thing knocking when there was a doorbell with a ring camera next to the door that when Lilia pressed it seemed to work perfectly, a shrill sound echoing at the other side along with hurried steps. In less than two minutes a woman dressed as the corpse bride opened the door, a smile on her blue lips and a bowl of candy in her hands, her husband behind her in a Herman Munster costume.
-Oh, hello!
-Hi. No, wait. Trick or treat! – the sun shone bright over the horizon, pink and purples splattered above the blue canvas above but not even the golden hour could outshine Lilia’s smile, the excitement making her hands shake as she fought to push her bag towards the lady. – I hope I did it right. I’m new to this.
-You did great ma’am. That dress is stunning; you have to tell me where you got it from.
-I’m afraid it was tailored and the person who made it retired long ago.
-Shame, I would have loved to have one like that. Anyway, here you go! – she did not get a few sweets, the woman literally grabbed a handful of chocolate bars, sweets and bags of gummies and dumped them into Lilia’s bag, leaving half the bowl empty.
–Wow, there’s no need for so many. There won’t be any left for the children.
-Nonsense! Everyone deserves candy today and this being your first time even more so. The kids will get plenty, don’t worry.
-Thank you very much.
-You are most welcome. Enjoy your evening, don’t eat them all in one sitting and happy Halloween!
-Happy Halloween to you too.
One house down, over a dozen more to go. The weight of the bag was reward enough for Lilia and answer enough that she had definitely nailed this whole trick or treating thing. With a swift wave of her blue hand the lady closed the door as Lilia turned towards you, her burgundy lips smiling so bright that she could blind you. Without warning a giggle escaped her throat, a sweet and melodious sound that felt like the first rains after the dry season as she showed you her bag, laughter soon following and then her arms wrapping around your body, glee melting from her frame, magic sparkling inside her and sending jolts of joy through your skin.
It was the little things and the kindness of people that made the difference and you were beyond grateful the woman had been so polite and excited for Lilia to enjoy her first time, all while you stood a couple feet away watching like a proud parent who left go of their child’s bike for the first time, Lilia cycling down the road on her own, free and happy.
-I did it! Look! – she practically put the bag under your nose, her childlike joy making you laugh, your hands moving to hold her by her waist. – Divine Mother! Kirkland all chocolate!! I thought they had discontinued these ones.
-Why did you think that? They’ve been at Costco for centuries.
-I went shopping a couple of years ago and couldn’t find them anywhere and a bored looking man told me they didn’t have them anymore.
-He was obviously wrong. Are you happy? You got a lot of stuff.
-This is absolutely amazing. Let’s go to the other house. I saw a Harry Potter Hershey’s bag that I want. Someone in this street has them and I will get them; I can feel it.
-Are you using your magic to find chocolate bars?
-Maybe? I have powers, doll, might as well use them a bit for fun. Come on!
Lilia nearly flew across the road to get to the other house, and you had to jog to keep up with her but there was just no way anyone was putting a damper on her mood or stopping her from getting her candy. You just hoped no one would be harsh to her because she wasn’t a kid. In the big pumpkin patch a man dressed as Merlin and his teenage daughter, who was wearing a gorgeous Zelda costume, had been rearranging some carved jack-o’ lanterns by the front door when Lilia reached them, her smile a little bit more demure and the bag pressed against the skirt of her dress as to not seem too eager.
The girl was completely stunned by the whisps that floated above your wife’s head but was quick to compliment them and your costumes before Lilia could say trick or treat. It was just adorable to see her like this and even more so to see people smiling and giving their candy away, full size twixs and mars bars now filling up her bag, courtesy of Merlin while his daughter tried to touch the whisps, chasing them over the crunchy ground of her garden in between the pumpkins and scarecrows.
Part of Lilia was still being cautious, careful not to get too excited but it was proving to be a quite difficult task when the things that used to have her chased out of every town where now being looked at with fascination and glee, a childlike joy spreading in every street, floating in the air as darkness began to enfold the world making the orange twinkling lights shine brighter creating blurry shapes on the ground along with purple hues and reddish tones.
With a gentle thank you the two of you stepped back onto the street, the girl waving at Lilia before disappearing back into the house. After knocking on two houses and the concept clear now in Lilia’s head, going from residence to residence was much easier, the road covered in hay and broken leaves as people rushed from one place to the other, music and laughter contagious, your wife practically skipping as people kept on giving her every type of sweet under the sun without judgment, only smiles and happy Halloweens, some of the people that had opened the doors trying to seem scary by laughing or making strange poses but Lilia was completely unbothered, though polite.
She had seen Rio as Death and Agatha yelling at her neighbours when her purple lilies got trampled on by a kid, no fake ass Count Dracula could scare her. Even Sharon was creepier when someone touched her charcuterie board; her voice got lower, and her eyes narrowed like she was calculating which way she could kill you without drawing any suspicion to herself and it was actually so fucking terrifying. Lilia didn’t mind the scary element of this holiday since she knew that it came from a place of fun and laughter, not genuine fear, and most kids and adults seemed to enjoy being screamed at or chased by a maniac with a plastic knife or a chainsaw, adrenaline mixing with the sugar rush some of them were already experiencing.
Some houses had more people on their front doors than others, and one or two were dark with no decorations, curtains drawn even though shapes were moving inside. It was better this way in truth; no child should have and adult yelling at them for celebrating Halloween and be told they needed to seek God or bullshit like that, and the fact that no one even tried to step into their gardens was enough information for Lilia to know that the rule was to leave them alone. Of course, she noted it and kept walking, her bag getting heavier and heavier by the minute, Kit Kats resting among Lindt salted caramel bonbons and strawberry gin mini bottles. They were the good stuff too and would go great for a strawberry lemonade on a hot day, so they were definitely going on the kitchen cabinet above the fridge away from guests, but mainly Agatha.
No thing against the brunette getting drunk in your house, just not with the good stuff unless it was a special occasion and when she was away from Lilia’s favourite and flammable cushions. The air was becoming crisp, colder as the sun began to set, the sky changing like the tide as it brough the depths of darkness and foam to shield the town from bright lights, the gentle clouds of peach, pinks and purples moving slowly as if they were chasing those golden beams that warmed the earth, like tender companions that followed with shields and swords made of smoke to ensure that the perfect balance between day and night remained.
Every silver strand on Lilia’s hair reflected each colour like a rainbow of pearly brush strokes that curled and framed her face and neck, kissing her skin over her jawline and down her throat until the were featherlight touches on her collarbone. Each time you blinked you feared that beauty would vanish, but it remained still in time and space, never wilting, always perfect, and the fact that your bag remained empty showed just how important it was for you to see Lilia happy and being the centre of attention.
At the end of the street you could see the town square, rides and stalls placed all over the cobblestones, and from the corner of your eyes you could see Lilia’s sparkling with curiosity and glee, fixed on the food and games exactly as she had seen in the film “Halloween Town High” and “Hocus Pocus”, fiction becoming reality the same way every child that walked past her pointed and smiled joyfully at a character that up to that point they had believed only lived in fairytales, their books becoming true before their tiny beady eyes.
Lilia noticed every single child that stared in awe and she gave them all a little something to make the encounter even more magical, from a wand that could sparkle on its own to flowers that bloomed over and over on their crowns and bouquets, the tingle of her golden magic tender and delicate like a bubble every single time, nurturing and caring, exactly like her.
Wreaths of lights hung from one side of the town square to the opposite, bats and ghosts dangling from them as you reached the fair, the smell of caramel stronger but delicious, ghouls bowling on the right while elves sold ceramic bowls in the shape of cauldrons and maple leaves on the left. There was literally anything you could think of for sale and Lilia was going to buy crystals and a few herbs 100%. She was predictable like that but in a cute and sweet way.
-Y/N! Look! Candy apples! Can we get some? – it would be so easy to go all mother on her and say that you have food at home just to see her reaction, those burgundy lips pursing in annoyance as she crossed her arms over her chest making her bosom stand out even more underneath her corset but you couldn’t bring yourself to burst the happy bubble she was living in. In her world everything was candy, witches and joy and you were planning on keeping it that way for quite a while.
-Alright, we can get some. Just don’t blame me when your teeth get glued together because of the candy. – hand in hand you began to walk to the closest stand, three other people waiting in line before you, chatting away with their friends or spouses. The person at the other side of the counter was dressed in a cheap version of Ninja Turtle but their cheerful demeanour made up for the shitty costume, a ghostbuster walking away with a bright blue apple in her hand. -No amount of toothpaste will unstick them. Believe me, I’ve tried.
-You just don’t know how to eat them, doll. It’s really not that hard.
-And you do? – your eyebrow shot up before you could stop it, surprise and incredulity mixing on your face. Lilia truly was full of surprises.
-You are married to a candy apple eating pro. There’s physics behind not ruining your teeth, you just have never been taught.
-You think you can do better than me? I’ve been eating this stuff since I was a baby.
-I was here when they were invented, hun. I’m one step ahead already.
-Let’s see who can do better then. The one that finishes the apple with their teeth separated wins.
-And what will the winner get?
-If I win you have to give me the recipe for your baked ziti, the one with the species in the unlabelled jars that you never tell me what they are. Every step and every secret ingredient.
-Fine, but if I win, I keep my recipes secret, as they should be, and you are at my complete mercy until we get home and once we get there you have no say or power, if I decide to do something with you. – when had she stepped back into your personal space? You hadn’t noticed how with each word she had been inching closer and closer until her perfume was once again assaulting your senses, her right hand creeping around your back to pull you closer, her left hand toying with the neckline of your dress even though the weight of the bag was trying to pull it down. - I can do whatever I want with you; however I see fit. Deal?
-De… Deal. – you felt the palm of her hand colliding with your butt cheek before she took a step back as if nothing had happened, your heart racing and your brain nearly showing a 404 error and yet Lilia looked as innocent as ever. After all her words weren’t explicit and held many different meanings; which one was it? Only she knew that. As the last person, dressed as Kermit the Frog, bid the seller farewell you stepped up, pulling your wallet from your bag, the man pointing at different rows of apples. - What colour do you want, Lils?
-I’m a classic lady so let’s do red.
-I’ll do pink for myself then. How much?
