Akisos, realm of the damned. Infernal wailing was common amongst the magma and wayward souls here, but no such wailing compared to the shrill cries that rung out from the throne room.
Sadrin, god of death and ruler of Akisos, sat on his throne with his favorite concubine, Ashlar, riding his massive cock. Her moans of worship were gut-wrenching.
“Yes, Master,” Ashlar panted, her head thrown back onto Sadrin’s shoulder, her back in an impressive arch, and her hips desperately bucking against him, trying to drive him deeper inside her. “Fuck…me…harder,” she said between her hitched breaths.
Sadrin gripped her hips and a demented smile curled across his lips as he obliged her request. Between Sadrin and Ashlar’s legs, lapping up their passion, was Iredell, Sadrin’s second favorite. With Ashlar’s needy cunt and Iredell’s hungry mouth, Sadrin couldn’t think of a better way to waste time.
“Please, Master, *please* fill me,” said Ashlar as she squeezed her breasts and resorted to grinding, her lust almost too much to bear.
“Yes, Master, just a taste for your most devoted servants,” said Iredell, as she licked from his shaft up to Ashlar’s cunt back down to his shaft.
“As talented as you two are,” said Sadrin, “You are by no means worthy of my seed.”
Ashlar whined. Sadrin gripped her face so hard, the apples of her cheeks protruded.
“You will take what I give you and be *grateful* for it,” he growled.
“Yes, Master,” the women said in unison.
Sadrin released Ashlar’s face and nipped at her neck while palming her breasts when his eyes flickered over to the looking glass across from his throne. His brow furled as he narrowed his eyes. “Enough,” he commanded.
Iredell stopped as instructed, ever obedient was she; but Ashlar continued, greedy as ever.
“I said, *enough*,” Sadrin stood up from his throne and tossed Ashlar aside to the floor. Her coos of ecstasy dissolved into anguished cries of pain. She slapped at her clit, desperate to relieve the immediate, mounting pressure inside of her, pressure that could only be relieved by Sadrin’s cock.
Unmoved by Ashlar’s plight, Sadrin situated himself and moved closer to the looking glass. He studied the images intently, intrigued at what was unfolding before him. At his feet, pitiful whimpering and kisses. A tearful Ashlar licked his boot.
“Master…please…more,” she said tonguing his boot with the same passion and vigor she would his cock.
Sadrin stepped aside from her worship. “You seem to forget yourself, slave. It is you who service me, not the other way around. Now leave me before I not touch you for a decade.”
Iredell scurried to Ashlar’s side and escorted her back towards the foot of the throne. She stroked the sobbing Ashlar’s hair and planted soft kisses on her companion’s forehead.
Sadrin continued to peer into the looking glass, his eyes darting, taking everything in. After a moment, a laugh escaped his lips. “How easily mortals forget.”
Sadrin left his throne room and marched down the corridor.
He arrived at his former bed chambers and opened the door. The sweet scent of lilac enveloped him; he closed his eyes and folded his lips in anticipation. He shut the door behind him and took several paces inside the room until his bed became visible.
Within his bed, kneeling, was a vision of purity and virtue. Her delicate framed draped in a silver tunic dress. Beside her, one of Sadrin’s many tomes detailing ancient arcane arts.
“Sybil,” said Sadrin as he placed his hand over his chest and offered a small bow, his eyes never leaving her.
Sybil lowered her eyes to him, “Lord Sadrin.”
Outsiders witnessing the exchange might be curious as to who was the deity and whom the mortal between the two.
“I’ve told you, there need not be such formalities between us,” he said, making his way to her side of the bed. “You may call me ‘Sadrin.’”
She offered him silence instead.
Sadrin reached out a finger and caressed her arm. “Might I warm your bed, tonight?”
Sybil stiffened her posture and turned her head away from him. She pulled her arm away from his touch and the shackle and chain that tethered her to the bed rattled.
Sadrin gave a soft chuckle. “Rebuffed… as always,” His eyes traveling from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. “No matter, that’s not why I’m here. I wanted to show you something, sweet Priestess.” He held out his hand. “Come with me.”
She didn’t turn to face him, instead she crossed her arms.
“I’m sorry to have disturbed you, then,” he said. He drew close to her ear, “I only thought you might be interested in seeing your precious *Asiam*, again” he said in a whisper.
