The Refuge of Fate

Chapter 132 - The Meeting (2)

*Flashback to the time before Silas went to Belmaid*

Silas was sitting on a soft stool in front of a vanity mirror in their room. He was brushing his hair back and fixing his appearance when all of a sudden, black smoke erupted right behind him.

But he didn't flinch at the sudden occurrence, instead, he continued combing his hair and when it reached the back of his head, another person's hand stopped him from moving further.

"May I?" Ciaran asked as he gently took the comb from Silas' hand and instead he did the brushing. The comb's little fingers glided through the silk-like strands and the man who possessed the white hair hummed in satisfaction of the combing. Ciaran took note of this as he did the other parts of the head too.

He then looked at the mirror and saw that the white-haired king was looking at him with a small smile on his face.

"Does this please you, my love?" He asked to which Silas nodded his head. "I'm glad."

Once he was done combing Silas' hair, his hands then went down to the man's shoulders and he started pressing there gently. This garnered him a good sound from his lover as Silas closed his eyes and sighed at the sensation. The pressing fingers felt nice.

The shoulder massage took a few minutes before Ciaran kissed the back of Silas' neck and whispering in his ear. "Can I oil your feet?" He inquired.

Humming a short 'yes', Ciaran nodded his head as black smoke slowly climbed out from the bottom of his feet and to his body. "I'll get the oil, you sit here first."

And he was gone.

Not for long though, it hadn't been twenty seconds but he was already back with the glass bottle filled with relaxing oil in his hand. Ciaran kneeled in front of Silas and he raised the robe that stretched down to the man's knees.

He adored the alabaster skin that seemed to glow under the small streaks of moonlight trying to penetrate the dark palace. Ciaran decided to place a few kisses on the man's feet before popping the bottle open and smearing the young king's foot with oil. The calming fragrance of lavender filled their noses to which they also both enjoyed it.

Fenrir carefully lathered Silas' feet in the wonderful-smelling oil and massaged his toes gently.

"Does it feel good?" He asked again and he was rewarded with a response of the white-haired king placing his hand on top of his head and ruffling his hair. "It does, thank you."

Ciaran smiled at the thanks he had just gotten before he decided it was enough oiling. He lifted the lower part of the robe even more until Silas' thighs were revealed.

"Can I please your thighs too?" He asked as he trailed kisses from Silas' knees upwards. Each time his lips landed on the man's skin, a small sigh of satisfaction left Silas' lips and it encouraged Fenrir to do more.

He could feel Silas' gentle grip on his hair start to tighten and he liked it a lot.

His lips then found their way to the latter's upper thigh where he made sure to bite and suck. This left mark on the man's skin.

"Fenrir?" Silas called as he combed his slender fingers through Ciaran's now raven locks.

"Yes."

"Can you do something for me?"

In an instant, Ciaran shot up from painting his lover's smooth thighs using his lips and listened attentively like a dog wagging its tail in front of its owner.

"Anything you want, my love."

Smiling, Silas ruffled his hair.

"Before the final war, I want you to help the others become as powerful as they could," he ordered and Ciaran nodded his head. "Whatever method you employ, as long as it makes them stronger."