The Touch of Demise │18+

17: Your Blood

𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄

People were watching as they walked back to the palace. She didn't understand why. They weren't touching. Demise was in front of her, leading the way. In their culture, male mates always walked in front, a sign that the female behind was mated.

Her steps faltered as she glanced around her. Oh, she thought as it dawned on her. Looking up, she watched as groups of wolves murmured amongst themselves. Her ears picked up on a few of the conversations.

"Didn't you hear? That's his mate!"

"We finally have a Queen!"

"Awe, she's really pretty! I talked to her once, she was super nice!"

Grace was relieved that there weren't any inherently malicious comments toward her.

"Grace."

She didn't realize she stopped walking. Demise was ahead a few paces and must have realized she was further behind. She smiled at him. "Sorry."

He wasn't angry at her. He simply waited for her as she did a quick jog to him. By the time she reached, her breath was a bit labored. She coughed into her elbow.

She yelped as her feet were swiped from underneath her. She was in his arms, being carried to the palace.

"Do you feel well?"

"Demise, I'm fine," she responded, coughing again. He grimaced, opening the heavy doors into his home.

"I should have made you wear a heavier jacket-"

"This is the heaviest jacket I have."

"Three pairs of socks-"

"Three pairs of socks! It's not that cold-"

"Maybe a hat with a heater in it-"

She sighed, a teasing smile gracing her lips. "Those don't exist."

"They should. I'll work on it."

"Stop worrying."

"You're coughing."

"I cough all the time. It's no big deal."

Demise took her hand again. She smiled, looking at their intertwined hands. She knew he always touched her with as much gentleness as he could muster. She wasn't glass, but he treated her like it, except in the rare moments his carnal side took over. Those moments were some of her favorites.

Once again, an immersive feeling of pure affection and need flowed through her. "My parents explained what true mates felt, but..."

"It's different."

She smiled. "Yeah, it is."

His eyes seemed to gloss over for a second and it took a moment for her to realize that he was linking with someone. He looked down at her with a guilty expression.

She looked at him with a soft gaze. "Duty calls?"

"There are civilibus here."

"Civilibus?"

"They're representatives of another Primus. They usually schedule a meeting before coming."

"So it must be important then. You should go."

He didn't disagree, but thought for a moment. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"Yes," she laughed, "I'm fine. Go. You're a Primus."

"Come with me."

She paused, biting her lip. She was shocked that he even considered bringing her to one of these meetings. "W-what? I can't come. Only ranked lycanthropes can go."

"Hate to break it to you, Χάρη," He grabbed her waist, pulling her to his chest. His lips neared her ear. "You're a ranked lycanthrope now."

She blushed from his firm affirmation.. It was...incredibly hot to be so formidably accepted by her mate. The wolf within her bristled to the surface. She pulled away, looking up into his red eyes.

"Come," he continued.

She nodded, hesitantly. It wasn't that she didn't want to go, because she did. She wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. The greatest moments now were those in which he was present. Still, she couldn't help but feel apprehensive. What would the civilibus think? What would his people think? She was by no means qualified to make any decisions for the people.

"But first, those socks..."

She rolled her eyes as he dragged her up the stairs.

»»————-　　————-««

He made her put on, not one, but two more pairs of socks even though they were staying in the palace. There was a throne room in the center of the castle used for summits between political figures. She had cleaned this room many times.

The floor was a light marble that was cleaned daily. One could see their reflection in it if they stared down. The ceilings were high and ornate with gold decorations and chandeliers. When they dusted the glass above, they had to use ladders.

Along the wall was a throne meant only for Demise. No one neared it, nor sat in it besides him. They weren't even allowed to clean it. Touching it was seen as disrespectful.

As Demise and she entered the room, lycanthropes stood from their seats. There was a long, grand table before the throne. If they were surprised by her presence, they didn't show it. She only recognized one person and when she laid eyes on him, she paled.

Demise stood in front of her, glancing around the room before turning to look at her. He took her hand and led her to the throne where he gestured to it. "Sit."

Was she dreaming? She had to be. He wasn't asking her to sit on his throne, was he?

"Primus I-"

He interrupted her, sternly. "My mate will not stand uncomfortably. Sit down, Grace." She blinked at him slowly. She nodded, realizing she was probably taking too much time to comprehend what was happening. She sat down, trying hard to ignore the looks upon her.

Demise stood behind the throne, his hands sitting on the top. Anyone who saw the scene would know immediately that he was her protector, standing above and behind her.

She momentarily forgot about the man she'd just seen, but then Demise spoke and she had to look up.

"Why have you come?"

"We are here by our Primus' request," a female spoke.

"Primus Xerxes, correct?"

"Yes, my Lord."

Grace bit her lip. She didn't know the woman, but Land of Xerx was her home. She was born and raised there. It made sense to her now. Well, not why they were here, but why that man in specific was here. He must have been promoted and now was an advisor to Primus Xerxes.

"What does he want?"

"Blood," she answered. She stood up and took out a piece of paper from her briefcase, displaying it on the table. "He craves a specific blood source. From what we understand, she has moved from his land to yours. We request she give blood. We have her name here, Primus."

Blood? He wanted blood...Oh, Goddess, she thought, why would he want blood?

Demise regarded the individuals for a moment. "Very well. If she agrees and can be found, I see no issue in providing a few blood bags."

"We are very grateful, Primus, and I am sure Primus Xerxes shares our gratuity. We had a large supply, but the blood bags have unfortunately diminished."

"What is her name?"

The woman looked at the paper in her hands again, but it wasn't she who spoke.

"Grace Jefferson." The man who made her pale earlier responded, looking directly at her. "He wants your blood, Grace."

She only had a moment to fathom what was happening before Demise snarled, causing the entire room to erupt in, what only she could describe as, pervasive uneasiness.