Her skin bristled at the mere mention of *his* name. Her head whipped in Sadrin’s direction, her eyes wide, searching his face for deception.
There was no deceit there. He merely clenched his jaw and bit his upper lip to keep it from curling. Her continued devotion to *him* left a bitter taste in Sadrin’s mouth.
He gestured for her hand, once more. With her shackled hand she reached for his. Once her hand was firmly in his grasp, the clasp of her shackle collapsed open and it fell to the bed with a cushioned *THUD.*
With tenderness and grace, he pulled her from the bed and guided her onto the floor. She flexed her bare foot until the ball of her foot touched the ground. She lowered herself accordingly. He took her arm into his own and placed his hand over hers on his bicep. His pointed nails grazed her hand and sent a chill down her spine, though she stood tall and rooted her feet as to not let on how intimidated she was.
Walking down the open corridor, Sadrin’s pace was slow and easy to match Sybil’s stride. He peered down at her; her gaze was fixed on the scenery. The terrain was made up of jagged obsidian. Between the obsidian’s crevices oozed streams of searing lava. The vegetation was little more than twisted and crooked trees with bare branches that splintered like fingers reaching for salvation just out of reach. There was a devastating majesty to Sadrin’s kingdom.
Sybil’s body produced a fine sheen of sweat, making her honeyed complexion that much more appetizing to Sadrin.
“Still not acclimated to the heat here?” he asked.
“No, Lord Sadrin,” Sybil’s gaze remained fixed on the landscape.
“How long has it been since you first arrived?”
“I lost count after the sixth harvest, your Lordship.”
“I suppose that is a long time to be confined in my chambers. There’s so much you’ve yet to experience here. So much Akisos could offer you…” He had hoped she would inquire about what Akisos could offer her, what *he* could offer her, but, alas, she remained stoic. “It was my hope not to keep you here as my captive.”
“With that we share a commonality, Lord Sadrin. One of few, I’m sure.”
The vein in his neck throbbed, although he couldn’t place if it was irritation or attraction he was experiencing at that moment. “I’m certain our common ground will expand, in due time.” He gave her hand a few reassuring pats, though it was uncertain if the reassurance was more so for him than for her. “I noticed you were reading the *Seven Rites of the King* in my chambers. A bit odd, wouldn’t you say?”
“How so?”
“Well, if anyone were to be well-versed with those specific rites, I would imagine it be you, Priestess.”
“I see no harm in revisiting the text. There’s always something new to learn.”
“Like a loophole to reverse your current circumstances?”
Sybil turned to look up at Sadrin, their eyes locked. His amber eyes with their molten glow burned through her resolve, if only for a moment. She rolled her shoulders back and broke his gaze with a quaint laugh. “Lord Sadrin,” she said, “You wound me. Do you think I would employ deceitful tactics to circumvent my eternal judgement?”
Sadrin pursed his lips and gave a non-committal shrug. “If you thought the judgement passed down to you by the gods was just, then no…” He stopped to face her, “But you don’t believe your judgement to be just, do you?”
Her eyes drifted away from his as she sighed and folded her arms.
“It’s okay, confide in me. Just because I’m one of the gods doesn’t make me *one of them*,” he said stepping closer into Sybil’s space. “Although,” he placed his hands on her slender shoulders. His thumbs traced her shoulders’ elegant contours. His breath became shallow. “I do greatly benefit from your damnation.” His mouth watered at the thought of her helplessness in the situation. He allowed his eyes to wander down to her ample cleavage. His Adam’s apple descended and rose as he swallowed. The heaving of her chest increased from subtle to alarmed. He brought his eyes back up to hers and was met with doe eyes and a worrisome brow. He lifted his hands away from her and allowed them to fall at his sides. He gestured in front of them, “The throne room is just through these doors.”
The throne room’s stories high doors opened with an authoritative *CLUNK.* As they eased opened, they creaked as if they were groaning. Sadrin walked in, both Ashlar and Iredell perked up at his presence.
Following behind Sadrin was Sybil, taking tentative steps. All this was so new to her. Besides the throne were two naked women. One’s eyes glisten and a coy smile drew across her face as she looked at Sybil, her index finger dangling from her eager bottom lip. The other looked down her nose and scowled. Though naked, they were not without adornments. Black and blue bruises on the hips, neck, wrists, and calves of the scowling woman. Both women had scratches and bite marks. They must be the ones Sybil could hear caterwauling for Sadrin most nights. She could never discern if their howls were of pain or pleasure. It was for those cries in the night that made her frightened of Sadrin’s amorous gaze.