-Eight dollars. – fucking hell. Had you known they would be this expensive you really would have told Lilia that you have food at home but at this point and seeing how excited she was and how you had already made a deal you weren’t going to back down. You pressed a ten-dollar bill on the counter and grabbed your wife’s apple to hand to her before getting your own and the change, wishing the cheap Ninja Turtle a happy Halloween to walk around the fair. There was so much to see and all the time in the world to do it.
-I can’t wait for you lose. – did you want her to lose? You had mixed feelings about this deal. You wanted that recipe, had been asking for it for years but at the same time you were curious what she had in mind if she won, so it was back to the same question: did you actually want her to lose? - I’m going to enjoy pulling that recipe out of you one word at a time.
-Dream on, doll. Watch and learn how a pro does it. – parting her lips she kept her eyes fixed on you as she licked the hard candy from the bottom of the apple, nearly touching the wooden stick, all the way to the top, a reddish tinge from the food colouring leaving a streak in the middle of her tongue, humming in delight at the sweet taste. - Watch and learn.
She was playing dirty! You nearly forgot about your own apple at the sight of her toying with hers, your steps clumsy over the cobblestones as you walked away from the stall and yet the witch acted like she was doing absolutely nothing wrong, an angel that deep down could be quite the devil. After a moment of shock, your throat dry and tight, you followed Lilia like a puppy, scurrying to hold on to her free hand, digging your teeth on the hard candy, or more accurately fighting the damn thing to get to the actual fruit. Lilia had no issues though, and sliced through the red layer with easy, as if it was only water covering the apple.
She had to be cheating you thought, one of your fangs getting glued to the candy and refusing to let go and while you fought to get it free, ready to tell Lilia off for using magic or something a shrill voice broke through the air in your direction forcing your eyes to drift from your wife, who was already three bites in without even bating an eyelid, to see Sharon about fifteen feet from you. The short, blonde woman was surrounded by four kids, varying in ages from what looked to be four up to maybe ten or eleven, and they all looked happy and definitely high as kites on sugar, the oldest covered in caramel and Oreos from her caramel apple, the twins pulling on their cotton candy pumpkins while the youngest carried a bag of dried raspberries and blueberries in his tiny hands.
If Sharon was by any means tired or overwhelmed she was doing an outstanding job at hiding it, her smile never faltering and her eyes on the kids while at the same time she was watching the plastic bags full of candy that she had on the stroller in front of her and looking at you and Lilia, and never missing a thing.
It was like a superpower, and one that had nothing to do with magic, and she was only just learning how to be a green witch after the Witches Road (her rose bushes had never looked better and had won her the award for best looking garden two years in a row. She didn’t consider it cheating, only extra fertilizer and Rio agreed, so Agatha and Billy agreed, and that made Alice agree, which also made Jen agree. Lilia did not care as long as Sharon was happy and learning, which made you agree as long as Lilia was happy that Sharon was happy. A perfectly idiotic loop).
Removing one hand from the handle of the stroller she waved enthusiastically at the two of you, steering the kids flawlessly in your direction, her black witches hat sitting askew on her curled hair but it looked kinda cute, her clothes halloweeny but practical; a pair of black trouser and an orange blouse that matched her black Mary Jane shoes. Lilia waved back excitedly and began to walk to meet her and the kids halfway, her hand pulling you from your spot beside her, both apples forgotten, your fake fang still in your mouth but covered in hard candy.
Lilia didn’t need to pull you honestly, you were not about to stay behind behaving all bitchy refusing to talk with the woman when she had done you no harm, after all Sharon and Lilia had become friends after surviving the Road and she was a kind-hearted lady who fed you delicious food when your wife was visiting her at her place. Her pecan pie was just something from another universe and she deserved the world just for that alone.
-Lilia! Y/N! I didn’t expect you to be here. Don’t you usually have a movie marathon?
-We do Mrs. Davis, but we wanted to do something new this year. Who are all this kids?
-My grandchildren. This is Nathan, - she pointed at the youngest who was dressed as Flounder from the little mermaid, his tiny hands holding onto his granny’s pants as he hid behind her legs, bright blue eyes staring at you, or to be more specific your fangs covered in red hard candy which probably looked like blood to the poor kid. With your tongue you tried to scrape it off. – he’s my daughter Laura’s son, the one who has that job at the law firm two towns over. This are Lisa and Elaine, my son Matthew’s twins and this is my oldest granddaughter, Katherine, but we call her Kitty for short, don’t we sweetheart?
-Yeah, I don’t mind it. Are you my granny’s witchy friends? – It caught you and Lilia by surprise the bluntness of the girl dressed as Rumi from “K-pop Demon Hunter”, Sharon scolding the girl softly as Lilia burst into a melodious laughter that made you cackle, the twins, dressed in super cute Mario and Luige costumes, perking up at the sound, giggling at each other.
-We are, darling. I’m Y/N and this is my wife, Lilia. Are you having fun?
-Oh yeah! Granny has taken us to so many houses and we already have bags full of candy in the car. She wanted us to go bowling so we can win a plushie for my auntie.
-Laura has to work today and throughout the weekend – Sharon began to explain as if she was worried we might judge her children for not being there today, looking down at her grandbabies with a gentle smile that reflected just how much this woman loved her family, a pang of sorrow flickering in her eyes for an instant at the thought of her husband not being here to have fun as well, but before anyone could address it, it was gone and her cheerful demeanour was trying to overtake the atmosphere once again, all in the span of less than a minute and without anyone barely noticing. Expect Lilia, she always knew, she always felt. - and was pretty upset she couldn’t be with the kids on Halloween, so I thought a little present might cheer her up, isn’t that, right? We are going to get her a big bat, aren’t we Nathan, dear? – the boy nodded but didn’t move from his spot much, still observing these strangers that were taking to his nana. – Don’t mind him, his very shy and it takes him a long time to warm up to strangers. When he gets used to you, you’ll see what a sweet boy he is.
-It’s okay Sharon, really. He seems quite adorable already. Is your son going to pick up his children or are they are all staying with you all weekend?
-They are all staying with me. Matthew asked if I wanted to have them this year and obviously, I said yes, so here we are!
-Nana, can we go to the bumper cars? Elaine and I saw our friend Sheryl there. Can we? Please? Please? Pretty please?
-We are talking with nana’s friends; can you wait a little longer until I’m done?
-It’s okay Sharon, you go and have fun with your grandkids. Y/N and I were just going to roam around a bit before going home and watching our annual Halloween movie marathon.
-If you are sure? – Lilia nodded, curls bouncing up and down, the twins’ eyes twinkling, their feet shuffling over the dust and hay covered cobblestones as if they were getting ready to sprint down to where their friend was the moment their granny gave them the ok. - Alright, I guess we are going to the bumper cars then. See you next week for our lessons, Lilia?
-Of course.
-I’ll be joining this time, Mrs. Davis. Would you happen to be making your chocolate cheesecake that day? Out of curiosity.
-Of course I will, Y/N! And call me Sharon, I’ve told you many times that you don’t need to be so formal. We are all friends!
-Nana! Come on!
-Alright, alright! Have a nice night and happy Halloween!
-You too, Sharon. Happy Halloween!
-Children say happy Halloween to the nice ladies
Kitty was louder and more cheerful than Nathan, but all four kids gave you good wishes, the twins pulling on the stroller in the direction of their friend giving Sharon almost no time to say goodbye. Brief but intense you thought, chuckling at the sight of her grandkids pointing and jumping at things and Sharon, being the sweetheart she was, met her grandbabies on their same level, figuratively and literally. She was gone in between the mass of people in just a few minutes and with nothing else to do Lilia began to walk slowly with no specific direction, just strolling in between games and stalls, and with no more distractions you were able to dig back into your apple, cursing your fake fangs that didn’t let you take proper bites, not that you would have done much better if they didn’t exist to be honest. Not the way Lilia was polishing the damned fruit like it was a cup of hot chocolate, her teeth barely even covered in the red candy, much less sticking.
Turning round the corner you were enthralled by a woman turning clay in a pottery wheel, her hands carefully pushing and pulling the soft material to create a vase, or whatever it was she was making, and in your enchanted shock Lilia took the chance to purchase a lovely hand painted fall plate, holding the last bite of her apple in between her teeth as she pulled her wallet from a pocket in her dress. If you had seen it, you would have yelled that it had pockets, but you were too mesmerized by a bunch of clay and had to be pulled away by Lilia grabbing both of your hands or you would probably spend all night just standing there, the plate perfectly wrapped inside her pumpkin bag.
-You need to learn how to do that Lils. It’s so cool.
-Will you clean the clay and pay thousands for all the equipment? If you don’t mind, sure, I’ll make you vases and other stuff.
-I’m fure if nod faf efpenfif.
-What? Are we creating languages now, hun? – she was trying to be funny but the mask of sarcasm fell the moment she turned to see you stuck to your apple, laughter erupting out of her, her body bending forward at the sight while your fingers tried to pull the fucking fruit out and away before it pulled a filling out! Lilia was really trying to help but the whole thing was just too hilarious, and she couldn’t spend more than a few seconds looking at you before her laughter got the better of her over and over until a loud pop finally released the apple.
-Freedom!! At last!
-And you said you could finish it before me? HAHAHAHAHAHA – she was being kinda cruel now, you thought, the apple half eating and now missing part of the hard candy cover that laid on the ground, inedible, and your wife still laughing her Sicilian ass off like it was the funniest thing in the planet. You crossed your arms and stared with a pout on your lips to show how annoyed you were but it didn’t work out the way you had intended and Lilia only turned her laughter to chuckles while cradling your face in her hand – You are so cute, but amore, I’ve been going around with just a stick for five minutes and you haven’t even noticed. It was a lost battle from the very beginning.
-You cheated! You used your magic to soften it, I’m sure!
-I don’t need to cheat to win, doll. I can still do whatever I want with you, deal or no deal. It’s just skills, and ones that you know very well as a matter of fact. Licking candy is not the only thing I can do. – okay, you definitely didn’t mind losing this time. She could do anything her heart desired to you and you’d gladly let her, knees weak as her lips brushed yours, suddenly the spot you were standing in completely empty, the sweetness on her burgundy carmine blending with your rick red lipstick, hands wrapping around your waist to keep you exactly where she wanted. Lilia had tricks up her sleeve at all times. – A deal is a deal, and I won, so be a good girl and follow my orders.
-Yes, my lady.
-Good to know peasants remember their place in the presence of aristocracy. Throw your apple away and we’ll go home. I have plans for you.
