Chapter 35
Chapter 35
The warning hung heavy. Urik reached across and squeezed her hand briefly in gratitude. “We know. That’s why we have you watching our backs.”
A comfortable silence fell as they finished their tea. The bath Elara had prepared in the adjacent chamber waited, steam curling invitingly. Melek stood first, pulling Urik up with him.
“Come, love. Let’s wash the evidence away… or add to it.”
Elara rolled her eyes but smiled. “I’ll stand guard at the door. Try not to flood the tower.”
In the bathing chamber, the large stone tub glowed with faint magical light. Melek stripped Urik slowly, reverently, kissing every new mark he had left earlier. When they sank into the hot water, the incubus pulled Urik onto his lap, back to chest. The water lapped around them as Melek’s hands explored lazily, soaping broad shoulders and tracing runes.
“You feel it too, don’t you?” Melek murmured, lips against Urik’s ear. His cock, already half-hard again, nestled between Urik’s cheeks. “The hunger. Not just mine anymore. Yours.”
Urik leaned his head back, groaning softly as Melek’s soapy hand wrapped around his length, stroking with deliberate slowness. “It scares me how much I crave this—crave you—when everything else is falling apart.”
“Good,” Melek growled, nipping his earlobe. “Fear keeps you sharp. Now let me feed properly.”
He guided Urik to turn, bracing him against the tub’s edge. The water made everything slick as Melek pressed in again, slower this time, savoring every inch. Urik’s moan echoed off the stone walls, raw and unrestrained. Melek fucked him with deep, rolling thrusts, one hand around Urik’s throat in light possession, the other working his cock.
The mark blazed silver between them, pleasure doubling and redoubling until Urik came with a shout, spilling into the water. Melek followed moments later, flooding him with another rush of demonic essence that made the bond sing.
They stayed joined for long minutes, breathing together. When they finally separated and dried off, Elara was waiting with fresh clothes and a knowing look.
“Feel better?” she asked dryly.
“Much,” Urik replied, voice still husky. He pulled on a clean tunic, already thinking ahead. “Tomorrow we send scouts. Melek starts the dream-weaving. And I… I wake the deeper parts of the forest.”
Elara nodded. “Then rest tonight. You’ll need your strength.”
As she left them alone once more, Melek drew Urik into bed, bodies entwining under furs. The incubus’s tail wrapped around Urik’s ankle—a constant anchor.
“Sleep, my lord,” Melek whispered. “Dream of victory. I’ll keep the nightmares at bay… and wake you if the hunger returns.”
Urik closed his eyes, the mark a warm pulse against his skin. Outside, the Forest of Whispering Shadows stirred, as if answering the call to war. The Council had made its move. Now the real game began—one of shadows, blood, and insatiable desire.
Midnight had fallen over the tower like a heavy mantle. The library, still marked by the scent of sex and melted wax, had been left behind. Now the three of them were in the heart of the structure: the ritual chamber on the upper floor, a circular space whose walls were carved with ancient runes that glowed faintly in silver and crimson. Black candles burned in bone candelabras, and the stone floor was marked with a summoning circle that Urik had reinforced with his own blood hours earlier.
Melek paced slowly around the circle, his truest form beginning to manifest. His curved horns seemed larger, sharper, and small membranous wings of black leather unfurled slightly at his back. His tail lashed the air with contained agitation, and his red eyes glowed like living embers.
“It’s time to stop hiding, Urik,” he said, his voice deeper, laced with demonic resonance. “You’ve only felt a fraction of what I am. An incubus is not merely a demon of desire. I am hunger incarnate. I live on the vital essence that pleasure tears from souls. The stronger the ecstasy I provoke… or receive… the more powerful I become.”
Urik knelt at the center of the circle, torso bare, the silver mark on his chest pulsing in response to Melek’s proximity. He lifted his gaze, without fear—only dark determination.
“Then show me everything. I don’t want half-measures in this alliance. If we’re going to bring down the Council, I need to know exactly what I’m binding myself to.”
Melek stopped in front of him. The shadows seemed to bow around him.
“The Council fears creatures like me because we cannot be controlled by decrees or gold. They hunt us, trap us in artifacts, or exile us to empty dimensions. But here…” He touched the mark on Urik’s chest with the tip of a claw. “…here I have found a worthy vessel. A warlock whose rage and power feed my hunger like no other.”
Elara sat just outside the circle, legs crossed, the ancient tome in her lap. Her brown eyes watched with vigilant attention, without judgment. She was the anchor, the friend who kept their feet on the ground even when desire threatened to consume them.