Her fae & His fairy

Chapter 43

Warning: Pure smut, knife-play and Azriel being the sub.

This chapter was for my own writing, not that plot based. So it can be skipped. More than one have asked for fluff, so I will make sure to put than in future chapters :)

Euodia:

As night falls upon the city, the bustling streets of Amon-Ra come alive with a vibrant energy that pulses through the very air. The houses, constructed from sun-baked bricks and adorned with intricate hieroglyphs, glow softly in the light of oil lamps that flicker to life as the sun dips below the horizon. Shadows dance across the narrow alleys, weaving intricate patterns that seem to come alive with each gust of wind.

Azriel and I walk through the labyrinthine streets, our footsteps echoing against the ancient cobblestones worn smooth by centuries of use. The scent of sandalwood and myrrh hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the aroma of spices and exotic fruits that waft out from the bustling market stalls lining the thoroughfares.

Music floats on the night breeze, the melodic strains of harps and flutes mingling with the rhythmic beat of drums to create a symphony that echoes through the city streets. Shadows flit past us, their voices rising and falling in laughter and conversation as they make their way from one tavern to the next.

Despite the darkness that now envelops the city, there is a sense of warmth and light that emanates from every corner. Lanterns hang from awnings and doorways, casting pools of golden light onto the cobblestones below. Above us, the stars twinkle in the night sky, their soft glow reflected in the rippling waters of the Nile that flow through the heart of the city.

As we walk, I can't help but marvel at the beauty of Amon-Ra by night. The towering obelisks that dot the skyline seem to reach up towards the heavens, their intricate carvings catching the faint light of the stars above. Statues of gods and goddesses stand sentinel at street corners, their stone faces bathed in the soft glow of the moon.

Everywhere we look, there is evidence of the city's rich history and culture. Temples dedicated to the gods loom large against the night sky, their towering columns and ornate facades a testament to the faith and devotion of the city's inhabitants. The sound of chanting priests drifts out from within, blending with the distant strains of music to create a tapestry of sound that fills the air.

As we make our way through the winding streets, we pass by bustling markets and lively taverns, their doors thrown open to welcome weary travellers and locals alike. The scent of roasting meat and freshly baked bread hangs heavy in the air, drawing us in with its tantalising aroma.

Despite the late hour, the city seems alive with activity, its streets teeming with people going about their business. Merchants call out to passersby, hawking their wares with loud voices and enthusiastic gestures. Children run through the streets, their laughter echoing off the ancient walls as they play games of tag and hide-and-seek in the gathering darkness.

As we venture further away from the city centre, a shift in atmosphere becomes palpable. The houses grow older and darker, their ancient facades looming over us like silent sentinels of the past. Yet, amid the weathered structures, a steady rhythm pulses through the air, its beat thrumming into the very core of my being.

Drawn by the rising cacophony of voices and music, I follow Azriel closely, his presence a reassuring anchor in the swirling currents of sound and sensation. His hand at my lower back urges me forward, guiding me with a touch that speaks of both protection and intimacy.

At last, we round a corner and come upon a dark grey building, its imposing silhouette standing starkly against the backdrop of beige and white-coloured houses. Golden light spills from the windows, casting an inviting glow that beckons us closer. People bustle about, their figures illuminated by the flickering flames of torches and lanterns.