The only light left was that of the lampposts and fairy lights that decorated the town square but they all seemed to highlight Lilia as if she was standing in the middle of the Albert Hall, read to give the performance of her life, voice as sweet as honey but strong as oaks reverberating against the walls even when she whispered, her breath in your ear drawing goosebumps all over your body. Even the shadows that the night cast on her face were as intoxicating as the strongest drug, and the stars above, shining brightly all over the black canvas of the universe, matched the glitter and pearls your wife was decorated with, reflecting every colour autumn had to offer.
If the weather had turned cold, you could not tell, Lilia’s body heat emanating from her skin and seeping into your bones, the pressure her fingertips were leaving on your waist like fire that scorched your flesh until she was practically melted into your frame, one with her. In an instant she had taken a step back, waiting for you to do as told, her smile coy but her eyes twinkling with an evil hue that made your knees grown even weaker. Your steps were clumsy, but you made it to a random trash can and threw your apple, the shape of your teeth visible on the pink candy, streaks of that same colour painted on the off-white flesh of the fruit, turning around to face her the moment the task was done. One of her arms snaked around your waist to keep you close before starting to walk out of the town square through one of the side streets, away from prying eyes.
-Such an obedient girl. But just in case… - something pulled on your arms, something warm and electric that wasn’t Lilia’s hands, forcing your shoulders to rotate until the back of your hands were pressed against the small of your back, fingers twitching slightly when that electricity became pressure around your wrists. She was binding you with her magic! – I can tighten them or loosen them, your behaviour will tell me which, so be a good girl. Magical burns or wounds can be very tricky to heal, and you don’t want me to hurt you, do you?
-No, my lady.
A triumphant smirk painted her burgundy lips, the music and rowdiness of the town square fading into the background as you walked, lights dim but still enough to keep the streets safe, not that you were worried. Lilia was powerful, very powerful, and no one would dare even try to mug her or worse when she could crush them until they were a pile of bones on the ground, shattered and begging for mercy. With her you felt safe. Even now, with your hands tied behind your back and with her fingers toying with the fabric around your hip, pinching the skin underneath at times almost as if she was trying to show you who was in charge, not that you didn’t know already.
Lilia preferred to be pampered, to be pleased and kissed until she was satiated and had no desire for anymore pleasure, her body taking care of you slowly, warming up to your noises and movements, but that meant being at your mercy and it wasn’t something she was willing to accept at certain times, like right now. Lilia had the upper hand and chose exactly how and where she wanted you, at all times, even when you thought you were the one calling the shots. The binds on your wrists pulled your arms down making your back arch ever so slightly, which forced your chest to puff out to keep you from falling, the power balance shifting in her favour, leaving you bare before her. Well, maybe not bare yet, but soon enough.
One or two people walked past you but didn’t seem to notice anything odd, not even when Lilia’s hand pulled you closer until your hip bone was pressed against hers, her hand inching closer to the joint between your leg and pelvis, her magic sharp but never painful under your skin. She was barely toying with you and you were already soaked through, or maybe that was because of the golden tendrils that were snaking up your legs, squeezing your ass and ghosting over your pubic bone and yet she never touched you where you wanted her most even if she knew you liked the risk of getting caught. What on Earth was she planning?
She could push you into a dark alley and have her way with you, but she kept giving you strange signals that confused you and turned you on even more, like she wanted to keep you on edge, guessing what her next move was going to be. The night air floated around you with anticipation, the crips chill that was already settling on the ground and on top of cars mixing with the heat that your body was producing, every time Lilia’s cape or dress touched even an inch of your skin your breath hitched in your lungs. If she was talking it all sounded like gibberish to you, eyes fixed on the way her lips were moving, the corners pulling up into a smirk when she noticed just how much she was affecting you and deciding in the blink of an eye that you could take more.
The vines of golden magic that were now wrapped all over your limbs, their movements so slow that you didn’t even notice them covering your whole body, pressed tightly over and under your clothes, digging into your skin like rose stems, sharp thorns practically slicing your flesh but not a single drop of blood ever stained your white dress, never breaking skin. The line between pain and pleasure was becoming blurry, not that you minded. “Thank you, Divine Mother” you spoke quietly in your head when you got off a narrow street, your house visible at maybe a hundred and fifty feet, not a sound reaching your ears except for your shoes, Lilia’s heels and her hot breath that ghosted over your cheeks every time she spoke.
If only you had actually been paying attention to what she had been talking about. With very detailed descriptions she had been telling you what she was going to do to you and yet your brain had been unable to focus on her and so you missed every single explanation, but it was much more fun that way. She knew what she wanted from you and you were oblivious to everything. Actually, that called for a punishment. A hand shot to grab your face, pushing your head back while turning it in her direction, your eyes wide and locked with hers, where a dark shadow of malice danced a tango with her dilated pupils, drunk in arousal and power.
-Did you even hear what I said? Anything I said?!
-I’m… I’m sorry, my lady.
-Sorry? You think that cuts it? That I will forgive you for this blatant disrespect?! – her hands moved sharply and fast, your ankles wrapped as tightly as your wrists, your body lifted off the ground without warning, making you yelp in surprise but that only fed Lilia’s power even more. No one was there to see the way she had you levitating like a puppet, the witch comfortable in her own skin knowing very well that this was the least you could take, the least she could do. – You don’t want to hear what I have to say, then I will not give you even a chance to retort my choices. You obey and take what I’m willing to give, understood?
-Yes, my lady.
-See? You can be a good girl. – her nails racked over your cheek leaving red and angry marks that sent shivers down your spine. –But I won’t allow even one single hair on your head to step out of line so don’t forget your place and everything will come up roses for you tonight. – the grip her fingers had on your chin were borderline bruising, but she didn’t stop, not for a second, your body completely at her mercy. - Not one more mistake or the consequences will be… severe.
You didn’t trust your voice to keep a steady tone, or to come out at all, heart beating so fast that you feared it might burst out of your chest, so like an innocent little vampire you nodded. Thankfully that seemed acceptable to her and her hands finally released you, your feet touching the ground after a second or two, but the tendrils of magic didn’t move an inch, almost like a warning and this time you listened, steps shaky but keeping up with Lilia with ease, the witch making sure to keep her left hand visible for you at all times, rivulets of gold swimming between her fingers.
The house was right there, getting closer and closer, and that only made you wetter and wetter, a question popping up in your head. What was Lilia feeling? Your wife wouldn’t tell you; she was a practical woman and believed on showing things through actions more than words, so you weren’t expecting her to turn and say anything to you, but the signs were there.
The way her breaths were hurried, breasts pushing on her corset to the point that they looked like they could spill out at any moment, her eyes dark, so dark that they matched the night sky and the depth of the ocean, her voice low whenever she spoke, husky and thick like a perfect mix of caramel and honey that gathered on your tongue even if her touch wasn’t on you now. Her whole body was on fire, stifling under the fabric of her dress, cheeks slightly flushed that gave her the most delicious look of angelic innocence in the universe even though the dampness between her legs told a different story and you were begging inside your head to be allowed to touch her.
When the big cherry tree on your front garden and the white fence covered in overgrown ivy approached you were tempted to sigh in relief but kept it inside you instead, afraid that Lilia might consider it an infraction of some kind. You have never been so happy to see a bunch of flowers and pumpkins in your life and if you had not been staring at your wife’s back as she walked a couple feet in front of you, over the stone path to unlock the door, you would have seen the relief crossing her features and the way her hands were rushing to pull her keys out of her pocket, shaky against the doorknob. There was an invisible fog that had your home in a bubble, as if it was separated from the rest of the universe, people able to see it but never suspecting what things were happening inside, the keys finally opening the door with a soft click. The hinges creaked softly for a second as the inertia accumulated on the wood pushed the door open a few inches.
Clocks ticked by at the speed of light and yet everything seemed to move in slow motion around you, Lilia turning her whole body around to face you with an unreadable expression on her features, the rich darkness and very dim street lights casting shadows on her face that made her look dangerous, a unknown fate waiting for you inside the dark hall behind her and she was pulling you slowly towards her.
The moment you were within her reach she had grabbed you by the throat and pulled you into the dark, the door slamming closed, locking without touch and trapping you with her, not that you would ever complaint, not even when you were smashed against the cold glass and hard wood, the knob digging into your back. Her lips crashed onto yours, groaning into your mouth as her tongue dominated yours, every inch of her seeping under your skin, her sweet taste getting you so high that you thought you might burst into flames right there and then.
-Feels so good to be winner, doesn’t it? – parting briefly she almost didn’t lift her lips, feeling her every word as she breathed. - Oh, right, I’m the victorious one and you are the peasant who lost.
-Lilia…
-Lilia? You think you can use my name? That you have the right to address me at all?! – the force on your throat made you gasp, arousal practically trickling down your thighs, but you kept as still as you could manage, blood pumping in your ears, her nails digging onto your flesh. The cheek! The disobedience! As long as she was in charge, she expected you to follow her every rule and you were already failing, like the pathetic little pet you were. – I didn’t give you permission to speak and that was a big mistake from your part! - Holy shit! Her free hand grabbed onto the neckline of your black corset and with and with a strength you had never seen she pulled and ripped it, golden sparks of magic shooting in every direction as the sound of fabric tearing drawing a quiet gasp from you. She was being harsh, almost brutal, and she had never really been like this before but that didn’t mean you were not enjoying seeing her in control, powerful and bending her magic like a sword, its edge on your neck. The thin material of your gown tore as soft as butter, exposing your stomach and breasts to her, the rip stopping short of your pubic bone, the waistline of your knickers visible. – If I wanted a bitch to talk back to me I would fuck Agatha, and I can promise you that I’d make you watch as I bend her like a fucking twig, so be a proper slut and stay in your lane and you’ll be the one on your knees eating me out, and that is a privilege. Have I made myself clear?
-Ye… yes, my lady.
-Good girl.
Snapping her fingers the two of you moved from the entrance hall to the bedroom, Lilia standing perfectly on her feet while your body landed forcefully on the bed wrists and ankles tied by tight tendrils of magic, keeping you on your back with your hands grabbing onto the bedsheet’s underneath you. You were prey watching their predator as she circled the bed with very slow steps, her hands caressing her dress, fingering the neckline all while her eyes remained on you, chest rising and falling rapidly with very breath you took, eyes flickering between her face and her hands.
