Chapter One
The sharp edge of her clawed fingers tapped noisily against the hard, solid surface of the wooden table. Irritation bubbled beneath her skin, making her blood boil in a dangerously virile manner. It had been a long time since she'd felt anger, loathing. Yet here she sat, glowering at the man across from her with a sneer playing over the delicate mask of her face. Ciraz was a burly man, littered with large, lithe muscle that put most men to shame. The man had a smile that could cause the hardest of Amani women to swoon and beg for his attention – and yet this night, the fool had picked Graive to croon to.
The Castanic across from her brushed back his pristine white hair from his handsome face. A sigh left his lips as he lowered his emerald gaze to stare at her tapping claws. "Is something wrong, sweet?" Ciraz said smoothly, his tongue almost curling around the word 'sweet' as if he could seduce her merely by the utterance of the pet name. Usually, on a normal day, Graive's patience and apathy knew no bounds. Today, however, marked a special achievement on her behalf – the discovery of an emotion long forgotten. Ebony lips drew into a thin line as she frowned, but remained silent for the moment. "Has anyone ever told you how gorgeous your body is? The things I'd like to do to it…"
He made a sound of enjoyment in the back of his throat, as if he were imagining all the dirty things he could do to her. Within her own mind, Graive thought of similar things – unfortunately for him, it had nothing to do with the acts of intercourse. The witch gave a roll of her eyes, a soft sigh escaping between her painted lips. "What kind of things?" She mused, deciding to indulge in his dull little fantasies, if only to fuel her own disgust toward him. Graive was enjoying this feeling far too much. The table creaked lightly as Ciraz leaned forward, his forearm stretching across the way toward her in a suggestive manner.
His eyes, which would have been beautiful to any other woman, merely made her think of the vibrant colors of the chemicals back at her lab. They gazed deeply at her and Ciraz had the audacity to touch her. Fingers; long, powerful and confident griped her delicate chin, holding her steady as he grew even closer. His pectorals pressed against the table now as his mouth moved to brush against the lobe of her pointed ear. "I'd like to turn you over this table and take you from behind. Hard, fast, till you screamed my name." His voice was a dark temptation, but it held no power over Graive.
I'm wondering if there is even an inch of intelligence within that thick skull of yours. She thought inwardly, her cool eyes regarding the man across from her with impeccable ease. The art of scrutiny was one practiced and honed; Graive was a master at deciphering the subtle emotions of those around her. Passion, desire, it gleamed within the depths of his jaded eyes. The feel of his hot, clammy skin against hers made Graive stomach twist into unpleasant knots. The urge to growl at him was almost too much, but it was quickly tempered by the will of her composure. Licking her lips, Graive offered him a slow, sensual smile.
"How tempting…" She purred, moving back slowly to remove herself from his grasp. A chill ran down her spine, and Ciraz took this as something positive. The witch made no move to dissuade him either, as her overall appearance seemed thoroughly relaxed and entranced. The air around them suddenly seemed far too…hot. Delicate nostrils flared as the smells of the tavern made her nauseous. Ale, sweat, the sickly sweet smell of the barmaids perfumes – it was all overwhelming vile.
Standing abruptly, her svelte form became apparent in the dim lighting of the tavern. Graive's mocha skin seemed alive as the flickering flames of the lit candles cast dancing shadows upon her. Ciraz's hungry eyes devoured the sight of her. Her hair was thick and full, wavy as it cascaded down over slender, yet imposing shoulders. Bangs hung over her forehead in a straight cut fashion, framing her exotic features and insinuating the refined contours of each and every detail of her façade.
Thick, black lashes bordered cool, almost white blue eyes – mimicking the deadly chill of winter. An intricate design of makeup was painted over her features; a thick smoky look enhanced the beauty of her eyes. On the bottom corner of her left eye, her makeup extended down in a manner of odd design. What looked like coils of smoke could be seen slithering outward, as if it wished to consume the rest of her. Lips were laced in the same, dark, ebony hue and yet there was a soft gleam against the surface of their delicious curve.
Tonight she adorned a body suit of sorts. Holding a deep, royal purple coloration, it extended over every inch of her slender, petite frame. The fabric was a silken cloth, gleaming impressively within the light as if it tempted all those around it. To the touch, it was smooth, deliciously soft. Exposing little flesh, it was likely the most modest outfit the Castanic knew how to design. A sharp V cut over her chest, revealing deep, mocha skin in the dim light of the tavern. It just barely covered the necessities; giving just enough to leave the imagination wanting more.
A golden piece of jewelry wrapped around her feminine neck, like a snake, yet the edges are defined and blade like. It extended down, between her breasts and tipped into an acute point. Spike like pieces clung to her spine, pointing down until it reached a whip like metal tail connected to her suit. Whether it was for decoration, or a weapon, one couldn't quite tell. Like the spine, it was connected in parts and swayed easily with her body, giving her an almost lizard quality. Golden heels covered her feet, making it so that each slow, sensual step was a click of attention to all those around her.
Calculating eyes were focused squarely on his façade for a long moment before the witch leaned forward. Feminine hips swayed a moment before tilting to the left, her leg shifting as Graive crooked a clawed finger at the man. "Why don't we go somewhere private, mhm?" Like a drooling dog, Ciraz stood a second later with a triumphant look on his features. He thought he'd won, oh…how wrong you are, pet. The hiss of words was heard in the back of her mind, but not spoken as the Castanic woman allowed him to slip his arms around her thin waist. Turning around within his embrace, her backside slid across his groin suggestively and her body moved toward the door of the tavern. "I can promise you won't regret this." He murmured near her ear, the heat of his breath making Graive grit her teeth.
