RHYSSAND
SHE WAS A VISION OF DESIRE, a goddess in human form. For too long, the revelation of Rhyssand's deception had festered within her, a betrayal that cut deeper than any blade. Yet, beneath the fury, a spark smoldered—one that had ignited the moment their paths had crossed. It was that same fire that consumed her, drawing her to him despite the anger that simmered beneath the surface.
Artizea's heart pounded in her chest, a relentless drum beat that matched the yearning in her soul. "Who do you think you are—" she accused. "You ran away when the going got tough, and you're running away now, yet you claim to care for me—"
"I do," he admitted.His expression was a mask of regret and longing, his voice a rough caress that sent shivers down her spine. And so much more. He wished he had said.
"I have bled," she snapped, "Your plan is dead—" The words stumbled out, harsher than she intended, and her breath caught.
"That's… good…" he murmured, almost to himself, the smallest sigh of relief escaping his lips.
She stared at him, searching for something—remorse, love, truth. "Do you still wish to leave?"
He said nothing. His eyes flickered once, unreadable—then he vanished.
Artizea jolted upright, "Rhys—"
She scanned the opening until she saw him, breathing too hard. For a moment, their gazes locked, and the world seemed to pause. His eyes were hungry, while hers were filled with desire. Every step forward she took, Rhyssand took one back. At first, she thought he was teasing her, or maybe taunting her. It was then she realized she was giving her one last chance to be the one to run away. She had been running from herself her entire life. She had had enough of running.
She closed the distance between them, pushing him against the trunk of a large tree, her lips crashing into his once more. Her hands slid up his chest, tugging at his shirt until it fell open, revealing the taut muscles beneath.
Rhyssand leaned down slowly, gaze intense as he trailed kisses from her cheek to her sweet spot behind her ear. He felt her breath hitch, then a moan escaped her lips as his hand traveled up her thigh, while his tongue traveled down the column of her throat, branding her with each kiss.
The warmth of her body against his was electric, sending a jolt of anticipation through him. She was mesmerizing, exuding a confidence that was both intoxicating and irresistible. Their movements were frantic, lingering touches grew desperate, fueled by a need that went beyond words. Clothes were shed with reckless abandon, leaving them bare to each other and the elements. She jerked off his belt as he swiftly undid the last layer of her dress. He was not about to piss her off with his wish that she had kept it on, he said to himself…With each article they lost, the fire within them grew.
Rhyssand felt his wings shiver behind him, and his spine began to tingle. Artizea shuffled closer, and Rhyssand reclined until he could stretch his legs out and lean on one arm. He reached up for her, and she crawled into his lap, only in her underwear and garter belt.
Their lips met again, once. Twice.
She welcomed his touch, her own hands exploring his muscular frame. Every caress, every kiss, was calculated to drive him to the brink and hold him there, teetering on the edge of oblivion. Rhyssand surrendered to her ministrations, his body a willing canvas for her to explore.
Rhyssand gripped her hips tight and raised her covered entrance toward him, then pulled her garter off with a skillful tug. A wicked smile curved his lips upon seeing her body's reaction. There she was, almost completely naked, though still she always did bless him with her erotic accessories. He pulled the string away, then let it go.
Artizea hitched upon the stinging impact.
It was that moment Rhyssand now understood the human fascination with such garments. He held her tighter as he breathed her in for the first time in weeks. "I do not wish to go," he said, his voice a seductive purr that made her heart race.
Artizea tilted her head to look at him. She met his gaze with a sultry grin. With a sudden, unexpected burst of strength, she pushed him back, and Rhyssand found himself flat on his back, staring up at her in stunned surprise.
"You don't get to move yet, or touch me. I'm going to enjoy your body first. Then you are allowed to enjoy this, Rhyssand, but not yet," she challenged, which sent a thrill through him. "I have yet forgiven you," she hissed. "This is merely… "
Rhyssand chuckled, "Something most enjoyable, I know, princess…"
Artizea scoffed, tightening her thighs around him and pressing her hands against his shoulders to balance herself better.
"It is like that, is it ?" he murmured, a smirk playing on his lips.
"It is," she shot back. Just then, an idea was formed.
