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CHAPTER ONE
REI
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I sat on my stone-cold floor in front of a small, cracked mirror, chopping off long locks of my rainbow hair. Blue, green, yellow, orange, pink, and purple strands piled up to my left beside my leg until they towered over my knee. Finally, I was satisfied I had gathered enough enchanted hair to hand over to the wizard in case my escape plans failed.
Humming gently, I began stirring the contents of a metal pot to my right, a strange concoction gurgling within: ruby-red solar flare petals, the snow-white leaves from a mighty everfrost tree, and prism root boiling in hot water. I sprinkled in some brown nut shells to complete the potion.
The tiny blue flame underneath the levitating kitchenware was my doing. It was the fruits of my labor, spending long years in solitude perfecting my natural-born proficiency for magic.
“Laalaalaa lalalalaaa lalaaaaa,” my voice rose higher and higher, crescendoing as the flame sputtered to life.
With my haunting, bewitching melody, I urged the blue light to burn hotter and brighter. The pungent potion brewing in secret was an all-natural answer to my most pressing problem–finding a way to dye my enchanted hair when I escaped the clutches of my kidnapper before midnight struck.
I’d figure out a way to saw off the pink horn adorning my forehead another day.
“Laaaaaa la la lala,” I whispered, tuning down the flame with the decrescendo of my voice, the air sucked out of the room, my magic and the elements working in unison.
I had to work quickly, for the sun was already beginning to set outside the small glassless window above my head. It was the only source of natural light within my prison. Despite the homely bed, worn clothes, books, tools, and a three-legged stool in my bedroom, which gave the illusion that I was home, it was all a lie.
In truth, I was imprisoned by a deranged wizard. One I was desperately trying to outwit as darkness blanketed the wilderness beyond my tower upon a high hill.
“Lalala laaa laaa!” I chanted, the potion finally settling into a lush black hue.
I forced the flame to disappear as I allowed the pot to touch the floor without lifting a finger to assist its descent. Satisfied I’d finally brewed the perfect invisibility elixir, I got to work testing it out.
With a grin, I grabbed a bundle of my hair. It glittered all the colors of the rainbow, having sucked up my magic before being cut off. I dipped the strands into the obsidian water and almost shouted for joy.
As I pulled my sopping wet hair out of the water, it was no longer every shade imaginable. No, it was a uniform, glorious black that would disappear, blending in with the shadows once I made it to the woods!
“Freedom!” I shouted before slamming my hand over my mouth, almost afraid to voice what I had longed for, for so very long.
I had gathered everything for the elixir through trickery. For months, I had begged and pleaded for bits and pieces of the things I needed for the spell as my captor gathered them on my behalf, none the wiser to my plans.
Finally, my hard work had paid off. I spun like a child, laughing manically in the darkness, candlelight fading as rapidly as the moon rose. I still had a few hours before Gotham, my monstrous master, would arrive, but that still didn’t feel like enough time to pull off my disguise.
Spinning some more, careful not to knock over the pot, I flopped onto my bed with a shout. Naked, as usual, I allowed my mind to wander, imagining what I would do once I hacked off my long hair, permanently dyed what remained, and removed my horn, disappearing through the woods until I reached civilization in the capital city of Tilri.
When I was younger, my answer might have been to find my parents, but they were long dead. A few years ago, before I matured, I might have answered my question by saying I’d learn a trade or see if all the stories in my books were true.
Now, however? All I wanted to do was find someone to cure the ache between my legs, especially now, as heat flushed my skin, my mind no longer focused on potioncraft.
I leaned back, head propped up on a pillow, and stroked my bare stomach, fighting the budding urge to wrap my hand around my cock and pump hard.
As I grew older, my isolation became more unbearable. It was the absolute worst during nights like tonight when I felt a bone-deep ache for something I couldn’t even name. I had only my hand and my imagination at my disposal to quell the rush of heat that coursed through me every month when the moon was full and my body burned with lust.
The aroma from my potion bathed the air, repressing the scent of my pheromones. But the smell couldn’t switch off the part of me that longed for a fairytale to materialize on my bed.
I envisioned the ghost of a lover’s touch, a future beyond the stale stone-gray walls of my bedroom to get off. While fully awake, I dreamt of a prince from one of my stories, a mighty alpha warlord at first, who transformed into a rugged knight in shining armor as I finally surrendered to my baser instincts.
I could spare a few minutes, a tiny reward, before I fled. At least, that’s the lie I told myself as I cradled my balls with one hand and pumped my shaft hard with the other, caressing myself, embarrassed by the wetness that built lower near my bum.
Jerking, gritting my teeth, I made quick work of my erection, coming hard. And as I came down from my high, I felt worse than I did before, my heat stronger than before.