Making his way to the looking glass, Sadrin looked back for Sybil. He followed her eyes and settled his on the same sight: Ashlar and Iredell. It must have been a fright to see them in such a condition.
“Leave us,” he commanded.
Iredell did not spare a moment to do as her Master said. She took several paces and looked for her companion, Ashlar, still at the throne, though, luckily for her, Sadrin’s attention was focused on Sybil. Iredell rushed back to her.
“Ashlar, please, he does not seem in the mood for games, today. Let’s go before he takes notice we are still here.”
Ashlar snarled at the sight of Sadrin tending to Sybil so diligently. She took a reluctant first step with Iredell.
“Don’t worry, there’s a spot Master doesn’t know about where we can watch,” whispered Iredell with a playful giggle.
Iredell’s reassurance gave Ashlar a bit more agency to obey. The two seeped into the shadows.
Sadrin and Sybil approach the looking glass.
“Here, this is it,” Sadrin said as he positioned Sybil in front of the looking glass.
Through the glass there was only swirls of mist and smoke and the faint reflection of Sybil’s hesitant face. “Should I be seeing something, Lord? Is this an exercise in scrying? If so, I’m afraid *seeing* was never my gift.”
“Truly?” he asked as he took long and measured steps towards the glass, his hands clasped behind his back. “I suppose you possess far more… useful gifts than that of the common oracle.” His nose practically touched the glass when he turned back to her, “Are you ready to see?”
Sybil nodded.
He lifted his index finger to the glass and let his nail tap against it. Where his nail landed a point of light burned bright through the mist and smoke. He drew his nail lengthwise across the glass causing the point of light to become a ray of light, cutting through the hazy nebula behind the glass. The further he drew the more frayed the line of light became. The obscurity of the realm beyond ripping apart until he reached the other side of the glass where he let his finger fall. In that moment, the frayed ray of light expanded violently, blinding Sybil.
Sybil’s eyes adjusted from the explosion of light with several blinks. Whiteness faded and in it’s place a set of mischievous eyes looked back at her. Her heart fluttered. She brought her fist to her chest, hoping to keep her heart from bursting out. The eyes wrinkled in their corners. *Was he smiling? What brings him joy these days?* His skin, a color as rich and deep as Temekean Silt. His locks greyed at the temples. Time had indeed past, but King Asiam remained as handsome as the day she fell in love with him. He stood at the palace balcony; it seemed as though he was addressing the Kingdom of Temek.
Sybil studied the looking glass with longing and curiosity. She took delicate but deliberate steps towards it, frighten that this gift could be revoked as quickly as it was granted. Her concerns were valid, Sadrin watched her as intently as she watched the looking glass, that bitter taste welling up on his tongue again.
“It looks like a celebration,” she said, “but of what?” She adjusted her body to get a better vantage point, the looking glass was now merely a window to a world she long left behind but yearned to return to. “Is it the Season of the Maiden?” She peered deeper into the glass. “No, the regalias aren’t in bloom. What are they observing, Lord Sadrin?”
“I suppose you wouldn’t be familiar with this particular festival; you had long settled into my quarters by the time they started observing it. They call it ‘The Dawn after the Long Night.’ Though the celebration of the Dawn is new to you, I doubt you’ll ever forget that Long Night, will you?” he said with a smirk on his face.
Her heart slowed and her stomach constricted. The glint in Sybil’s eyes glazed over into dismay. She turned her back to the glass, her initial joy of seeing her home soured into anguish.
“What troubles you, Priestess? Why do you turn away from your beloved King? Is his betrayal too much to endure?”
“He didn’t betray me…” she said, her voice hushed and wavering.
“And what would you call it then? By all accounts he should be in the Great Hall of Acharnes with his forefathers and other great heroes of Temek, and you walking amongst the living, blessing patrons, mentoring acolytes,” he said as he skulked up to her, lowering his voice so his influence would take root deep inside her psyche. “But no, there he is, addressing his subjects, and you here…you weren’t even granted the ‘honor’ to serve as a footstool in Acharnes.”
Sybil’s core tremored. She clasped her hands over her stomach to subdue the quake, she would not so easily falter to his manipulation.