Divine Mother, you were so fucking gorgeous just laying there, unable to move, forbidden from speaking, waiting like a good pet, and Lilia was loving every single second of it, so hot and horny that she was unsure she could keep this whole thing up for much longer if she didn’t get some kind of pleasure. Fingertips pulled pin after pin from the front side of her dress, the fabric loosening slowly around her body, the usually separated pieces of clothing now attached by a few strategic stitches to avoid having to put every item away on their own which made undressing easier, and today also fast.
With the fabric inching off her body as she pulled the last pin all she had to do was pull it off her shoulders and let it fall, a turquoise sea of satin and silk sliding down her arms like a waterfall until it was pooling around her ankle, hands untying the paniers that game volume to the skirt along with the petticoat, leaving her in an exquisite pearly corset that hugged her figure so perfectly it made your mouth water, golden flowers embroidered under her bust and above her hips, silver branches connecting everything like poison ivy around her waist, hips and inner thighs covered by a pair of extremely white short bloomers, never ending legs dressed in black fishnets.
This woman would be the death of you. She had looked all royal and proper on the outside and all that time she had known she had this underneath, all the things that turned you on without fail, spiking your arousal by a million as she stepped out of the clothes she had just removed with calculated moved, lifting her leg further up that was actually needed to make sure you could see every inch of her from her hips down to her heeled foot.
-I think you are quite overdressed. Let me fix that.
She could have made your dress, or what was left of it, disappear with a flick of her wrist but it was much more fun to walk towards the bed, hips swaying dramatically from side to side and grab onto the gown just above your pubic bone, bending slightly over you with one knee resting on the mattress, boobs begging to spill out of her corset. It was so easy to rip the whole thing down to your feet, your skin exposed and covered in goosebumps, the only piece of clothing left on your body being your knickers, but that could be taken care of Lilia thought, climbing fully onto the bed and crawling to straddle your legs, bound as they were by her magic.
-Oh, sweet, sweet Y/N. You should have known better than to wear this flimsy thing. – her index finger lifted the waistband around your left hip just enough that you could feel her nail scratching your flesh until she let go and a sharp sting rose on the spot where the elastic had landed. – I like my sluts naked, and you seem to be failing at that.
Thank God she didn’t rip them, you thought, cause they had cost you over twenty quid at Victoria Secret and you didn’t want them to get ruined, the fabric sliding down your hips and legs, shoes forgotten by the foot of the bed, now accompanied by your underwear but Lilia didn’t want anything else in bed except you, and as she crawled backwards until her knees were basically on the edge the remnants of your dress vanished into thin air, fingers moving in circular motions in front of her, like she was toying with her own magic slowly and using her middle and ring finger.
Now, this was more like it, naked and needy, so wet your knickers were drenched and leaving a spot on the bedsheets where they had landed and as much as she wanted to taste you, you hadn’t earned it yet, not after so many mistakes, and the many more she knew you’d make. You were such a loud slut. Raking her nails over your stomach Lilia watched the red streaks form before getting off the bed to pull something from her nightstand, your eyes glued to her round ass as she bent, stretching your neck but still unable to see, hearing ruffling of clothes, bags and what sounded like a box of some kind.
She kept a few toys there but there weren’t enough for her to actually rummage through her stuff so there was something new in there that she needed and your curiosity was making your body turn without you even noticing. By the time you realised Lilia had already stood and turned, catching you nearly off the bed on your side and she most certainly did not like that.
-What the fuck do you think you are doing? – even though she had two small glass bottles and a delicate paint brush on her left hand, her right one was free and she wasn’t tender when she pushed you back onto the mattress, fury and lust in her eyes, her grip bruising. – Can’t your brain comprehend simple orders? You are not allowed to move, speak or do anything without my permission but you keep fucking up and disobeying. – the mattress dipped as she drawled back on top of it, moving until she was straddling you by your hips, the ruffles of her bloomers brushing against your naked thighs, one glass jars on each hand now that she had you pinned onto the bed with her own body. - I was going to go nice on you but not anymore. You don’t deserve it.
While her right hand released the dark coloured bottle to pick up the paint brush Lilia was using her teeth to pull the cork on the light coloured one, dipping the bristles until they were soaking in a beige like liquid, her hand steady and the smell of vanilla assaulting your senses along with a cold feeling on your collarbone. She was delicate with each stroke, letting her magic swim on your skin as she painted rune after rune, your body moving of its own accord. Your left arm shot up in the air, nearly missing Lilia’s head by just a few inches though she remained undisturbed, hand flying until it was pinned above your head, knuckles brushing the headboard. It was joined quickly by your right one, your wife’s chocolate eyes focused on her task, the brush sliding on your skin like melted butter, though the smell was sweet and not salty, rune after rune covering the left side of your torso, Lilia’s ass shimming down your upper things to give herself room to paint the last one right above your hip bone.
In all that time she had whispered words you couldn’t quite understand or make out, her lips barely moving, lipstick smudged, and whatever it was she had been saying was defiantly working as the feeling of her magic, raspy and electric, wrapped around not only your wrists but also your arms. Happy with her work Lilia proceeded to do the same on your right side but this time with the bottle she had left on top of the mattress earlier, the popping sound of the cork coming out echoing against the walls. This aroma was sweeter, like chocolate, and the liquid was thicker than the vanilla one, not any colder though. Hand steady and voice quiet, your legs moved without warning, spreading and bending ever so slightly until you were completely open and visible to anyone who entered the room, tightly bound and completely helpless, a cold breeze floating around the room colliding with your soaked pussy making your shiver.
-That’s better. You won’t step out of line now and if you try… - the movements of her hands were deliberately sexual, fingers curling and moving, wrists swaying up and down, and as you watched mesmerized a jolt of sparks run over your folds, vibrating and electric, sliding up and down until it settled on your clit. Fuck! If she kept this up for much longer, you’d cum, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. This was better than any toy, getting practically fingered by her magic, why the hell hadn’t she done this before?! – Feels good, doesn’t it?
-Yes. Fuck, it does.
A satisfied smile spread on her lips and as a treat to you she lowered herself until her face was inches away from your skin, right above your left hip and with your eyes fixed on your face, the tendrils of magic still stimulating your clit, opened her mouth and placed her tongue on your body, licking every single rune she had just painted, off, the deep chocolate flavour gathering on her taste buds with those delicious salty undertones of your sweat, a wet trail left behind that sent shivers from the tips of your toes up to the top of your head, nipple hardening at the sensation.
She was everywhere, over you, nearly inside you and although she was giving you so much it felt like she was giving you nothing, only doing things that pleased herself and you fucking loved being used like this, her tongue now moving to the vanilla paint on your left side, the hands that had been pressed against the mattress on each side of your ribcage snaking up to your breasts, kneading and pinching your nipples until they were painfully hard and red, gasps and moans escaping your throat, your mouth the only thing she had not bound. Why was that? It was clear she didn’t want you to speak, why not use her magic to shut you up?
The question floated inside your head amongst the pleasure and lust, her kisses and leftover edible paint covering your torso and chest, her magic secured and spells perfectly in place. Happy with her work Lilia sat back on the bed, over your upper thighs, observing you; you just looked so fucking pretty and delicious, all flushed and out of breath, moaning and shaking slightly as your orgasm built and grew but what kind of woman would she be if she let you off the hook so easily? Lilia liked her pets quiet and submissive, and you were giving her such a hard time.
-You just can’t stay silent, can you? I guess I’ll have to shut you up somehow.
Keep calm, keep calm Y/N, you repeated inside your head, lips pursed trying to keep from making a single noise but at this point Lilia didn’t care. She crawled up your body slowly, so slowly that you thought she was trying to kill you from pleasure and anticipation, a carnivore stalking her prey that was so willingly placed on a silver tray and just when you thought she would stop, her face inches from yours, lips ready to be kissed and yet she lifted herself until she was sitting on your chest. Shuffling over the bedsheets with her knees she was inching closer to your face.
The moment she had passed your shoulders did your eyes notice something strange on her bloomers, the sight of flesh in between her legs, grey curls glistening with arousal, a lightbulb lighting up in your head when your overstimulated brain finally connected the dots. This witch was wearing crotchless bloomers and had been dripping down her thighs all this fucking time!! Glorious gates to the heavens opened up the instant her knees moved to each side of your head, her fucking gorgeous and dripping wet pussy above your mouth and nose, hoovering so close that you could taste her in the air. To know that she had been soaking all this time made your arousal ruin the bedding underneath, flowing like a waterfall almost, Lilia holding onto the headboard and she lowered herself, muttering a quiet “Come on, eat mama out with that filthy tongue”. How could you refuse?
If you had been thirsty she would been you oasis, if you had been stricken by hunger she would have been your first meal, if you had been caught in freezing winter storms her body would have been your fire and your shelter, and a cooling stream of crystal water had you been dying from scorching heat. Perhaps you had indeed lived all those moments the instant your tongue gathered her juices, salty on your taste buds and oh so delicious, addicting, intoxicating, calming your hunger, thirst and need, that delightful sound of a moan falling from her parted lips reward enough to your ears. Her slick pussy glided over your mouth and nose as she rolled her hips, moving back and forth, your tongue lapping at her folds, sucking and biting down lightly before moving upwards as much as they binds would let you to take her clit between your lips.
You couldn’t see her, trapped as you were between her legs but if you had your whole body would pounced on her, kissing down her neck as her head lulled back, rich oak eyes closed, trapping her pleasure inside her head and in every cell of her body, knuckles white where she was gripping onto the headboard for dear life. With a hard suck on her bundle of nerves several profanities ripped from her throat, husky and rumbling inside her flushed chest, breasts begging to be let out of her corset but to be honest Lilia wasn’t paying attention to that part of her body, not when your teeth were scraping her clit and your tongue was flicking it so fast and so fucking well Lilia was beginning to shake, her damp curls brushing over your nose with each movement she made.
-Fuck! There, there… Don’t stop
You were but a humble servant, nothing in the universe could make you pause your actions when she tasted so divine, her pussy drenched and dripping down your chin. Out of habit your hand moved to part her perfectly pink folds, forgetting that it was tied down and unable to move so you had to get a bit creative and used your tongue as best you could to make it to her entrance, pushing as far up her cunt as you could go, your nose rubbing her clit as you fucked her with your mouth.
