"The things I want from you torment me. And I'm certainly not a man who restrains myself from what I want."
Claimed by the dark and alluring ruler of the Moon Court, will Alora find a way to escape the world of Fae, or will she let herself fall und...
I find myself in a plush bed, suffused in shadows and silk. Pinned, on my back, by a figure wrapped in darkness. "Oh..." I gasp. Candlelight traces the lean contours of Viserion's body, glittering dangerously in his dark eyes. He bends over me, lips ghosting across my skin, just skimming past my lips along my throat. I reach up hungrily, needing to feel his skin beneath my hands. He catches my wrists, pushing my arms slowly above my head, trapping me. My breath stutters. "Is this what you've been aching for?" Viserion asks, his voice low against my neck. I shift my wrists within his grasp and am surprised to find him entirely unyielding. He seems to enjoy my struggles, lips curling wolfishly. "Come now. You'll be good for me, won't you?" He asks. "I..." Viserion bends down, softly biting the skin of my throat. A fire blooms inside me, and I let out a small whimper as I writhe beneath him. A low growl escapes Viserion's throat, a shudder running through his body. "You..." He whispers, "You haunt my every thought. What sort of enchantment have you put on me?" His words, spoken as though mesmerized, dissolve any last hesitation. With a breathy sigh, my body grows languid, and Viserion's feral grin sets my pulse racing. His hands slide away from my wrists, but I don't dare move them. I tremble as his hands trace down my arms, and he presses a kiss to the spot just above my heart, my pulse galloping beneath his lips. I feel drunk with desire, struggling to think beyond the deep, aching need. "We... We shouldn't." I gasp, "You're Fae, and I'm–" He pulls back just an inch, and I nearly cry out at the sudden loss of contact. "Tell me to stop." He demands. I open my mouth to speak, unsure if I mean to say stop, or beg him not to. Before I can find out...
...My eyes fly open, revealing the interior of my own room just before dawn. It was just a dream. Just a dream. I'm breathless and agitated, the heat of Viserion's mouth on my skin still vivid in my mind and very out of place in the waking world. Get ahold of yourself, Alora. That would never... He would never. I rise and splash some cold water on my face, not letting myself dwell on why I continue to have such... heated thoughts toward the Night Prince. Focus, Alora. You're representing the Moon Court at the Grand Hunt today. Opening the wardrobe, I pull out an outfit I can only think Longclaw left for me and quickly put it on. Taking a deep breath, I step out of my room and steel myself for what the day has to come.
(Alora's Hunting Outfit minus the sword)
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After stopping in the Kitchen for a quick bite of breakfast, I make my way to the palace stables to find Viserion fitting saddlebags onto a tall black beast of a horse. "Alora, good." He says, not even turning to look at me, "Come here." He gestures back at the stables, where a few graceful, long-legged horses wander untethered through the building. "Choose your steed for the day. Have you ridden before?" He asks. I shake my head. "I've never been this close to a horse before." I eye the huge creatures warily, noting their clever eyes and massive hooves, "We had workhorses on the farm when I was a child, but, to be honest, they always scared me a little." If that angers Viserion, he doesn't show it. "You need not fear these creatures. Show them respect, and they shall respect you in return." Nodding, I make my way carefully through the stable. One of the horses, a slender dapple-gray mare, ambles curiously over. "Hello there," I say, holding out my hand. The horse sniffs my hand, then butts her head against my fingers. Laughing, I scratch between the horse's velvety ears as she grumbles happily. "That is Penumbra." Viserion says from behind me, "She's gentle enough, though she's been known to occasionally bite riders she doesn't like." "Spoken like someone who knows from experience," I reply, shooting Viserion a look. He lets out a long-suffering sigh, hefting a saddle over the horse's back. Penumbra gives Viserion a sidelong look as the straps tighten, clicking her teeth together. "Don't even think about it," Viserion says firmly. Once Penumbra is kitted out and my saddlebags are situated, Viserion helps me to mount before alighting onto his own steed with agile grace. "Come. Best if we're early."
