Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction baised in the world created by Anne Bishop in her Black Jeweles Trilogy. The characters are however are original and copyright of their maker. Keep in mind that not all of these characters are mine. I use them with permission of the maker. This is a thread from Ebony, a fourm I roleplay on. The link is my homepage if you wish to check it out. As such not all of this is written by me and again is used with permission.

Shemjaeza Malakhim and Raith Malakhim are characters made by Jabez and I use them with his permission. Demoncia Lunaris is mine.

Place: Hayll
Characters: Green Jeweled Prince Shemjaeza Malakhim
Black Jeweled Black Widow Warlord Prince Raith Malakhim
Grey Jeweled Black Widow Queen Demoncia Lunaris

Writer of this chaper: Jabez

Raith's shoulders burned, pain lancing through him with every shuddering breath. He tried keeping them shallow even, but every so often his body spasmed, sending searing pain across his back and down the nerves in his leg. He wouldn't scream though, wouldn't budge, hate and the promise of death filled his pale eyes as he looked out across the Hall.

What should have been his Hall, his Keep, his Territory.

They'd struck well, they'd struck true and now the whisperings of the web Kin had built, the dark prophecy he'd seen had come true.

He tried to shift, to take some of his weight with his wrists, lessen that burning in his arms for a moment but it was impossible, his arms had been tied behind him and pulled over his back until he was forced to bend forward or dislocate his shoulders. That would happen if they pulled the rope higher lifting his body off the floor but for now The Queen was happy just to have him bound for all to see.

They called it strappado, Hayllian Hanging, long, painful, intended to wound not to kill, slow torture. Raith hissed, the only noise to come out his throat, they'd taken his Birthright. They'd taken his Offering. Stripped him bare and then she'd slipped that golden ring over his cock because no other fucker had the balls to. Bitch, whore, betrayer, he'd slice her fucking eyelids off her fucking face just to force her to watch as he paid her back one hundred fold for this.

Whore, fucking whore, but the Warlord Prince had to admit she's played it well. How long had she been planning it, how many years had he known her?
Waiting, wanting, seducing his brother.

Waiting for that perfect moment to strike, his Offering. Raith face pulled back in to a rictus of a smile causing the guards to step back even though he was bound. Yeah fuck you shit for brains; you know what I am now don't you. Actually that was a lie, only Kin knew what he was, what he had been before the Offering, only the only other Black Widow Warlord Prince in the Realms knew that there was another one.

His body spasmed again, his whole body in agony and Raith bit back the scream he wanted to issue, he wouldn't give her that satisfaction, never, he'd give her nothing ever again.

Raith had made his Offering, his dark dive into the Abyss, reaching out with pain and fear and undeniably fierce want and desperate need in an effort to create tangible threat to what they had seen coming and that had been his undoing. The snakes the two Black Widow Warlord Princes had seen rising up in Terrielle had been more numerous than they thought, and Raith, unknowingly, had had one in his own garden. She struck just before dawn, his own brother betraying him into her arms which turned from welcoming to cruel in the quiet sanctuary of the Altar.

Memories flooded in, Raith had turned, confused that there were people in the Altar, he hadn't finished, it wasn't safe, where was the Priestess? Why was his brother there? He'd been woozy and still partly in the shadowy landscape of the Abyss, and that had given them the advantage.

Demonica had wanted his dark power for her own, both knew he'd walk away with darker than her Gray, but only Raith knew what he was prepared to kill himself trying to obtain, so she'd let him make his Offering and then struck in that soft time between still making it and finishing it.

All Raith could remember was her face as she'd caught sight of the Jewel laid out on the Altar, and the look complete shock as she realized what it was and Raith had grinned, cold, vicious and victorious, the Black, HIS Black, and watched as hers had turned from shock, not to the look of warmth he'd expected but to one of cold lust then he'd known, whether from Black Widow's instincts or not, he'd not hesitated, not even thought he just struck. But he was weak, half in another world and unused to his new strength and the guards, Shemjaeza and Demonica had matched that hastily thrown strength and Raith had fallen deep into the Darkness till all he could do was to turn inwards stop his chalice shattering leaving his body for them

And so here he hung, for her pleasure.