Desperation was now audible in every gasp, groan and curse she made, panting loudly as the coil of fire that had been steadily burning in her lower abdomen started to unravel, ears beginning to ring, magma spreading over her whole body like a volcano about to erupt, fucking herself on your face just as much as you were eating her out. It was embarrassing how close she was already or maybe how fucking good you were at sucking her clit, either way she was going to cum soon and had no plans on trying to stop it, not even for a second.
Without thinking Lilia bent forward to put most of her weight on the headboard, the new angle pushing her clit down on your face even more and since you had been presented with such an exquisite meal you just couldn’t pass it up and stopped fucking her entrance to suck hard on her bud, so hard that she yelled in pleasure and pain and pressed her pussy against your face even further, thrusting her hips fast and hard, white heat clouding her mind as she got closer and closer.
-YES! FUCK! YES! FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
She’d punish you for this but she was so close, her walls clenching around nothing, her juices flowing out of her like a broken dam, and so you bit down on her clit, the jolt of pleasure sending her over the edge, one hand shooting to grab you by your hair and keep you in place to fuck herself on your face as she rode her orgasm. For an instant there was nothing, not even the feeling of your tongue on her and the next it was like she had exploded into fireworks that’s et her aflame and you were already versed on your wife’s pleasure and continued to such and flick her clit until her shaking body released your head from the grip her thighs had on it, the scream she had produced so raw and deep that you wondered if she had hurt her throat when she had made it.
There was no indication she had even noticed the way she slumped slightly once her orgasm began to release her, pussy twitching and clenching every once in a while, breaths raggedy and trembling. Your whole face was a mess, soaked with her juices, but you would never complain, not in the slightest, and since you could not soothe Lilia with your hands you did the next best thing and kissed her inner thighs tenderly, shivers spreading from where your lips landed that travelled up her spine and to her fingertips. After maybe a minute or two her heartrate had slowed down enough for her to move and still in a hazy fog of lust, she crawled down your body until she was straddling your hips again, seeing the mess she had made on your face for the first time.
-Don’t you look like a proper slut.
-I wonder why.
It was a friendly jab and under different circumstances Lilia would have laughed and let it pass, still swaying in blissful waves of afterglow, but tonight she wasn’t so kind and understanding, but most importantly she wasn’t done. Seeing clear as day that nothing she did could keep you quiet and obedient ideas rushed through her mind to turn you into her well behaved sex toy and so she had to resort to harsher measures that she had previously intended. Her semblance became darker in mere seconds, eyes narrowing and her hands gripping your hips so hard that you were sure she was going to leave nasty bruises.
Once single glace at her nearly black eyes and you instantly knew that you had fucked up, like royally, features that you could spend all eternity kissing and cradling tenderly in the palms of your hands now covered in dark shadows that didn’t let you see the lust in her eyes, although you sure as hell could feel the power emanating from her very soul, keeping you guessing and almost fearing her intentions. She must have had a class on power dynamics with Agatha because Lilia had never topped you this way before, with such strength and command that one look and your breath would leave your lungs, arousal drowning you between your legs.
Pressing your hips down hard on the bed you could see the smirk that tried to hide behind her supposedly offended and furious mask and it turned you even more to see just how much she was enjoying this and you were indeed giving her every reason under the sun inflict a severe punishment on your helpless little person, gentleness no longer being an option for you. You were soooo chatty that you wanted to speak even when told not to? She’d make sure you were rendered silent and kept fucking quiet.
Lilia moved away from you and off the bed, never breaking eye contact, her fingers toying with the neckline of her corset as the strings that kept it tightly on her body began to unlace own their own, magic flowing around the witch so freely, so controlled that had you completely bewitched. With each pull and push the garment became loser, Lilia walking very slowly around the bed like she was assessing you and coming up with a plan of action, the sound of her heels clicking between the rug and floor matching the pumping of blood in your veins.
You had nearly forgotten just how exposed you were when the vibrations that had steadily been diminishing on your clit stopped all together and your drenched folds were left to feel the cold air inside the room, a sharp shiver making your whole body shake, her eyes moving from your face to your pussy and back to your face. Now she was full on smiling, a wicked one that matched the ideas in her head, the corset finally unlacing completely and sliding off her body to gather with her dress, breasts bouncing free at last, plump and big and so delicious. You wanted to have them in your mouth, to knead them until Lilia was whining with needy, her nipples rock hard, but you were trapped.
This bitch was torturing you! Not only did she make you wait to see her gorgeous tits but not she was sliding her bloomers off at the pace of a snail, the white fabric travelling down her legs that still wore those devilish fishnets. Wait, if you had eaten her out and there had been no obstacles whatsoever minutes before that meant… One quick and clean swoosh and she was standing before you in nothing but her tights, and ones that had been purposely ripped at her crotch to leave her pussy completely bare.
All this fucking time you could have been fingering under that damned dress, and you didn’t even know!! Much to your dismay she didn’t grant you time to think about it much before her hands moved rapidly from side to side and your whole frame was turned around without warning until you were on your knees, arms tied above your head, face practically pressed against the mattress while your ass was raised for your wife to feast on, folds glistening and legs spread.
Now you were completely unable to see a thing, eyes focusing on the skin of your forearm and what little you could gather from the room above the profile of her bicep but you sure as hell could hear Lilia moving around the room, opening drawers and closing them in complete silence, or maybe she was speaking and the ringing in your ears and the ache between your legs had rendered you deaf for a moment. Either way you were left in that posture for a couple of minutes that felt both like a fragment of a second and three whole centuries at the same time, Lilia’s magical bounds wrapping around new places like your thighs and hips to hip you in place, digging onto your skin. After tonight it was going to have long sleeves for like a month.
The mattress dipped around the foot of the bed as your wife climbed back on top, her hands running up your calves and thighs like she was testing you, seeing if you were exactly where and how she wanted you. One sharp slap on your butt cheek that caught you off guard, a yell escaping your dry throat, told you that she was ready for business; what that was though? No fucking clue but you should have seen it coming. It wasn’t her hands what run up and down your pink folds, it was something sort of rubbery, cold and big that nearly had you bucking your hips as your brain scrambled to figure out what it was (Honestly, you didn’t need to be Einstein to know what the hell it was, but when you’ve had pussy on your face just a few minutes ago one tends to be a little bit out of sorts)
-Let’s see if you can make more comments when I’m so deep in your needy cunt you can feel me in your throat.
Lubricant was definitely not something she needed to keep the tip of her strap all wet before parting your folds and pushing in ever so slightly in your entrance, the first stretch making you gush even more as her left hand held onto your hip while her right guided a seven-inch silicone magical dick inside your throbbing pussy. Deliberately slow so you could feel the whole thing pushing deep and filling you up so well, that familia sting of being stretched fading into pleasure that had you closing your eyes, a deep moan reverberating against the mattress.
That was not exactly what Lilia would call silent, at least not the way she wanted you to be and so she pulled out almost completely before slamming back inside you, your whole body jerking forward at the motion, pathetic whimpers falling from your lips like the needy tears that were threatening to fall from your eyes. She hadn’t been teasing you for that long you thought but you were so turned on, so on fire that the need to cum was beginning to become painful and the way Lilia was ramming into you with a force that made your whole body shake, hitting every fucking spot was going to send you over the edge in no time if she wasn’t careful.
Although it didn’t look like she had any intention of being tender or gentle in the slightest, the stinging sensation of a slap on your ass mixing with the way her cock moved, making a perfect cocktail of rough love, your fingers holding onto the edge of the bedsheets, not caring if your knuckles were brushing against the headboard. Every time she felt you clenching harder and harder around her cock Lilia would slow down, grunts and pants and frustrated whines falling on their knees before her, but she paid them no mind, getting angrier by the minute at your incapability of being fucking silent!
The instant a plea for her to speed up left your mouth Lilia grabbed your waist with her left hand and bent over your body, her plump tits pressed against your bare back, nipples brushing on your skin, and placed her right one on the side of your head grabbing a handful of your knotted hair. Your head was lifted off the bed a few inches, Lilia’s lips brushing your ear while her cock remined deep inside you, hips moving in circles instead of in and out to make sure you were still being stimulated, tortured even, feeling as if the tip was nearly touching your cervix even though it was a good few inches away still. Her words cut sharp as knifes and burnt like raw embers.
-You have no right to plead slut. You don’t have any rights when I’m in charge of you and if you don’t shut the fuck up and stop disobeying my orders, I will put a gag ball in your mouth. Or maybe you want to have my cock wet with your juices deep in your throat.
-Fuck, yes. Anything.
-Needy whore. As if I’d let you be pleased before I’m done. Apologise for your behaviour. Now.
-I’… I’m so… sorry, my lady.
-Hmmmm. I still don’t think you’ve learnt your lesson.
With that she shoved your face against the mattress and began pounding so fast and hard that you could hear her skin slapping against your and your slick pussy making sinfully wet noises each time the strap moved and was thrusted inside you. With the bedsheets pressed against your mouth the noises were muffled, at least the ones you could not stop making even if you tried, the golden ropes scratching your skin but still not drawing blood. If they had been real you would have been covered in broken and raw skin, drops of crimson liquid falling like tears onto the bed, the spots on the white linens ruined beyond salvation although they might still be with the way your tears mixed with Lilia’s juices that had gathered on your face, your arousal dripping and creaming around the cock and down your thighs.
Lilia was biting down on her lower lip as to not give away her own pleasure, yet. The strap was enchanted to allow her to feel everything and cum inside you if she so desired, your walls clenching hard around her, each movement and each sensation travelling down to her clit and spreading fire all over her body, getting her close once again but she was pushing her own pleasure aside this time to teach you a lesson, after all she had all night to cum as many times as she wanted, and you would give them to her.
Somehow her speed accelerated even more, fucking you so fast and hard that your entire frame kept moving back and forth constantly, tits bouncing and brushing against the bedding, Lilia’s own breasts swaying with each motion she made, her hand still pressing you hard onto the mattress. She would not let go until she was satisfied you had understood the message, and it seemed that maybe you were getting there, your mouth wide open but only quiet whines echoing against the walls every once in a while, every grunt and moan gathered on the tip of your tongue begging to be let out as you got closer. Fuck, you were going to cum!