“Do you know what they call him?” he asked, bowing his head to catch her lowered eyes, “Asiam the Resurrected. *How absurd.*” He stepped towards Sybil and turned her back towards the looking glass, he pulled her into him. The rigidity of his armored chest plate against her back caused her posture to straighten. He lifted her chin with his finger to return her eyes to the looking glass.
Asiam now walked down a long, lonesome decorative corridor in the palace. Sybil recognized it; her former chambers weren’t too far from where he traversed.
“He would be little more than a bloated corpse in a ravine. His adoring subjects would be my own had it not been for *your* magic, *your* diligence…*your* sacrifice.” The two continued watching Asiam. Sadrin’s hands trailed down Sybil’s arms and rested on her wrists. “No one knows what happened in those hallowed halls of Chalsis, those hypocritical pantheon pricks insistent on their trite tribute from recently departed Kings. Asiam knew maybe two of the rites, but when he exhausted his pathetic lack of knowledge he begged and wept.”
Sadrin turned his head and spat at the thought of Asiam’s weakness, he grew tired of that bitterness he associated with her love for Asiam resting so brazenly on his tongue.
“Asiam is a great many things, Lord Sadrin, but a coward he is not,” said Sybil, pulling away from Sadrin’s touch.
Sadrin allowed her space. “Oh? Well if not a coward, how about treasonous swine? Begging for the pantheon to spare him, an already dead man, instead of the thousands of citizens in Temek at the mercy of the gods because he couldn’t perform his rites. Arguably, the one duty expected of him. But no, he couldn’t do it. Temek has no idea at how close they came to their reckoning from his incompetence. But then, as if lightning struck in Chalsis, you showed up. You joined him and gave him the prayers, the gestures, the knowledge.” Sadrin reached for her hand and caressed it. “I’ve sat through many a King’s Rites, but none were performed with as much reverence and grace as I saw with you that night. That night that spanned the course of three days. It was you; you were the savior of Temek, not that fool.”
“Hold your tongue!” Sybil snapped.
An inferno lit in Sadrin’s core. The pressure in Akisos became dense and the stifling heat scorched to a dizzying degree. The tectonic plates of Akisos tremored and shifted along with his souring mood. He gripped her by the throat and snatched her close. Her ear mere millimeters from his mouth. “You *dare* to command me to refrain from speaking, in *my* throne room?” he said in a low growl.
Sybil could only respond to him with desperate attempts at breaths.
“Priestess,” he chuckled. “I don’t think you’re fully aware of the courtesy I’ve shown you, nor your lack of leverage here,” he whispered. “Lift your dress.”
Sybil’s hands shook with resistance, but she bundled the fabric up to her waist, exposing herself.
That intoxicating scent of lilac intensified in Sadrin’s nostrils. “Touch yourself.”
Sybil took her index finger and slid it up and down her clit, timidly, those resistant tremors ever present. Before long, the rest of her fingers joined, and sliding gave way to her rubbing herself in a circular motion.
Sadrin watched Sybil oscillate between prideful restraint and pleasurable yielding. It was a battle for her to maintain her dignity and not flounder to her baser needs, a battle she was sorely losing.
“What you fail to realize, dear Priestess, is that the moment your soul was bound to this realm I could have forced your compliance any time I so chose. You serving as nothing more than a series of trickling orifices for me to use and abuse at *my* discretion,” he said through gritted teeth, his grip around her throat still firm. “But,” his grip loosened as he relinquished her throat one finger at a time, until her mandible rested between his thumb and forefinger. “That’s not what I wanted for you.” He released her completely.
Sybil collapsed to her knees and gasped for air. She crumbled further by placing her free hand on the ground. Granted autonomy once more, she removed her hand from herself, her fingers slicked with tainted desire.
Sadrin took a knee next to her. “Not for the woman who so effortlessly subverted the pantheon’s so-called grand design.” He took her glistening fingers and brought it up to his mouth for a series of long licks and suckles. He swallowed then he sucked his teeth and shook his head. Coercion had an acquired taste, fitting for some women, but not Sybil. What Sadrin craved most was the nectar that was her submission.
He stood up and helped her to her feet.
She shied away from him.
“Perhaps, Priestess, I may have been too severe,” he said. “And perhaps my reputation precedes me. Perhaps you don’t believe me when I tell you the painstaking truth about your beloved.”