I can promise that you will. She mused inwardly, those eyes of hers glinting with devilish amusement. So many emotions were ransacking her mind, excitement, anger, amusement. It made her heart pound heavily within her chest, her blood rush through her veins like a raging river. Sleek muscles danced in an erotic fashion beneath the smooth surface of her flesh with each graceful step. Graive's lips didn't part with words; instead she led the lustful man towards her home. Velika's expansive roads seemed endless, but the housing district wasn't far from the tavern.
The cobblestone roads seemed to cackle as the click of her heels tapped against it, the sound echoing against the tall, brick walls. Like a slithering snake, Graive slipped from the man's grasp as she pulled him along by his hands now, his lengthy legs easily keeping up with her long, confident strides. Ciraz's left hand moved, brazenly running over the round, smooth surface of her bottom. A coy grin slipped over the witch's painted lips; a husky laugh escaping into the air to encourage his behavior almost.
The seductive sway of her hips left Ciraz itching for more. His hands moved to grasp her waist, sliding up and down over her curves in a possessive manner as Graive continued to walk. As the streets of Velika formed into the walkway of the housing district, the statues of the goddess Velik stared at her accusingly. All Graive focused upon, however, was the exposed shape of her nipples. Idly she wondered…what is so marvelous about breasts? With a derisive snort, the woman brushed aside the absurd thought and pulled Ciraz toward her door.
Instead of normal locks, Graive's home was locked with a security measure she'd created herself. Different types of magical wards, even a curse here or there to punish any who dare trespass without invitation. With a wave of her slender hand, an echoing click could be heard, like the sound of something unlocking. A moment later the door swung open and Graive stepped to the side and motioned Ciraz in. Let the games begin.
He took no time getting used to the place. Long legs carried him through the expansive apartment with ease, those eyes of his overlooking the sleek, elegant decorations. "You're pretty neat, aren't you?" The man murmured, taking a finger and sliding it along the surface of a nearby table. No dust. Graive tilted her head to the side innocently, as if she didn't understand exactly what he meant by that. "I'm a woman." She commented simply, an apathetic shrug of her slender shoulders was given as Graive waved her door closed.
With a flick of her wrist, she placed all the wards and curses back upon it. This was as much a prison as it was a home, at least to those who became victim to Graive's curiosity. Ciraz removed his shoes, falling lazily upon the thick cushions of the seat near the bedroom. There were no paintings decorating the walls, no smiling faces of family, friends. The walls were a dull, dark purple – like the color of rotting flesh. Of course, the Castanic man noticed nothing of the sort.
The air was filled with a sweet musk, candles burned on the nearby tables, their flames flickering. Their shadows danced on the walls, giving way to the imagination that monsters were in the room. Near the door was a rack of weapons, one particular being a rather large, imposing great sword. It was intricate in design; flawless gems molded into the solid, shining surface of it. The blade was long, thick, and double-edged with jagged teeth near the tip. The hilt appeared to have the design of a snake coiling around its length.
Of course, within an instance Ciraz was on his feet once more and padding toward the impressive object. As if caressing a woman, his fingers slid over the smooth surface of the blade with admiration. "What a beauty…" He murmured, his voice sounding heavily awed. Funny - the thought process of men; women, weapons and war. Glancing sideways at him, her cool eyes regarded him with dull amusement.
"Does she have a name?" He asked breathlessly, licking his lips as if he wished to kiss the weapon. A slender brow rose in question; was he really that intrigued? The witch slipped on a façade of annoyance, her lips pulling into a thin line. "Yes, her name is Graive…and she's growing impatient." The words were practically hissed out, a low huff escaping her lungs as she sighed heavily. Graive crossed her arms over her chest, looking down at Ciraz expectantly.
Almost instantly he was snapped out of his trance, a slow, boyish grin touching his handsome features as he laughed. "Are you jealous, sweet? Don't worry; I've got plenty of attention reserved for you." He stood up, his lean, powerful body moving to slid against her. Fingers grasped her forearms and held tight, trying to pry her arms away to expose her chest to him. Ciraz's emerald eyes devoured the sight of her mocha flesh greedily. Licking his lips, his excitement grew as he thought it inevitable that the night would end in a pleasurable experience.
Graive stood there, her breath coming in short pants from the sheer amount of control she had to exercise. Her stomach twisted in knots, making her feel sick as his hands moved to roam her body. Turning her around, Ciraz's made sure to press her supple bottom against his hard groin. Graive winced as his fingers curled into the softness of her left breast, his teeth nibbled at the lobe of her ear, and his breathing was ragged. "You're going to scream my name…" He murmured, the words almost a command.
Graive's only sound was a feigned whimper of compliance. The cold edge of her eyes, however, narrowed upon a darkened corner of the room. Slowly, her body shifted, dancing them in a circle so that Ciraz was forced to face the opposite direction they'd previously been in – which also exposed him to the shadow in the corner. Leaning forward, the witch's hips moved back, her body sliding along the length of Ciraz as she sighed heavily, as if she were enjoying it. "I think…" She purred deviously, turning to wrap her arms around his neck.
"It will be my name screamed instead." Confusion filtered over Ciraz's handsome features as Graive gave him a look of utter disgust. He went to move back, but something hard and powerful stopped him. The Castanic man backed into the broad chest of an Amani beast. Looming amber eyes glared down at Ciraz with a fierce, feral hatred. In the next second, a clawed hand slammed into the man's jaw. Ciraz collapsed onto the ground a crumpled mess. Graive looked up to her pet, a slow smile forming on her lush, ebony lips. "Good boy…"