And just as you had been about to jump of the edge of the cliff Lilia stopped completely, the turmoil of sensations and thoughts vanishing so abruptly that you became dizzy, heart racing and lungs fighting to catch their breath. What the fuck was she doing?! You were crying, flushed to the point that you could be mistaken for a lobster, sweaty and dripping down onto Lilia’s thighs and harness, clutching onto the bed for dear life and this woman just stopped?! She could make you cum over and over, turn you into mush and make you melt like butter before you passed out but it was much more fun to keep you in your place with the reward of sexual release. At some point.
She pulled out, the sensation of being so empty drawing a pathetic whimper from you, body shaking so much that you were almost thankful for the magic that kept you in place, the witch behind you moving and shifting the weight from one leg to the other, the bed dipping with each motion but your mind couldn’t pick up what was happening, too foggy still. Barely a minute had passed with no time to recover or think at all before you were being turned like a ragged doll onto your back, Lilia naked at the foot of the bed except for the fishnets, the strap in her hands, and your legs straightened out so she could put it on you knowing that the magic would be like torture on your throbbing pussy and swollen clit but she didn’t care one fucking bit.
She made quick work of putting the strap on you, the magic loose around your legs and hips so you could help her get it on, your butt lifting off the bed a little so the harness wouldn’t twist and dig onto your back. Lilia might be treating you like an object and using you like a sex toy but if she injured you at all, it would be consensual, never accidentally because that was not what she wanted to get out of doing this. You were her wife, and she would never hurt you in any way that could actually cause damage unless you had agreed beforehand and even then, she’d be careful and keep an eye out and the harness this strap had could easily break skin and make you bleed if not adjusted properly.
With everything secured in place and your eyes fixed on the curls that had slipped out of her bun, cascading down her back, others framing her face, Lilia began to crawl back up your body, your heart still beating so fast that you were sure she could hear it. Her fingers left goosebumps on their wake as her hands slid up your legs, nails digging hard when they got to your inner thighs. The silicone cock was slick with your juices, hard and standing proudly as it waited for whoever it was supposed to fuck, and as much as Lilia’s pussy wanted it, she had to make sure that it was up to her standards. That meant looking at you while she grabbed the base of it and licked it from bottom to top, gathering your arousal on her tongue and tasting that spicy and salty flavour that was you, humming in approval while her tongue traced her lips, the deep carmine she was wearing smudging even more.
She was going to kill you. She might not murder you but she was going to be the death of you for sure with the things she was doing to you and she had yet to take the strap though she didn’t make you wait long. Happy with how wet it was she moved to straddle your hips, and with one hand on your stomach and the other holding onto the silicone cock she aligned it with her soaked pussy and lowered herself slowly, taking every inch until her ass was pressed against your skin, eyes rolling to the back of her head at the feeling of being filled so fucking well, needing a minute to adjust to the girth, your hands released from the spell enough so you could move them down to your side but could not touch her yet.
As frustrating as it was it still brought an element of control that translated in you being forced to beg to do simple things like grabbing her waist or getting your hands on her breasts and maybe that’s what she wanted. She knew just how obsessed you were with her tits and that you’d do anything for them. Slowly she lifted herself of the strap, both hands on your chest now, kneading your bosom lazily before she slammed down onto your hips, the deep grunt she made making your clit twitch, or maybe it was the magic on the strap, either way it was hot as fuck and you wanted to see her riding you over and over, her full breasts bouncing up and down.
You should have been an Olympian for sure at this point because the effort you were making not to make a sound when you could feel Lilia’s walls clinching around you, hot velvet wrapping your cock and swallowing it deep every time she slammed back down, could almost kill you at any moment. The room filled up with the sound of skin slapping skin and her dripping pussy quelching as she got fucked, moans, pants, groans and every other sound a human could make falling from her lips, eyes flickering open to stare at you, hands pinching your nipples when her brain remembered that she had them in her hands, though it was proving quite difficult when your cock was hitting every sweet spot inside her.
She had been close when she had taken it off and would take very little to make her orgasm and you knew, could feel it, not only as she gushed even more onto your own pussy under the harness but as she sped up and the rhythm, she had managed to achieve became floppy and uneven. Several minutes passed before you realised that the tension that had been pinning you to the bed was gone and in between grunts and moans Lilia was trying to speak, having to forcefully slow down to get the words out in one sentence.
-For fucks sakes Y/N, please, touch me.
You doubted she had meant to say it as harshly as it had sounded, speeding up once again, and in truth you didn’t mind even if she did because the reward of seeing her cumming was better than anything else. You moved your legs until your knees were bent, and your heels anchored onto the mattress, palms finally able to feel her hot skin, smooth and sweaty around her hips, curls falling off her hairdo with each movement, breasts bouncing hard, but they wouldn’t for much longer.
Thanks to Pilates your core was like iron and your hips thrusted up to match Lilia’s rhythm, the force making her fall forward and over your chest, screams of pleasure ripping from within her most primeval part of her as you matched her energy and strength and fucked her good. Just like she liked it. Hard, fast and hitting every spot with a power that sent jolts of pleasure all over her body. Luck was on your side because there was no way in hell that Lilia being as short as she was just so happened to fall on top of you in a way that let you take her nipples in your mouth, twirling and sucking while you pounded into her as much as she had been fucking you.
-Yes, please, don’t stop! Fuck, fill mama up with your cum! Fuck me good!
You realised one of her hands was between your bodies when you felt her right one grabbing onto your hair needing to hold onto something as the pleasure built higher and higher. She was touching her own clit as best she could while being pressed against you, her swollen bud so sensitive that the moment you lifted your hips once more, cock filling her up all the way down to the base and her nails scraped her clit her walls clenched all around you and the magic on the strap sent a wave of electricity through her that made her orgasm so hard, the silicone cock filling her up with your cum until her pussy was overfilled and began to drip onto the mattress. She had your juices deep inside her just how this slutty breeding witch liked it, stuffed and cumming all around you.
-Y/N!!! YESYESYESYESYESYES! FILL MAMA! FUCK!
Her whole body shook, and her hips slammed down onto yours in a mix of relief at finally free falling in between waves of lust and pleasure and to chase her high for as long as she could. What you found strange was the fact that the strap came with her orgasm, not with yours, or lack of one actually, even though the friction on your clit had very much been there all along and your whole body, not only your pussy, was begging to cum at last. The woman had enchanted you to be unable to have an orgasm unless she allowed it? You wouldn’t put it past her.
Lilia’s vision had gone white for a few seconds, eyes rolling to the back of her head and throat raw and hoarse from screaming, the fire that had spread all over her frame, from her toes to the top of her head, burning hotter than the one she had experienced when you had eaten her out, leaving her flushed and dizzy for an instant. Like a well-trained dog you didn’t stop sucking on her tits or fucking her hard, your teeth biting down softly on her nipples before taking the sensitive skin of her breast, leaving hickeys and bruises on as much skin as you could find given that you couldn’t move much. After an eternity of spams and walls clenching around your cock Lilia finally flopped on top of you breathing hard, her limbs feeling like a mix of melted butter and gelatine, weak but quite satisfied, at least for the next few minutes.
When you felt your wife’s movements slowing down your hands moved to rub her back, hips keeping still and you mouth releasing her tits to kiss the valley between her breasts and collarbones until her whole weight forced you to move your head to the side so she wouldn’t suffocate you. The world had faded into nothing as her brain turned off and back on, systems restarting and your hands caressing and cradling her until she was able to move, the gentleness of your touch and the love that you poured onto every peck you gave her shoulder bringing a soft smile to her lips, eyes still closed so her body could calm down.
She knew she was safe like this, in your arms, protected as her magic flickered but still floated lazily around the room waiting for a signal to tie you down again, or do worse. Lilia could stay like this for as long as she wanted and you wouldn’t move one inch. And that was exactly what you did for around five minutes or so, your wife finally pushing herself onto her elbows, so her face was level with yours, all that furious power blended into a caring shadow of love, her doe eyes still dilated but looking at you with a tender gaze.
-It took you long, but you learnt to be quiet. Very well done, doll.
-Thank you, my lady.
-I think a reward is in order, though with a little twist I’m sure you’ll like.
Oh? Your eyebrow rose in a questioning manner as she sat back down, shivering at the feeling of the strap moving while still inside her, your cum and hers mixing down her thighs as she let it slip out, whinnying at the loss but you’d fix that. With a snap of her fingers the strap on was removed from your body and appeared on the ground, right on top of what was left of your dress and instead of Lilia moving down between your legs she got oof your body and crawled back until she was right were your head was, your eyes watching her every move with curiosity. With her back to the headboard, she swept a leg over your face until her pussy was once again hoovering over your head and instead of staying still like she had done before she bent forward until her breasts were pressed against your lower abdomen and her face was inches away from your throbbing cunt.
Classic 69 you thought, one of your favourite moves and since Lilia was in charge you decided to wait until she made the first move in case, she got mad and left you without cumming. Her tongue leaped at your folds with one long swipe, humming in approval and gathering your arousal like she had done before, swallowing and dipping back to suck on them, moans and whines finally making their way out of your mouth, though you kept your own tongue busy. The cocktail of her cum and yours dripping from within her pussy was the perfect drink and so fucking hot that made you gush onto Lilia’s mouth, her moans reverberating onto your cunt sending vibrations all over your body like waves of lava.
She was oversensitive and you were already so close and edged that even her breath on your clit could send you over the edge, but you’d wait for her, as horrible and torturing as that may be. Her lips wrapped around your clit sucking hard, the swollen bundle reacting fast to her ministrations, your tongue flickering hers while your fingers pushed into her and curled good to hit that sweet spot, fingers coated in her wet mess. Lilia’s movements faltered at the feeling, a weird mxi between a moan and a whimper escaping her without warning but she powered through and kept sucking you hard until your walls began to clench around nothing, three fingers being pushed into your needy pussy.
And you took them like the good slut you were. Fucking each other, slurping and sucking, the noises of your wet pussies echoing inside the room, windows fogging up, your orgasms were beginning to reach their peaks, your throat producing grunts and pants while Lilia yelped and whined higher and higher, a pressure forming in her lower abdomen while you fucked her. You were so fucking close already and needed her to cum as well, pumping your finger in and out and practically biting down on her clit as her mouth didn’t stop eating you out, clit throbbing and pussy clenching hard around her fingers.
Suddenly Lilia’s yelps got even higher and her mouth pressed hard onto your pussy as her orgasm slammed onto her without warning like a tsunami that took over her movements but this time she didn’t just cum on your face, she squirted all over you and your hand, your fingers trying to move while she poured her juices onto your waiting mouth, your tongue still flickering her clit.