Though cowering, she managed to cut her eyes at him.
“So, how about a deal? I will grant you corporeal form once more. That way you can return to Temek and see for yourself how worthless Asiam is.”
Her eyes lit up. She could return home. She could have Asiam in her arms again. “In exchange for what?” she asked.
“You completely submit yourself to me, for a night.”
Her heart was in turmoil. On the one hand, a second chance, on the other she thought of those two women. Would a second chance at happiness be worth the assured suffering she’d face at his hands? She rubbed her neck for comfort and to soothe it from the trauma she endured from him.
He reached his hand out to shake hers in agreement to his terms. A moment passed. She removed her hand from her neck and placed it in his, sealing the deal.
He cradled her into his arms and carried her out of the throne room.
They entered his bed chambers, she hadn’t stop trembling since he took her in his arms.
He placed her down next to the bed. He took a few steps away from her and he reached to undo his chest plate. The piece of armor clattered to the floor. “Disrobe,” he said dispassionately.
She reached her hands up to opposite shoulders and slid the fabric off. She pulled her arms through and expected the dress to fall to the floor, but the fabric caught on her full hips and rounded ass. Sadrin sauntered towards her. She crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her breasts from him. He hooked his thumbs beneath the fabric at her hips and eased it down. The fabric hissed against her skin. She drew her knees towards one another and tilted her pelvis back and away from him, moving one of her hands down to her shame.
“Now, now,” said Sadrin as he grabbed her wrists and raised them. “Let me have a look at you. Stand up straight.”
She complied, though she looked away from him.
His eyes examined her. First, her lovely face. Near-perfect symmetry with delicate features. Her lips looked especially pouty while quivering. Next, her breasts: so full and luscious. Her nipples: perked, attentive, and ready for Sadrin’s mouth. To see her center in its full glory, he would have to get her in a more favorable position, but for now he was content with where she stood. There was so much to explore on this beautiful creature. He leaned in and gently kissed her neck, deciding this to be the best place to start.
His gentleness came as a surprise to Sybil. It was a total departure from the entity she was just at the mercy of a few short moments ago. She could feel herself disappear into each kiss, each bite, and lick. A bit of hesitation still nestled inside her, though, until he bit at her earlobe and pulled her into an embrace. The tenderness of his touch caused her to inhale deep. Cedar. He smelled like the cedar she used to burn in the temple during her hours of prayer to keep warm. Familiarity and comfort washed over her as she returned his embrace and offered him a deep kiss.
He broke their kiss. “Kneel,” he said.
She eased down to her knees and looked up at him, expectantly. To be a god he didn’t look much different than mortals, save for his skin being the color of iron ore. He had the same physique as the couriers back home. Tall with lean yet devastatingly defined muscles. Broad shoulders, prominent pecs, and tight abdominals. His body was built for endurance.
He gripped the base of his shaft and lined her lips with the head of his cock. Lips dedicated to prayer and reciting spells, tonight they would be performing an all together different type of magic. She folded her lips to sample his taste, she found it tantalizing. With an exploratory tongue she went for another taste.
He granted her the luxury of exploring him at her own pace, he wanted her desire to ripen on its own accord.
She wrapped her lips around his head and sucked with varying intensity: soft, medium, firm. Cycling through the intensity to tease and excite him further. He couldn’t help but wince whenever she gave a firm suck. She took his head out of her mouth and licked up and down his shaft, coating his cock with spit. She staggered her palms against his shaft and curled her fingers around him. She brought her mouth further down on him until her lips met and sealed with one of her fists. With every downstroke she splayed her fingers as she rubbed her palms down his shaft and every upstroke she gripped and twisted in opposite directions.
His breathing was labored, and moans couldn’t help but escape his lips. “No hands,” he instructed as he tangled his fingers in her tightly coiled hair.
She let her hands fall from him and place them behind her back. She looked up at him as she took more of him into her mouth.
He guided her further down on him. He shuddered and his chest caved slightly the moment he felt himself slide down her throat. He tilted his head back and indulged in her for a few more moments. “Stop.”
She stopped and removed her mouth from him, begrudgingly. She eyed his cock, her eyes dimmed with desire as she reached between her legs and rubbed her slick clit. He could smell her growing need for him.
“Stand up.”