"This is madness… Illegal. But-" Rhyssand stopped talking when Artizea leaned forward until her nose was a mere inch from his. Her hair fell around him like a curtain, her perky breasts squished against his chest, nipples hard as pebbles.
Rhyssand felt his cock twitch at the sensation of her body on his. The heat grew between their bodies.
Her breath was warm on his as she whispered, her voice low and filthy, "You are going to do what I tell you, and I just might give you a reward."
Rhyssand's eyes darkened at her words. His breath hitched for a moment, until a growl, deep and inhuman rumbled from deep in his in his throat, coming from somewhere in his chest. His hands gripped her thighs, fingers digging into her soft flesh. Her thighs twitched in response, and she felt herself start to drip.
Proving her efforts were for naught because he was still enjoying this. Or at least, those were his thoughts.
Slowly, she sat up, her left hand trailing across his chest to rest against his neck. She squeezed, smirking at him. "You are going to taste me devour me, and you won't stop until I tell you… or if I reach my peak."
Rhyssand was too stunned to speak, so he just raised her hips, lifting her until she was just over his face. She sat down, a flicker of concern for his ability to breathe passed her mind, but that quickly disappeared when his nose burrowed into her clit and his mouth dived between her lower lips. He kissed her lower lips, tongue dipping inside her quim.
She gasped, her body arching, and she gripped his hair in her right hand, the other flying up to fondle her breasts. She squirmed at the feeling of his hot tongue moving inside her and groaned aloud when one of his hands squeezed her ass cheek. She squeaked in surprise when he suddenly grabbed her ass and pushed his face deeper into her core. He devoured her with a hunger that left no doubt about his desire. His tongue was relentless, tracing patterns that made her arch her back. Her thighs trembled at his enthusiasm, and she gasped when his fingers slipped inside her heat, exploring her with a fervor that was beginning to border on worship.
She screamed when he sucked her clit again, his lips and tongue working in harmony to drive her over the edge, and her toes curled, her lower stomach tightened, and she saw white for a moment, the sensations becoming too much.
Emboldened by her sounds, Rhyssand did his best to escalate her high. Her orgasm hit her like a tsunami, waves of pleasure that had her lifting herself off his face in a scramble, sliding back on his soaked chest, and her eyes rolled as she felt her walls clench and tremble around nothing. She was a quivering mess. But Rhyssand did not reach for her. Even if all he wanted was to assault her breast in the most creative way imaginable.
Once she caught her breath, she positioned herself in her prior pose; her hands resting on Rhyssand's shoulders and her ass resting on his now rock-solid cock. She leaned forward, her hands braced on his glistening chest, and began to grind her hips against his hard length, still dripping from his earlier attentive care.
He flinched. His wings twitched wildly at his sides.
"What's the matter, Angel?" she purred, her voice low and seductive. "You look like you need something. Ask me nicely."
Rhyssand groaned. Entire body throbbing in need when she ground against his hardness again. His eyes locked with hers. "Tizea… Please…" His voice was hoarse, his control slipping as she teased him mercilessly.
"Please what, Rhyssand?" she mocked as she continued her slow, torturous movements, her core grinding against his throbbing erection.
A growl escaped Rhyssand's throat, "We shouldn't go any further. Tell me to stop—"
"No!" She growled in response. Hers was deeper, primal.— Don't stop. Don't you dare stop."
His hands gripped her hips, lifting her effortlessly once again. "Tiz, I can't be trusted. Please tell me to stop—for your own good—"
"Don't stop—" Her eyes sparkled with defiance as she leaned down, her lips capturing him in a searing kiss. She tasted his frustration, his need, and it fueled her desire.
"May I? Princess?" He begged, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You may." she allowed.
She leaned down to kiss him again. With a breathless whisper, as their kiss deepened, she left his control slipping further. His hands, gripping her body tight, slowly roamed over her body, caressing her curves and gripping her ass cheeks so hard she felt her lower lips spread. She slowly sank and moaned with the thickness she still had.
"Bear with me, princess," Rhyssand huffed. "You're going to have to take this like a good girl."
The want in that moment, the tear that slid from her eyes, her wet heat slid down against his hard length. He sank into her heat, and they both groaned as one, their heartbeats syncing together. Aroused beyond belief.
