5. -
CHAPTER FIVE
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I slip my satin coven robe over my lingerie, tying it tightly.
Talon doesn't know I am wearing it.
Made of silk and the finest lace, one of our fellow members sewed it for me. Thin, cherry red ribbons kiss my nipples, with the sheer design emphasizing the curves of my stomach.
The bows on the thin straps holding the garment in place remind me that I am a gift. A gift just for Talon.
After walking in circles around the compound looking for the ritual room, I finally find it and take Sera's head to the basement.
The basement is easier to find as it is just a straight shot down a hallway at the back of the compound.
I remember it's there by knowing it's next to the industrial kitchen.
The flame sconces light my way to the dead end, where I am greeted by large, thick, metal bars.
I place the platter holding Sera's head against the bars. “Hey Sasha, I brought you a treat,” my voice echoes deeply into the clay-brick cavern cell.
From the shadows, there's scurrying. Sasha crawls on all fours toward the bars, face half illuminated by the flames.
Her eyes are untamed, wild, and on edge.
Unruly, rat's nest, black hair limits the visibility of them.
Tight muscles in her forearms flex and contract as she slowly inches toward me.
Her tattered, scuffed up dress drags against the floor with her, so filthy that the once pristine white fabric has now turned yellow.
She scoots closer, turning her nose up to the air, wiggling it.
“Do you want it?” I ask.
She sits on her knees and nods, tongue rolling out as she pants.
Using the key Bexlee passed to me, I insert the key into the padlock, catching the lock as it gives way.
“Back,” I command as I enter, using my body to shield the entry way. Sasha has a bad habit of trying to bolt and chew on things that aren't pet friendly.
As if her forever bones aren't good enough.
The gate clicks shut and I walk around her puppy pads, placing the platter down in front of her. She waits like a good dog.
“Good girl, Sasha, eat,” I tell her, patting her on the head as she nibbles the brain. Her razor sharp teeth tear a piece off, chewing quickly.
Soon, her small nibbles turn into large rips, taking chunks out of the brain all the way to the white matter. She takes a second to chew and then swallows, dropping pieces on her dress along the way.
She smacks, smearing the brain matter around her face before continuing to chew.
“Gods, you are the messiest dog I've ever met,” I chide.
When Sasha widdles the brain down to the brain stem, she tears it out and sucks on it like a straw.
I bend down to pick up the head, but Sasha growls, cradling it in her arms.
I scoff. “Really? I wanted that, you know.” Then I sigh. I guess if she wants to use it as a toy, she can.
There will be other options for skulls later.
“Fine,” I relent, throwing my hands up.
I'm not about to get bit by her nasty teeth by playing tug-o'war with a super human feral dog.
I turn to leave, but her rough, gravely voice grates my ears. “Walk.”
Of course she wants to go on a walk now - right before the ritual on Lupercalia.
I give her another sigh. “I'm sorry, Sasha, but we have a festival to attend. I promise when we are done, we can play. Okay?”
She scurries on her knees to her toy bin and picks up a ball in her strong jowls before plopping it at my feet and staring at me, waiting.
“I promise, as soon as I am done,” I reiterate.
She cocks her head like she can't understand me. She does. She's too smart for her own good.
“Ugh,” I scoff again, dropping to my knees to pet her behind the ear. A pleased grin spreads across her lips as her back foot thumps rapidly against the concrete floor. She keeps me there for several more minutes before I can pry myself away from her.
I will have to keep my promise to play and walk her.
I make my way back to the main compound, traveling through endless hallways and weaving in and out of rooms. Rose vines hang from the ceilings and the wall trimmings, filling the air with the flowery aroma.
Off in the distance, a commotion perks my sensitive ears. The sounds are strained and shaky, rising and falling in an alternating, uneven pattern.
Lupercalia has begun.
Traveling down hallways, I peek into each room to find Talon, coming up empty.
Next, I make my way to the ritual room, following a set of moans and cries.
Peering in, BellaRyn is on the table that Sera's headless body is resting on, her body pushed to the edge of the table to give Bella room to spread eagle.
Deemer's cock is buried inside of her to the hilt, while Bexlee guides his member in and out of her mouth.
On the workbench is another female, spread wide while a male licks her and spreads her wider.
