Tributes

Chapter Thirty Three

Tyreol woke up with two warm bodies pressed up against him. One very much his. The other not as much. His eyes roamed over the two healthy bodies; both content and sleeping peacefully. His pup was a devious one. Luke had steamrolled both of them into last night events, and while Tyreol had enjoyed himself, Luke was fortunate that Edmund wasn't too averse to the idea.

It was going to end. The practice of locking whores in the dungeon and having them broken was meant to be a punishment given to the worst of the worst. The day he had agreed to expand the criteria, he never should have agreed to it being more. Things never should have got this wrong in the first place. If anyone complained, he'd kill them. They wouldn't be worth keeping alive if they thought the practice was right. As for the whores, themselves... Tyreol clenched his fists. He would have to see how bad the situation was.

Edmund's fate was more up in the air. Tyreol wanted him. It was just how hard he would have to fight to keep him as a personal tribute rather than put him to work as a servant. He'd get him, Tyreol was sure of it. The human had been gifted to him after all, not his castle.

Tyreol snuggled closer to Luke and took a moment to enjoy having him in his arms. He loved the young man like nothing else. The apple of his eye. Luke was the centre of his world and the one who was most likely to end it too. "Troublesome pup," he breathed into Luke's hair.

"You love it," Luke muttered, wriggling in his arms and settling happily. "Someone has to help you remember how to be humans."

"Never was human,"

"How to deal with humans then," Luke shrugged, turning just far enough to press a kiss to Tyreol's lips. "And help you wake up and get rid of the hell you keep in the dungeons. It has only ever caused problems."

Tyreol bit Luke's ear and grumbled but didn't deny it. Helian was almost done preparing for the warpath he was about to go on. Luke settled back into sleep, a smile on his face. Tyreol just waited patiently for him to be dead to the world again. He kissed both sleeping men on the forehead as he slipped out of bed and into his armour.

"Helian,"

"Master," Helian appeared by his side, hands already moving to help fasten the straps and buckles of armour. Tyreol shifted as needed. He needed to make an impression. He needed to channel every once of the terror he inspired and rain it down upon the dungeons.

"We're ending it, today."

"I understand, Master," Helian nodded, dressed in his own armour. Tyreol symbol was painted over it proudly. "Master, may I ask your plan?"

"There are rules. They were broken too many times. Everyone who is down their who broke them or stood by willingly, dies." No mercy, there could be none in this. He was the god of war, not of mercy. He felt his fangs extend in his mouth, blood filling it. "We hunt," he snarled, face half morphed. His bones cracked as he tried to settle. Anger throbbed in his blood. Somewhere, a man who followed him was about to gain a great victory.

Tyreol opened the door and walked into the depths of his lands, ready to tear the demons apart to make the castle safe again. Time to rip the poison from the heart of the castle.