She stood. He plunged his tongue into her mouth exchanging several wet, passionate, and hungry kisses before setting her down on the bed. He grabbed the back of her knees and pushed them back, causing her to lie down. There it was. Her succulent pussy blossoming as he pushed her knees further apart. That coveted nectar trickling down, no doubt leaving a spot in the linen. He bit his lip as he locked eyes with her. She feigned shyness, or perhaps she truly was nervous of what was to come. To alleviate her concerns (real or otherwise,) he bowed his head and without breaking eye contact, he gave a long and deliberate lick. Her clit throbbed beneath his tongue. They both moaned.
He kneeled between her legs and continued his worship of her. He offered her teasing tongue flicks, her eyelids fluttered in tandem with his tongue. He followed up by pulling her hood back and revealing her petite yet swollen clit, he sucked on it, rolling his head round and round to enhance the sensation. Before long, her core spasmed as she released on his tongue. He slurped up every drop she offered him then dug his tongue deep inside of her for more, his nose nuzzling against her clit.
He pulled his mouth away from her with a smack. He stood up, stroking his cock. He wanted inside of her. She still writhed in bliss from his mouth work when he gripped her arm and flipped her on her stomach. He grabbed her hips and yanked them towards the edge of the bed, the balls of her feet barely brushed against the floor. With one hand on her hip, the other on himself, he bent his knees to position himself where he wanted to be. With calm persistence he slid inside her. He let out a soft sigh. She on the other hand, let out a guttural grunt, not use to someone Sadrin’s size. With each measured stroke she gave a grunt, in turn, until discomfort melted away into immeasurable pleasure. She relaxed into the act and cooed in delight. Even with her relaxation, she still felt like a vice around Sadrin’s cock, but at least now he could give her the proper dicking she so rightly deserved.
He pumped into her with reckless abandon, growls emanated from throat. Her moans where in sync with his rhythm.
“All those years of study,” he said, “All those hours of prayer and fasting to gain the gods’ favor,” a moan caught in his throat. “Tell me, Sybil… how does it finally feel to be *filled* with divinity?” he laughed.
Words. To answer him, she would need to find her words; but it was incredibly difficult to navigate the haze of ecstasy and rapidly firing synapses that was her mind, at that moment. She drew her brows together desperate to make sense of what she was experiencing. What it meant to be filled by him. Through the haze only one word sharpened into clarity, one word to that encompassed the entirety of her pleasure. She reached her hand down by her hip and laced fingers between his and moan, “Sadrin, oh…Sadrin!” she said undulating her hips against his thrusts.
Her sweet hymn made his eyes roll back and sent shivers down his spine, causing his toes to curl. He hadn’t anticipated his body having such a reaction to her calling his name. His pace involuntarily quickened. He was about to cum and he was tempted to fill her to the brim, but he knew tonight wasn’t the night. She would have to pledge herself to him for all eternity for him to grant her that gift, not just for a night. He threw his head back and rode the waves of his mounting orgasm until he could hold on no longer. He pulled out and covered her in his seed.
Sybil squealed at the sensation. His cum burned hot, hotter than any warm-blooded mortal. But after the initial shock subdued, she found herself enjoying the exquisite agony.
Sadrin collapsed on the bed beside her, his arms lazily draped across his chest, trying to regain some normalcy in his breathing. Once he regained his composure, he left the bed to retrieve a rag.
“What about our deal, my Lord?” said Sybil, still in a post-orgasmic haze.
Sadrin’s ears perked at the possible attachment he just heard. “No worries, my lady. I’ve not forgotten our arrangement,” he said returning to the bed and wiping up his mess as best he could. “Especially after you held up your side of the deal so thoroughly.” He sat her up and cradle her in his arms. “All you have to do is go to sleep. When you wake, you will be back amongst the living.”
Sybil smiled.
“Although, you won’t return as yourself, naturally. Where would the fun in that be? You’ll return as someone else, *something* else altogether.”
“No, wait—”
“You know for all the shit I give Asiam, he’s not entirely bad. Through his folly he has granted me my fortune,” he caressed Sybil’s face and gave her a deep, longing kiss. “…and sealed your fate.”
Sybil slipped unconscious to the sound of Sadrin’s throaty laughter.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/gio9tn/kings_folly_working_title_demon_king_ffm
Hi. This is my first post, so I hope I tagged it properly. It’s pretty long so if you made it through, I thank you and I hope you enjoyed