She shook so bad that you were worried you might have gone too far but the idea vanished fast when she but down on your bundle of nerves and your orgasm finally exploded in a million fireworks, screaming her name onto her pussy while still eating her out the best you could while riding your orgasm, both your hips and hers rolling so the two of you could grind onto each other’s faces. After a few seconds Lilia’s pussy stopped her stream of juices, her body collapsing over you, her breath on your pulsing cunt as the high of your orgasm passed, her clit pressed against your lips as you flopped as well.
Lilia didn’t care one bit that she had her face in your pussy and that she could feel your walls clenching once in a while around the fingers that were still inside you, bot of you spent and satisfied. Okay, maybe you could cum one more time, but your wife was already done, and you were not going to push your needs onto her. There would be plenty of time for you to ride her and control her soon enough. Minutes passed before either of you could move, your whole frame sore and trembling, Lilia shaking as she rolled of and onto her back, both whining at the loss of each other’s fingers. Well, you hadn’t planned for this when you had suggested going trick or treating, much less when you bought those apples. You had to find that stall next year and leave a fucking awesome tip.
-You okay? – Lilia’s voice was decently hoarse and just as shaky as she was, but she still asked, and after the things she had done to you it warmed your heart.
-Yeah. Are you okay?
-I don’t think I can walk right now but yes. I’m very okay.
You recovered faster even though your orgasm had been strong and had been building for so long, and since Lilia had been rendered useless for a bit you lifted yourself and laid on your stomach beside her, your hand pushing the damp curls off her face. It was funny, you were the one drenched in cum, and you were worried about a random strand of hair bothering her when she was this sweaty. She could stab you with a knife or cut off an arm and you’d still love her, thankfully though Lilia would never do that, so you didn’t have to worry.
Her eyes slowly opened up, her chocolate irises focusing on your face through thick eyelashes, lipstick ruined but still smiling lovingly. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath she took, heart hammering against her ribs, her right hand lifting off the mattress until the back of it was pressed on your cheek, soft but wet, your make up smeared. You were both a mess, but a happy one. With a kind grip you took her hand and left a gentle kiss on her palm, shuffling closer until your lips could connect with hers, the kiss tender and slow. There was no need to rush anything or to overwhelm her when she could not take another round. Maybe with a break round two could come around at the witching hour.
-You are kind of damp around the hairline, doll.
-I wonder why. – this time she laughed, a loud and free laugh, not a hint of embarrassment or shame in her tone. It brought a bigger smile to your face. – I’ll go to the bathroom to wash my face and then come with a towel to clean you up.
-Don’t bother. I can use my magic for that.
-You are tired, I don’t mind doing it the mortal way. Give me just a minute. Be right back.
With a peck on her lips you hopped of the bed, maybe a tad too fast because your vision turned blurry for a moment and you had to stay still for a second or two before making your way to the bathroom. The light flickered on, a white halo covering every inch of the room, catching your reflection on the mirror when you went on to grab hand towel. There were bruises on your arms, legs and waist from the ropes and more would probably appear as the days went by, but it wasn’t so bad, it’s not like she had hurt you on purpose.
Lilia heard the water running for a moment, her mind still foggy but becoming more aware of everything around her, moonlight breaking through the windows, bathing her in its warm halos while you did your thing in the bathroom. The cherry tree in the garden had never looked more beautiful, its pale pink flowers soaking up every ounce of moonlight they could find until each looked like perfect silver petals that fell and swayed onto the ground in a slow dance, cars beginning to frost, the green grass fading into yellow in some patches. A few moments later you returned with a damp towel, hopping back in bed.
You didn’t need words, voluntarily keeping silent while you cleaned off your wife’s face, both from your cum and the ruined make up, the cooling sensation of the fabric welcome when her body had been on the verge of combusting spontaneously. You slid it over her arms and legs, tenderly rubbing on her breasts before parting her legs and taking care of the mess she had unexpectedly made, making sure to not touch her pussy more than necessary when she was oversensitive and could cause her pain.
-Thank you.
-You don’t need to thank me Lils. You’ve done this to me a million times before, I can do it to you another million times.
-You know I love you, don’t you? Like a lot.
-I know, trust me. There, done. – with a clean and happy Lilia you could finally lay down and grab the sheets to cover the two of you, taking her hand in your, your head resting over her shoulder. – I love you too.
-I think I’ve become a huge fan of Halloween. We need to do this again next year.
-We can go as a famous couple so we can match. What do you think about mob boss and member of the mafia?
-Just because I’m Sicilian doesn’t mean I’m involved with that you know?
-I know but you’d look so hot like a mob boss. Better than a mob wife and I can be your faithful guard or something.
-I’ll think about it. Don’t give me any ideas you might regret. – she shifted under the covers to look at you, her lips inches from your, a hand on your cheek as she spoke. – Everything comes with surprises, or consequences and I’m very Sicilian, amore.
-I’ll take the risk.
This kiss was harder, as if Lilia was making a point or a promise, and you accepted whatever fate life had for you, the sweetness of the candy apple lingering very lightly under the flavour of your juices in her mouth. You didn’t need anything else in the universe, just having Lilia pecking your neck lightly between comments about the evening, your arms wrapped tightly around her waist to keep her close, was more than enough.
She told you about the pretty plate she had purchased and how she hoped it would fit with the autumn set she was creating from thrifted utensils, your fingers playing with her curls while removing every pin and pearl so her scalp could rest, Lilia’s hands gesturing with every word she said, unable to keep them still. She told you about how she had felt when she saw the girl, when kids saw the wisps that you had forgotten completely about, the little fires floating close to the ceiling with very little to do, just drifting from side to side. She felt no shame or hurt, only love and appreciation, telling you how maybe there was still hope for people like her to live happy and tranquil lives, that maybe if the world didn’t fear them, people would let them help.
She spoke about Alice and her job protecting people, about Jen bringing lives into the world and healing those that were already here, about how even she could bring comfort to those who suffered from loss and help those who feared their futures, pasts haunting them. Running your hands through her free curls after a few minutes of untangling them you looked down at her relaxed face, the things that had occurred that evening healing something in her heart that had been broken a long time ago, letting her be happy without worry. You hadn’t noticed the way her eyes had been following every single bruise her magic had left on your body and she couldn’t leave you like that. She pushed herself into a sitting position, the bedsheet falling and gathering around her hips.
-You look like you’ve fallen down a thousand stairs. You should have told me the binds were too tight.
-They weren’t. I liked how the were so why bother? They will go away, don’t worry.
-Nonsense. I have a balm Jennifer gave me on my nightstand.
Would fighting with her get you anywhere? No. Would she still kneel on the bed and open the top drawer to get the little metal tin no matter what you said? Yes. Might as well sooth her worries and let her do this. It was in her nurturing nature after all. You were both past the embarrassment of being naked after sex in the presence of each other and in truth she needed you like this to put the ointment on you, the pink cream inside holding a strong smell. At first you though it to be something like cedar but it was too sweet to be a fully forest aroma, so it had to be a blend of some wood like oak and maybe maple or vanilla. You had no clue, but it was nice and refreshing as Lilia’s fingers applied it tenderly on each line without missing even a spot, making you turn your body so she could get to the back of your legs and hips.
-I did not expect this to be honest. If they had been ropes…
-They would have made me bleed. It’s okay Lils. If there’s ever a thing I don’t like, I’ll tell you. I can’t have my favourite witch upset.
-That’s Agatha’s job. – in reality Lilia held the woman close to her heart, like a daughter that needed to be guided and loved and the purple witch held Lilia in high regards and respected her, something that was quite hard to achieve. Sometimes Rio didn’t have that, but Lilia played in a different league. Your wife chuckled in amusement as she finished applying the balm on your shoulder. – Now we are both taken care off. Feels okay?
-Feels great. Come on my little Sicilian witch, let’s get some rest.
-Don’t you plan on getting the fangs off?
-If the candy didn’t manage to rip them out, I’m afraid they are part of me now. Would you love me with fake fangs?
-I love you in every shape and form my little vampire.
-I love you too my naughty witch.
Naughty? She was a perfect angel, Lilia thought, though the laugh that escaped her hoarse throat and melted on your lips said otherwise, a contented sigh reaching your ears, blending with your happy chuckles.
Just a note: I have a Halloween Lilia fic on the works. I'm 11k words I but I've had an extremely busy week and haven't been able to work on it as much but I'm trying to finish it so I can get it out in the next few days. Sorry, I'm trying.
Posting this now so that it'll give people enough time to find it and fill out the form. Participants must be 18+ for this event. Sfw and nsfw fics are allowed and preferences can be specified on the form. The deadline for applying is 7 November so I have enough time to assign everyone a secret person and consider everyone's preferences accordingly <3
Feel free to reblog or tag your favourite Patti writers in the comments. The more the merrier!
True that I saw her hair like the branch of a tree
Pairing: Lilia Calderu x reader
Summary: Autumn had finally arrived, and with that, sweet moments that you could share with your loved one, rain bathing the ground while vanilla and cinammon floated in the air.
Warnings: romance, pure fluff, cuddles, watching films, Autumn vibes.
Authors note: I know I've been away for a while but my thesis is done, I'm officially a paleontologist and so now I have time to write, so I will slowly get back into it. I had this lovely idea thanks to a friend and although it's short I thought you all might like it (I promise I'll make them longer if you all prefer that). I have a Halloween fic on the works for Lilia and I'm working on "Have I earned it, mother?" so I'm hoping to get everything out slowly. Hope you all like it and as always I accept requests and suggestions and feedback are welcome. Love you all. Also available on Ao3
True that I saw her hair like the branch of a tree
Watching from the kitchen window you saw that your pumpkins were growing well this year, round and fat over the damp dirt, big raspy leaves spreading around trees and archways like they owned them, a feeling of pride warming your chest at the sight. You had planted them in early spring along with courgettes and tomatoes and as that chill in the air settled and the weather turned rainy and cozy with tender warmth instead of stifling heat your little babies begun to turn into soft yellow and orange tone while getting bigger and rounder. That and the smell of rain and cinnamon that floated all over the cottage were the perfect welcome to Autumn. It had been over two years since you and Lilia had moved from the back of her shop to a proper house that the both of you owned, paid by pocket thanks to a small win in the lottery as well as part of the savings the two of you had collected in over a decade, making a simple cottage that had needed some renovations, into a home. White walls on the outside to keep cool during Summer, gentle yellows, peaches and greens making the rooms bright and inviting as the cold tiles moved onto laminated floors, but all that was superficial in truth, it was the small details that made it perfect. For the first time in centuries Lilia could show off all the things she had collected and been given since she had been a child, hanging paintings she had never been able to sell and planting seeds of trees that hadn’t been seen in over a hundred years, your books and little clay figures resting next to pictures and vases, shoes by the front door and blankets sprawled over lovely grey sofas that Agatha had gifted the two of you after seeing that you were reading on mountains of cushions.