There was no room between them. Her breath hitched as she felt her walls take him, with every suckle, and every few pushes, until it became an impossible barrier. "…it hurts…"
He gently flipped her over, his body moving over hers with a fierce intensity that took her breath away as he pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, his other hand sliding down to grip her throat gently.
His eyes gleamed with desire. "Better?"
Artizea's eyes widened upon the sudden jolt of pleasure, her dragon spirit stirring within her, a primal force that responded to his dominance. "Better." his body moved over hers with a fierce intensity that left her breathless. He knew that she wanted control, and now that she had it, she no longer wished it. She broke the kiss only long enough to murmur against his lips, "I have a wish."
He smirked, his voice a teasing drawl. "And what is it you wish from me now, princess? How can your friendly, charming celestial prince be of service?"
"More…"
"More?" he echoed, feigning innocence. "You think you can handle that? More of me…more of us?"
She tilted her chin toward him, "Watch me…"
"Gladly."
He lifted her to a knot behind his back
After a moment, they finally relented, both of them panting breathlessly for different reasons. Artizea looked down at him, her heart pounding with a mixture of satisfaction and fear. He smiled, truly smiled, the brightness of his eyes softening upon meeting hers, feeling her, knowing she was alive and breathing… was worth any time spent apart. But he wasn't done. his body moving over hers
"What are you doing??" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"You asked for more, did you not? I've been good enough. I shall take my reward now, Tizea–" he said, his wings opened with a fierce intensity.
She growled, her dragon side coming out as she fought back.
"…Are you threatening a fellow celestial? I can growl, too, you know." As if to prove his point, Rhyssand let out a low, rumbling growl, the sound reverberating through Artizea's body. She felt her dragon spirit rise, a surge of calling that threatened to consume her.
"Were you planning on sleeping with him?" he asked.
She blinked. "What?"
"I asked," he repeated painfully slowly, "Were. you. planning. on. sleeping. with. him?"
"You were watching me?" she breathed.
"I never stopped watching you," he confessed shamelessly, "Not for a single moment."
"You are such an asshole—" she spat.
"Call me anything you want," he murmured, leaning in until their noses almost touched. "Just answer me. Did you say my name on purpose, knowing I would hear? Did you want me to come? Did you want me jealous?" His hand slid up her arm—slow, possessive. "Did you want to punish me?"
Her breath trembled.
"Or," he added softly, "Did you truly plan on replacing me with some fleeting distraction?"He lowered his head, lips brushing her cheek without touching. "Did you think we were done?" His voice turned to a growl. "Did you think I was done with you?"
Artizea swallowed hard. "That is more than one question per cycle…" she whispered, trying and failing to steady her voice.
His fingers slid under her chin, tilting her face up. "Fine then," he said, voice dropping into a dark purr. "Just answer the one."
Her pulse beat wildly, "Yes…" she breathed out, not bothering to deny it. She did want to hurt him; she did wish him to feel the pain she left, even if it meant lying about something so unbelievable.
Rhyssand exhaled sharply, a single, disbelieving tsk. He pulled her against him, "You really do not understand what you are to me, do you?" he said roughly. His thumb traced her lower lip, as if he were memorizing the shape of her mouth when she kissed him. "That is my fault," he murmured, breath brushing her cheek. "I have been too careful with you—too afraid of scaring you away. Too… gentle." His forehead pressed to hers, as his eyes closed in thought. "I keep telling myself I do not own you…" He let that lie hang between them, sharp as a blade. "Artizea," he whispered, "look at me." His voice dropped into something primal.
She lifted her gaze slightly as she saw nothing but darkness.
"You are mine." His hand slid to the back of her neck, drawing her closer. "Every curve of your body. Every breath you take. Every drop of your cursed blood." His voice dipped, "You touch only me… and by all the gods as my witness, you belong only to me."
Her breath hitched.
"If you want out of this," he said, jaw clenched with something painful and desperate, "Tell me now." If you wish to live your life in a lie of a good and faithful, pure, untouched, unmarked princess, tell me. But say you want this…" His eyes burned. "…And I will kill any man you touch after, that is a vow."