“Being nosy, eh?” Talon says, sliding one arm around my waist and pulling me to his body while the other clasps over my mouth.
I yelp behind his hand, adrenaline dumping into me and filling my tank.
His breath hits my ear, “Keep peering in like that, and you're going to make me think that you want to join in, and you're not theirs. Mine.”
A shiver buzzes through me, setting my nerves alert.
Using my mouth and waist as leverage, he hauls me away, and I have no choice but to follow.
Not that I am objecting.
My feet dragging behind like a corpse, he hauls me to the throne room, located down the hallway from the ceremony hall.
It's not a ceremony tonight and the ritual room is occupied. I suppose this will do.
As we cross the threshold of the expansive throne room, he maneuvers me in his arms, releasing my mouth with his hand in order to claim it.
Seizing me by the throat, he walks me backwards until I am flush with the wall.
His ferocious movement steals my breath, reluctant to give me a moment to recover until he breaks away.
Pressing me firmly against the wall to ensure I don't go anywhere, he reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out a black, leather collar with pointy choke hooks throughout the material. A silver chain leash with a handle smacks against the floor with a crisp clink.
Shifting my eyes between him and the collar, I swallow the lump of anxiety in my throat. Things are about to get a little unhinged and bloody.
“For you,” he whispers. “I love my mate, and now-” moving my blonde ponytail out of the way, he unbuckles it and seats it around my throat.
Securing it, he pulls it tight, sending a startled gasp out of me as the prongs prick my sensitive skin, “-now I can control your every move.” He pulls on the leash chain, giving me a deadlier poke with the prongs.
My skin pops in my ears as the metal breaches the epidermis.
Crimson liquid weeps out of my neck and down my chest.
I barely notice the pain.
I'm more focused on Talon saying he loves me.
I ooze before his feet, unable to think of words that don't sound cheesy or fake.
“Now,” he begins, producing the same dagger I had used earlier from his boot, “let's pray the ritual works this time.” His skin gives way underneath the tip of the dagger, drawing out the ingredient needed for this to work.
He presents the bundle in front of my face and I, on a pause, open my lips to accept it.
If I want the ritual to work, I have to follow the steps, despite how unappealing the flavor of pennies may be.
Talon presents his bleeding arm to me. Small droplets form around the jagged edges of the wound.
“Good luck juice, am I right?” He jests as I collect his blood, swirling it inside of me, doing my best to evenly coat it.
Something about our mate's blood is meant to aid the power flowing through us and allow J?rmungandr to bless the coven with fertility.
At least there's no plug this time. We used Sera to cleanse ourselves instead of offering myself to J?rmungandr.
Talon's hands move to untie my robe, bringing me back to our current reality.
A sharp inhale hits the air as his eyes trail up and down my half naked body.
His stoic expression lightens up, almost as if the sight of me is calming him.
Even the harshest of frown lines soften in the glow of the sconces.
He cocks an eyebrow before slyly chiding, “for me?” He growls and runs his tongue over his supple lips.
“For you,” I nod, puffing my chest out in pride.
His palm caresses my cheek. “If Deemer and Bex never took control over Banity, you wouldn't have been mine. What a tragedy to consider.”
Yes, what a tragedy, indeed.
Frigid air gnaws at my skin. Across the room from the stone-carved throne, a fireplace roars to life. These cement and clay rooms are so cold year round, and the fireplaces aren't the greatest at heat distribution.
“You're shivering,” Talon points out as my body trembles, both from excitement and from the cold.
Gripping the leash handle, he wraps it tightly in his hand and pulls, sending the prongs deeper into my skin. A cross between a moan and a gasp bubbles out of me. My body flushes against his, sucking the warmth straight from him.
“I know what would warm you up,” he quips, voice full of mischief.
As cheesy as that is, it is silly and adorable. I give him an eyeroll with an amused lip curl as I shake my head at his antics.
My mate is usually solemn. His job as Deemer and Bexlee's commander is of the utmost importance to him. He trusts those two with his life, and they trust him to complete topside missions without any issues.
It's rare to see a playful side of him.
His grip on me remains. My neck stings and burns, but it adds to the excitement coursing through me. “I have one more thing to give you,” he states with his pointer finger toward the air. “Then, your pussy better be spread across that throne seat.”