Page 67 of Courting the Dragon King

Konrad panted. His dick lay, wet and gleaming, against his thigh. He looked very sated.

I did that.

Konrad reached a hand towards him. “Come here and kiss me.”

Smiling, Wraith climbed on top of him and kissed him.

For several moments, they lay in the sun in the middle of the field, lost in each other’s mouths. Konrad’s warm, calloused hands roamed Wraith’s back. Wraith sighed into the kiss.

A wail caused them to pull apart. They looked in the direction of a high-pitched cry that followed. The procession walked along the road. And the road curved through the field in their direction.

Wraith jumped up, tugging his clothes into order. Meanwhile Konrad dressed in hurried movements. They both glanced at the villagers. Thankfully they were not that close yet and Wraith currently blocked Konrad, who had not finished dressing.

Cries and moans of anguish rose up from the people as they walked.

“What do you think is happening?” Konrad asked.

But Wraith already knew. “It’s a funeral procession.”

Chapter

Thirty-Three

The villagers wore their everyday clothing beneath their beige shawls, the colour of which matched the robes of the Monks of the Way of the Dove. They even had little doves sewn onto the shawls too.

Wraith and Konrad stood silently by the road, watching the procession approach. The wailing and crying grew louder. Wraith inclined his head as they passed. Konrad did the same. Many glanced in their direction but paid them no mind otherwise. They were too absorbed in their mourning.

Konrad sucked in a breath.

But Wraith was too focused on the crying little girl to pay Konrad much mind.

She was young. Perhaps only four or five. Dark hair hung loose around her shoulders. She wore clothing in a similar style to the others, except without the shawl.

She looked like one of the villagers. Except she was very much dead, her skin and body foggy and translucent, sapped of the colouring of the living.

The little ghost girl ran after a man at the front of the group. He had his head and shoulders bowed. Tears steadily fell down his cheeks and disappeared into his scraggly beard.

“Daddy!” the ghost child cried out, stumbling behind him. “Daddy!” she screamed.

Wraith’s chest clenched. She did not know or understand that she was dead.

The procession continued on. But the little girl collapsed into the dirt, weeping as the people she’d known in life walked past and through her. She wailed and sobbed.

“Wraith?” Konrad shook his shoulder.

Wraith glanced at him. Then he realised that Konrad had been speaking to him and Wraith had not been listening.

“I need to do something.” Then Wraith stepped forward into the road. “Umbra. I need you,” he whispered. “Come to me. Come to me now.”

She appeared immediately by his side. “I’m here!” She pressed against him. Wraith placed a hand on her head.

The little girl sobbed into her knees. The procession had moved on. Wraith knelt before her.

“Hello, little one. My name is Wraith. What’s your name?”

She lifted her head slightly, wiping at her eyes and cheeks. “I’m Mary. You can see me?”

Wraith smiled. “Yes. I can see you.”