Bit by bit, pay check by pay check the two of you had built something beautiful that you were now standing on dressed in one of Lilia’s jumpers, the light brown one with ducks holding cups, as you waited for the tea in the pot to finish brewing. On the worn kitchen table, a tray waited with sweets and a lovely set of hand painted teacups, the sound of Lilia shuffling in the living room floating across the hall into your ears like a soft blanket wrapping around your shoulders in the most comforting manner, her hands around your waist in phantom touches that you carried on your skin at all times. Work was over for the week, all chores had been crossed off the list and the soft tapping of rain against the kitchen window was the signal you had been waiting for weeks to stay home and have a nice and quiet afternoon with your wife enjoying Halloween films and Autumn shows without any interruptions. Getting Lilia to enjoy Halloween had been a feast that not even an Olympian would have dared face but you liked a challenge and you couldn’t let her push away every festivity, even if she had seen their creation and evolution into what everyone knew nowadays, the patriarchal touch on everything preventing Lilia from actually seeing the joy and meaning behind what men had caused, and every year you could see her opening up to traditions she had once forgotten or refused to engage in, logs burning in the chimney and sage hanging from every window in some sort of ceremony you were yet to be introduced to.
Your phone vibrated in your pocket breaking your train of thought, the mental image of Lilia in one of her summer nightgowns tying small bouquets of sage in the garden as dawn broke in between the trees that lined the property, the golden glow bathing her figure matching her perfectly resplendent magic as it had swirled around her, the fabric that had dressed her body in translucent silk allowing you to drink in the shape of her curves, getting smaller and smaller in your head. It would forever live in your head until time began to erase its edges and the colour faded into twilight shades, a moment that could not be preserved with a camera should it never be able to capture its beauty and meaning. The alarm you had set for the teapot was now going off, vibrating like crazy until you pulled out your phone and dismissed it, putting a Halloween Town cover over the white porcelain before placing it on the tray and picking it up, making your way to the living room with slow steps as not to make the pot topple over and shatter, the icing on the homemade cinnamon rolls sliding off the side of the pastries onto the plate, the pumpkin spice and chocolate cookies clinking against the glass jar. The trek to the living room was short; you just had to cross the hallway towards an archway decorated with golden and amber maple leaves that separated the foyer and the living area to get to Lilia, her voice carrying from room to room as she browsed the catalogue Netflix had to offer.
-Do you fancy something romantic or more comedic?
-Don’t know, maybe both? You can choose whatever you like Lils, I don’t mind, but we are not watching “Gilmore Girls” until Alice comes back from her police training next week. We wouldn’t hear the end of it if we even tried to start a new episode without her.
-I wasn’t going to offer that one Y/N, don’t worry. I was thinking of maybe an Addams Family marathon? – doe eyes settled on your form as she turned her body to look at you over the back of the couch, golden sparkles dancing in her oak irises the same shape as the raindrops that fell outside, messy peppery curls perched on top of her head lazily to the point that some strands were cascading down her back, perfectly coiled around her neck, others framing her face, her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink from the warmth in the room. For a moment you could not tear your eyes off of her, falling in love with the soft freckles on her cheeks and nose as the light in the room bathed her in a sweet amber glow, lips the shade of freshly picked cherries, sweet with a slight taste of something spicy that you had never found in anyone else. You could have spent a lifetime just watching her, but the tray was heavy, and Lilia was tilting her head, one of her eyebrows raising in a questioning manner.
-That would be lovely. Anything you want is lovely.
-Please, it’s just a film doll, it’s not like I’m choosing my wedding dress.
-You already did that honey, and it was beautiful.
-Oh, shut up you. Just sit down.
Peppery curls bounced as she settled back into the white and green cushions, your fluffy grey blanket covering her legs over her red and blue gown, a thick golden shawl draped over her shoulders but that was all unimportant, the red tone on her cheeks and the way her ears glowed pink giving away the feeling of bashfulness that had her pursing her lips to keep from smiling as bright as the stars at your words. It was just so easy to make her blush. Keeping your pace steady you made your way around the couch towards the coffee table setting the tray gently over the cherry blossom wood as you watched her from the corner of her eye fighting off a smile. To give her some time to collect herself you picked up the pot and placed it on top of a green tea towel over the table, next to Lilia’s pink phone that rested beside some books about divination that looked to be about a hundred years old. With delicate hands rich amber liquid poured out of it, your fingers resting on the handle and the porcelain bottom, heat warming up your cold skin in soft waves, steam twisting in the air until it began to fade around your skin, the aroma of vanilla and earl grey mixing perfectly with that of the sweet treats you had made. Before Lilia could even move from the couch you had picked up her cup and saucer and had turned to hand it over, rings clinking against porcelain when she picked it up though she did kiss your cheek as a thank you and maybe as a way to show you that she had appreciated your previous compliment, either way it made you smile and work slightly faster on your own cup before moving to sit beside her.
Finding comfort and peace has never been an easy feast for either of you but now it was as if nothing could ever break the bond between you and Lilia and therefore the calming aura that she carried and that seeped into your bones, almost down to the atoms that formed your being. As easy as it was to breathe and blink. You could see it in the way she nursed the cup of tea in between her hands, her eyes closed as she let the sweet aroma travel deep into her lungs, in the way her shoulders remained relaxed at all times under the golden fabric, in the way her eyes radiated love and understanding every time she looked at you, and it all came from her very soul and made you melt into her homely love without ever putting up a fight. Not that you would ever need to. Everything you loved so much in Lilia came from the sense of safety and security you provided her with and that translated on her allowing you things that she wouldn’t even consider with others, not even with Jen and Alice. She didn’t care if you decorated the entire house with pumpkins and ghosts all year round or if you planted maple trees in the garden that bloomed into glorious reds when the weather got cold, because she wanted you to be happy above everything else and if all that made you happy she would buy them for you and help you plant them, water them and dust them as long as that smile you wore whenever she was around never faltered.
Her beloved incense had made way for candles that smelt like caramel apples and pecan pies, and the kitchen was always full of soups and cookies in every shape and form that spooky season allowed, boxes of Halloween decorations waiting in the garage for October to arrive and in those little details was where Lilia found pieces of your love, even if some of her things had been pushed to her tarot room or to secluded spots in the living room. She found your love in every time you tried to make cute shapes on the cream of her coffee, in every slightly burnt crust of your pumpkin pies that she ate without complaint, in every crooked ghost and bat that was glued to the kitchen cabinets or the cushion covers you were trying to knit, and she loved every single one of them. Rich tones of black tea gathered on her tongue, the gentle flavour of vanilla accompanying the earl grey as she swallowed, watching from the corner of her eye the way you climbed on to the couch rearranging cushions until you were comfortable with where they were juggling your cup of tea in your left hand before finally plopping down next to her, bending forward to get the cookie jar like your life depended on it. The chuckle that escaped Lilia didn’t go unnoticed by you, your eyes shooting her a warning but playful look, but she didn’t say a word, only stretched her hand and picked up a broken witch hat filled with chocolate and bit softly into it.
The irony of the cookie wasn’t lost on her and although once upon a time it would have made her heart ache for a normalcy that wasn’t within her reach, her powers a curse in her out of line life, nowadays she didn’t mind. She actually was quite fond of these cookies because she knew that every hat was hers to enjoy and you had baked them with as much love as you could muster and she could never find an evil bone in your body, not when it came to her. You wasted no time picking up the other half, locking eyes with Lilia as you took a small bite from it. She might be slightly broken, like the cookie, and she might never fully heal from certain things, but she didn’t care anymore; you carried the other half of herself in your hands and heart even if you didn’t realise because in her eyes there was no need for a physical proof of such a thing. Magic didn’t need to be shown to be felt. Lilia’s powers travelled through your veins with each touch, caressed your skin the same way her fingers traced your jawline or rubbed the back of your hand, floating around the room in sparkles of gold that brought warmth and electricity to the air in every room she was in, feeling as if she was kissing you every second of every day, holding you and making the darkness vanish into the ether.
Like a happy puppy you pressed your body against hers, her arm moving to wrap around your shoulders and pull you close to her chest, Lilia’s cup of tea resting on her lap in a precarious balance, your legs bent under the blanket while the cookie jar stelled in between the two of you. Resting your head on her shoulder you breathed her vanilla and incense perfume that seeped from her clothes, her peppery curls brushing against your cheek mixing her citrusy shampoo with everything else, a touch that seemed to whisper summer amongst the colder season, floating from her skin and perfect hair in that fragrance that always gathered what few troubling thoughts you had and was able to put them to rest. You were in her arms, at home, safe and warm and there was no other place where you rather be.
-I’m warning you from now, I won’t do bathroom breaks until the end of the first film, so make that cup last at least two hours.
-But it will get cold.
-I’ll warm it up for you, but I’m not pausing the film because I know that you are going to get sidetracked and I don’t want to lose the plot of the film until you come back from restoring our bathroom.
-I don’t get that sidetracked !
-You do honey., but it’s okay, - the hand that had been holding the remote a few moments ago travelled to your cheek, her fingertips tapping your skin lightly, thought that simple touch, innocent as it seemed, perhaps slightly wicked if the twinkling in her eyes meant anything, left electricity under your flesh. - you can’t be perfect like me.
-Oh, shut up you witch.
-I’m not just a witch; I’m the witch, doll.
-Then I expect you to dress up as the witch for Halloween this year.
-We shall see amore, now shush. Addam’s family time
-You’d be a hot witch with one of those pointy hats and black tights.
-I am a hot witch all year around for your information. And no shut up or we are watching Ben Hur instead.
-Divine mother, no! I’m silent. Zipped. No more talking.