Heat, anger, longing—everything collided at once. The population of the world narrowed to just them, just the storm between their bodies. Thought dissolved. Instinct took over.
"Kiss me, if you accept."
Artizea hesitated for a mere second; she fell for the trap. again, and worse, she would do it again.
"HHMPH," she yelled into his mouth. With a hard shove, she took him all in. She gasped when he held her close and flipped her over again. She strangled him, looking back to see his hands supporting her. Slowly, he lifted her, not too far up, not too fast, just right where he wanted her.
"How about now?" he whispered against her skin.
She nodded, unable to find words. "Much Better…"
He moved his hands away, giving her back her power. One hand traced her spine, reverent yet desperate, and for a moment, she almost forgot what it was like to breathe without him. His hand found the back of her head, the other finding his favorite nipple, to torment. It was as red as her cheeks. She hissed out a moan, gripped his shoulders, then began to lift herself, then, sinking again, she breathed out. He had taken a breast to mouth, while drawing circles over the dotted line, while she melted into him with every action.
"I require assistance..." she whimpered.
Rhyssand grinned, releasing her breast. "You wish for me to do all the work while you take credit, and that is absolutely fine with me…" he said. His wings folded around them in a protective cocoon. "On one condition." Then took her hips and slammed into him.
"Ha!"
"You have such a hard time looking me in the eye…" His thrusts became more urgent as he chased his own release. She did her best to meet his movements, but his force made her gasp, and she felt Rhyssand's climax rising; hers was close as well. "Look at me, Princess," he commanded.
She did, and in his eyes she found not lust, anything but.
"You speak like a future queen, but right now you're nothing but my trembling little princess again," he whispered, "You defy me, challenge me, and now", he gave a sharp thrust, "You reach for me." The assault only continued as her legs shook with ecstasy, "I told you to run from me," he said quietly, "Yet you run toward me. I told you you cannot trust me, yet here you are testing my restraint… why don't you do anything I tell you to, huh?"
"I don't know…"
Rhyssand took the strap from her garment and let it go once more, watching her shudder. "No MoreLies—" he snarled, "Tell me the truth, tell me what I wish to hear."
Her eyes glistened. "Because I care for you… too much."
He grunted; finally, granting her the release she craved. She clenched her walls, then his hot seed filled her again. Clearly, she had learned nothing. But it felt so good.
Their breathing synchronized for a moment, their bodies entwined beneath the canopy of stars. Artizea rested her head on Rhyssand's chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. She had stolen his tunic, and he did not protest.
"Don't think this means I've forgiven you," she muttered, her voice muffled against his skin.
He laughed softly, his hand brushing through her hair."It is a start," he replied, a hint of a smile in his voice. But in the quiet moments that followed, neither of them could deny that they were one step closer to finding their way back to each other.
The air around them was still charged with the remnants of their union. Rhyssand held her close, his eyes troubled. "Rhys," she began hesitantly, "You said I was part of a plan. Does that mean you knew about the prophecy? About Tiamat? "
His smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful expression. "Yes," he admitted, his tone serious.
Her heart sank. "Did you ever think to tell me?"
"At first, I was in denial that you did not know," he said simply. "Then I continued in that delusion because I assumed, for a while, how you described your family, that it was something your family would share with you. I was wrong, and like them, I wished to protect you as well." He studied her, his eyes softening. "I am sorry, Artizea."
"Are you telling the truth?" she challenged, her voice edged with frustration.
"Yes. I am." He took her hand in his, not looking away. "Ask me anything, anytime, anyplace, and I will always tell you the truth."
She looked down at their hands, the glowed veins connecting, then flaring to life, a vow of a god…her emotions warring within her. Finally, she asked, "Do you think I am destined to become like her? Like Tiamat?"
Rhyssand reached out, his other hand brushing hers. "You are not her. You are you. Whatever fate has in store, you still have a choice. Everyone has a choice. Do not forget that."
Artizea looked up at him, her heart tightening at the sincerity in his gaze, as she slowly fell off to sleep.
Rhyssand smiled back, though a memory plagued him as they lay entwined under that tree. He looked at her sleeping form, guilt gnawing at him. He could not bring himself to destroy her newfound happiness in the months she spent away from him. But when she awakens, he will tell her everything. No more excuses.
