Page 201 of Vasmora

Without question, she did as he commanded, her ass in his face, hands braced at his stomach.

“You enjoyed my torment. Why else would you have given me your seed?”

He gripped Maevyth’s cheeks and wet his tongue. In slow, impatient circles, he licked her entrance, lapping up her arousal, and dipped his tongue inside.

Molten lava washed over his groin, the pain so intense, his muscles clenched.

Maevyth flinched against his palm, and she let out an agonized moan. Her nails pierced his skin, sending a hot, searing burn across his stomach that shattered every thought in his head.

His body shuddered, the burn fading, melting into pure pleasure as the wound she’d slashed silenced that voice. A euphoric calm settled over him, and he dragged her closer, flicking his tongue with fervor. Tasting her. Savoring her.

She curled her fingers into his muscles, her nails tearing through his focus, and Zevander moaned against her flesh.

Thighs trembling in his grasp, she panted, squirming. Clawing. She cried out, the sound of her release pouring through his mind like a summer rain washing away the drought.

Zevander smiled against her and loosened his grip, letting her collapse beside him. He licked his lips, staring down at himself, the blood smeared across his stomach only stoking his longing to be inside her. With a tug of her arm, he yanked her onto his body before she could catch a glimpse of the gore. If she only knew what it meant for him. How she quieted the noise in his head.

Eyes hooded, she stared down at him, a weak smile pulling at her lips. So fucking breathtaking, an ache throbbed in his chest.

A soft warmth engulfed his cock as he slid inside of her. He cradled her face in his hands, staring up at her. A goddess incarnate.

His moon witch.

Perhaps the voice in his head would never silence for good, but Zevander was certain of one thing.

His love was louder. Stronger.

Unbreakable.

* * *

Standing with his knee propped on the window ledge, Zevander stared out at the endless stretch of darkness, watching for any sign of movement at the crest of the hill, where faint moonlight illuminated the edge of the world. Beyond it, he imagined chaos.

Chaos he’d helped sow.

He couldn’t even feel remorse for it. If given the choice all over again, he’d have chosen Maevyth’s safety every time. His only regret was finding out that Loyce had waited on the other side, when she’d passed through to Aethyria.

Zevander stared down at his hands, wishing he could’ve felt the life slowly bleed out of the wretch.

At the sound of moaning, Zevander turned to see the bedsheets crumpled in Maevyth’s tight grip, her teeth clenched as she shook undoubtedly lost to nightmares.

“No,” she murmured. “Don’t hurt him.”

He winced at that, shame chewing at him all over again. It didn’t surprise him that Loyce had kept souvenirs of his torture, but the fact that she’d used them to torment Maevyth stirred rage inside of him.

He crossed the room, slipping beneath the sheets beside her. “Hey, I’m here,” he whispered, gathering her in his arms.

Her nails dug into his skin as she clutched him tightly. “No!” she cried out, and his grip tightened around her, her body trembling in his arms like a frightened bird.

“Shhhh.” He stroked her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

The quiver in her arms slowly faded and she let out a long exhale, slipping back into easy breaths.

Zevander rested the back of his head against the wooden headboard and turned to see Raivox peering in on them, his enormous eye flicking as he seemed to watch with concern. Once she’d settled back into quiet snores, he unraveled himself from her body and made his way to the balcony, stepping outside into the chilly night.

The Corvugons had roosted themselves on the balconies, Raivox opting for the one connected to his mother’s old room. Closest to where they slept, of course.

Zevander remained silent at first, then glanced toward the nosy shitsack. “I never thanked you. For saving my life.” The words grumbled out of him like bitter chunks of curdled milk. “I was certain I’d never see her again. Had already made peace with the gods. Then you showed up.” A rush of adrenaline washed over him as he recalled that moment. That pivotal moment when despair had become hope. He flexed his hands and took a deep breath, shaking his head. “I must be crazy talking to a damned bird.” As Zevander turned to make his way back into the room, he felt a nudge from behind and twisted to see Raivox stretched across the balconies, pressing his beak into his shoulder. With a half-smile, he stroked his hand down the Corvugon’s maw. “Yeah, I guess you’re all right. For a shithead.”