The cold sensation caught him in snare, at the dark appendage forced past his lips, the sharp claws digging into his jaw. He choked and gagged until Ātercruor came into his throat, it burnt like Hell.
When Sepheron pulled away, it was with the too- sweet taste of over ripe fruit, bringing back memories of long lost childhoods in the gardens of Rome. He sputters and wipes his mouth on the sleeve of his robes. Atērcruor watches him with narrowed eyes.
"You are so obedient!" The creature purrs and Sepheron looks away, starting to shrug back into the robes, before Atērcruor stops him with a hiss.
"No, Sepheron!"
Those shark claws were on him once more, cold and dark. Sepheron takes a shuddering breath, visible in the cold air. He quickly puts the robes on and fastens the clasps, the creature gone. He crawls onto the cot, covered in rich furs. The scent of death still lingered.
YOU ARE READING
Male tenebris
FantasyThe plague is ravishing the land. A hound cultist is sacrificed in body and mind.