"Was I real to you, too, Tizea?" he whispered.
ISHTAR
Far above, in the celestial realm. The Queen of Heaven had plans in motion, and her son's attention was far from where it needed to be. She stood before the council, as radiant as ever.
"This is what we have been warning you about, Your majesty—" one lord declared. His voice rang through the chamber. "The Crown Princess of the human realm—a half-blood abomination—has desecrated a temple dedicated to us, our power has decreased fifteen percent—"
"You mean the throne's power, correct? My throne."
"The people—"
"My people. Actually, you have irritated me, Guards—"
Within a moment, the lord was taken to the cellars, where he would be snuffed out or wingless creature."
"Now, where were we, ah yes—The price of mixing our blood with theirs. has been debated and gotten nowhere, do you know why—because the council was scared of a half blood king—have ways across the world—it was not I who passed this judgment, for Mortals are unworthy of our gifts, and their corrupted offspring threatens the balance of our world. That is known, yes?"
The other gods murmured in agreement, their glowing eyes narrowing as they reviewed the scenes of destruction below.
"This is no isolated incident." Ishtar continued. "It is a sign—a warning. If we do not act now, their kind will destroy everything we have built. We must end this experiment. It pleases me to say that now is the perfect time we have been waiting for. Where we must wipe the slate clean and begin again."
A god seated at the far end of the chamber raised a hand. "And what of Gilgamesh?" he asked. "He will not stand idly by while we erase his kingdom."
The queen's lips curled into a cunning smile. "Leave Gilgamesh to me. He will be dealt with."
FIN
Elsewhere, Fin, who was currently in his sparrow form, perched on the edge of a golden railing overlooking the council chamber. His sharp eyes scanned the gathering below, noting Ishtar's peculiar behavior. Something about her presence felt… wrong. When she slipped out of the hall with Azreaphel, Fin did not hesitate to follow. Flapping his wings quietly, he trailed them through the sprawling corridors of Heaven, his instincts screaming that something sinister was afoot.
"Why now?" Azreaphel asked Ishtar as they walked, his voice low but laced with curiosity.
Ishtar's smile was cold, her divine beauty masking the venom in her words. "Because my son is blinded by sentimentality. He's distracted, enamored by that mortal woman. He doesn't see what's coming. This is the perfect time."
Fin's heart sank as he processed their words. He turned, preparing to fly back to warn Rhys, but a sudden burst of energy stopped him in his tracks. Before he could react, Azreaphel appeared before him, his eyes gleaming with malice.
"Well, if it isn't The Princeling's pet," Azreaphel sneered, reaching out to grab the sparrow. "I must thank you, little bird. If Rhyssand hadn't left, none of this would be possible."
Fin struggled in his grip, his tiny wings flapping furiously, but it was no use. A flash of golden light illuminated the corridor as Ishtar stepped forward, holding a glowing cage in her hand.
"Careful, Azreaphel," she said with a mocking smile. "This is no ordinary sparrow. But an extension of the prince's will and soul." With a flick of her wrist, Ishtar opened the divine cage. Azreaphel unceremoniously tossed Fin inside, slamming the door shut.
The cage shimmered with celestial runes, binding Fin in place. He flapped his wings helplessly, glaring at Ishtar through the bars.
"You won't get away with this," Fin squawked, his voice filled with defiance. "Rhyssand will-"
Ishtar's laugh echoed through the corridor, cold and devoid of warmth. "Oh, little bird, I already have. And by the time my son realizes what's happening, it will be far too late; he will thank me when It is all over ."
As Fin struggled within his prison, Ishtar and Azreaphel moved swiftly to set their plan into motion. And while the lovers remained unaware of the life that might grow from their defiance, the heavens were preparing for war; neither of them would suspect what was happening until it was too late.
Ishtar's gaze darkened as she turned to Azreaphel. "Make sure no one interferes. I've waited too long to let my son or his mortal distraction ruin this."
Azreaphel nodded, his expression grim. "What about the bird?"
Ishtar smirked, her eyes gleaming with malice. "Let him watch, It is what he does best after all."