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Magnus
My lady was especially passionate that night, and it took the considerable skills of both Drayke and me to satisfy her desires. Fortunately we were up to the task.
We took turns holding her down and licking her pussy until she came again and again. Then Drayke sat on the edge of the bed. I made her stand in front of him and shoved her head down so she could to suck him off while I grabbed her hips and took her from behind. Meli orgasmed one more time, her cries muffled by Drayke’s cock in her mouth as he shot cum down her throat.
My fingers dug into her ass as her pussy clenched around my cock in rhythmic waves. I gave one final lunge, thrusting deep as I exploded.
I drew her trembling body into my arms and lay down with her on the bed. Drayke curled up so she was nestled between us. He drifted off to sleep. Meli followed shortly after, but sleep eluded me. Finally I fell into a fitful slumber, only to be awakened by the screams of men I’d killed in battles past.
They surrounded me, reaching out with bony hands from which the flesh had long ago rotted away. Begging for mercy. Mercy they’d never shown to their victims. I whirled and slashed, taking them down one by one, yet still they came. Rising up from the bowels of the earth, surrounding me, forcing me to relive every battle I’d fought over the centuries.
At first Melisandre fought by my side. Valiantly. Courageously. But she was no match for their ferocity. They captured her. Dragged her away to the Underworld as she cried out my name.
I woke drenched in sweat and slipped from the bed, knowing I’d have no more rest that night. Silently, I made my way to the temple.
The oracle awaited me as I’d known she would. She always seemed to sense the times I needed her. Bathed in starlight from the open dome, she sat curled up on the throne with her legs tucked under her. She appeared not as a crone or a brazen temptress this eve, but as a soft, nurturing maternal figure.
“Another bad night?”
I sighed, wearily climbing the steps to the dais, then sank down at her feet. My days of feuding with her were long past. No longer a self-centered immature lad, I’d outgrown the need to rebel against her authority and reject her teachings. And she in turn had become a source of great comfort and knowledge.
“I was fighting a battle again, this time with the undead. I killed them one after another, but they kept on coming, rising from their graves, swirling around me. It was all…” I stopped, unable to find the words.
“Chaos.”
“Yes.”
She nodded. “Peace does not create warriors. A great warrior is born in chaos. He rises above it, learns to use his skill and his might to restore order to the world.” She laid a hand on my head. Stroked my hair the way a mother would.
“Is that why you sent me to all those ancient battles? Had me fight by the side of men deemed as heroes in legend and myth?”
“When I met young Magnus, you had but one goal,” she said. “To be the greatest warrior our world has ever known. At the time, all was calm and orderly. Such a life does not a hero make. I had to send you to times and places where you would experience a different life, where you could gain the strength you will need in the coming days.”
I thought of all the men who had fallen at my hand, the guilt I’d suffered over the years at taking so many lives. “Did I really fight those battles? Kill those men? Or was it all another of your illusions?”
“Does it matter?”
“What do you mean, does it matter? Of course it matters!” I shot back. I felt like that young lad again, tossed into her frustrating maze where every lesson took me down a path that ended in a perilous confrontation with evil forces. I shoved her hand away.
“You’re angry with me. Yet beneath your anger, I sense fear.”
“You really are a witch,” I muttered. Once again, she’d seen through me. “Yes, I admit it. I’m afraid. But not for myself. For the queen. I know she must come with me. She’ll be in danger – and I’m not sure I can keep her safe.”
The oracle’s voice changed, took on the sonorous tone that told me she was slipping into the trance-like state she entered whenever she quoted the Prophecy.
“The Lord of Darkness draws power from five sources. Four are elemental – earth, water, fire, and air. The fifth, the most important, is the final one he needs to conquer our world and rule once again. The essence of the One.”
I nodded. We’d learned that from the scrolls in the library.
“Scholars and mystics puzzled for centuries over what the last could mean. Melisandre knows the truth.” She paused. “It’s her. It’s her soul.”
“Her soul?”
“Her essence, her life force. The Lord of Darkness doesn’t want to kill her. He wants toownher. To know that she’s surrendered her will to his, to know she’ll submit to him in all things.”
A blast of jealous rage hit me. He wanted to dominate my queen? My woman.
“Why does he need her so badly?”
