So how are all of you enjoying this tasty bit of literature? I know I do. Okay, so if any of you have read it, Prince of a Dark Kingdom by Mizuni-sama has chapter fourty out! Congrats on such a great job Mizuni-sama! Keep up the excellent work! It is an incredible story for those of you who have not yet read it. I definitely suggest checking it out.
Disclaimer: I don't own jack so back off.
Chapter Two
The car, according to the outside of the windows, worked just like the Knight Bus did just without all of the motion sickness and jerking. It rode just as smooth as a muggle car and the back seat was cut off from the front so it was eerily silent. There was no conversation the whole ride. Just the feel of Voldemort's hand through his hair and the ever present feel of his trembling magic. It waited as if it were a living, caged thing about to be set free. Their journey took about twenty minutes. When it finally came to a stop, Harry sat up slowly and looked out the window at the enormous manor that would be his home from now on. He could feel the heavy magic protecting the place. Where ever they were, it had a ton of ancient protection spells on it, nasty ones too.
"This is Snake's Crest Manor, Harry. It was left to me as the last heir of Slytherin. This is where we live."
He was swept up in Voldemort's arms and carried out of the car. Harry gasped as they walked quickly up the path to the house with Lucius following a respecting few steps behind. Everyone knew who was the ruler here. The doors opened of their own accord and Harry gulped anxiously. Every Death Eater in the place turned toward them and bowed. Their Lord waved them off, hurrying past with his precious bundle. Each Death Eater he saw had a different expression. Some were triumphant, as their master had been, some were angry at the sight of him, and some had looks of disbelief. Harry would have demanded he be allowed to walk on his own but he didn't feel up to arguing his point with someone that he knew held his life in his vengeful hands. Voldemort didn't take kindly to being defied. He was carried up an elaborate staircase and down several winding hallways. There were so many twists and turns that he couldn't have memorized his way out if he had wanted to
A large black mahogany door sat at the end of one hallway. All of the other doors were insignificant compared to this one. Around the edges of it were runes he couldn't identify and at least a hundred tiny etchings of silver serpents. On closer inspection, Harry realized that the runes were familiar. They were some of the same runes that decorated his body. His runes were Crafted on by the Demon Prince, Asa, to keep his less human nature from consuming him and to act as a medium so that he could access his demonic magic easier. If he were to guess, he would say that these runes were not placed here by any Scribe that still walked this Earth. He would also say that they were some sort of protection wards. Voldemort had no doubt killed the poor Scribe who Crafted them.
"Did you kill him?" He blurted in a bad case of word vomit.
He desperately wanted to slap himself at the look on Voldemort's face.
"Who?"
"The Scribe. Who Crafted the runes over your door." Harry answered timidly.
The Dark Lord cocked an eyebrow but nodded. Nothing more was said on the matter. What's done was done and there was no way that Harry could save a man who was already dead and likely had been for some time. The door swung open at a single touch from it's master. When the inside was revealed, Harry's heart jumped into his throat. It was Voldemort's bedroom. Bugger.
The room was done in different shades of emerald and dark green with silver accents throughout the place. The bed was the largest one that Harry had ever seen and had dark green sheets with a translucent green canopy around it. The bed curtains were tied to the posts by silver cords. His fiance deposited him on the bed as gently as if he were made of glass and Harry's pulse sped. This was the bed that they were going to...An unintentional, heated blush crept into his cheeks. Great. Voldemort sat in the large, plush chair across the room, taking the time to untie his shoes and put them under the comfy looking seat. Harry did not take his off. He didn't want to get comfortable. He wanted to not be here at all. Then he realized just how stupid that thought was. He likely would spend the rest of his life here. Better hurry and get comfortable when he wasn't being molested and jumped. He slipped his boots off. Voldemort took the time to get a good look at his fiance while Harry wasn't looking. The last Potter was wearing black combat boots, and the uniform worn by Elites of the Demon World, the Raml Askaree: sleek black pants and a black, high neck tank top. A shining silver sword hung on his back that had black runes down it. The body beneath was trained hard and was lean and as lithe as a serpent's. He was absolutely breathtaking. Shining hair fell to his lower back in a slim braid, black as the darkest night sky. Delicious. And he was all his.
Harry slipped his sword off of his back, propping it against the nightstand by the bed. Voldemort was watching him with a look that made him feel naked and he hadn't even taken off his shirt yet.
"Do you enjoy feeding, truthfully?" The man asked while leaning his head on his hand and watching intently.
He smiled wryly at the Dark Lord.
"Every. Single. Time. I've never had food that wasn't wonderful. Even the tiniest touch is a small feeding. It's the best feeling in the world."
His simmering hunger was making Harry feel playful and slightly giddy. Like he had been drinking too much. He undid his hair in one tug of the bow holding it back, letting it fall over his shoulders like a black tide. He crawled slowly over the bed, towards the chair.
"Have you ever been with a starving Incubus, Tom? Why don't you come try it? Come find out how it tastes." He purred seductively, beckoning the clearly aroused wizard to him.
His brain was filling with thoughts of food. Of touches and tastes and sweat slicked skin. The potion was nearly gone from his system but it didn't matter. Voldemort finished off the distance
from the chair to his lips in seconds. Harry found himself pinned to the bed, his lips being ravished and he didn't mind in the least bit. In fact, he encouraged it. His legs found their way around the Dark Lord's hips and the hunger fully engulfed them both.
Harry's hands roved over every crevice on Voldemort's body but still, he couldn't get enough! He needed skin to skin contact and he wasn't going to get that with the layers of clothing separating them.
"Off!" He pleaded huskily, barely even conscious of what was coming out of his mouth.
"Please..." He groaned when nothing happened.
Voldemort was staring at him with eyes quickly clouding with lust. Two spells later and the air hit his bare body, making shivers run up and down his skin. Harry barely noticed though, so entranced he was with the feel of another against his skin once again. He had missed this feeling. And he was so hungry...So incredibly hungry. He captured the Dark Lord's lips again, engaging him in a tongue war. They battled for dominance but the human part of Harry knew that it was a futile move. The Dark Lord always asserted his dominance in everything he did. He was always the ruler. The teen Incubus relented and allowed Voldemort to take control. He felt a strong hand tangle in his hair before jerking his head back by it roughly. The pain was quickly replaced by pleasure when the feeling of a hot tongue and teeth hit his brain. This was...new. Rough was good. All of his other lovers had always been so careful for fear of his or Miya's, or any of his other "protectors", wrath. Harry decided he liked this new way of doing things. He was more than willing to let Voldemort take the reins.
O
Miya threw the door to her father's throne room open furiously, cracking it in her anger. The potion had worn off earlier and damn it she would not take this laying down, even if Harry did! She would give up blood forever before she let her charge become some Dark Lord's brood mare! Her Elite were no one's bitches! Especially her best friend, whom she had trained and practically raised personally! The walls shook with her anger and her father heaved a heavy sigh before turning around.
'Just like her mother.' The Vampire Lord thought sardonically and pushed a piece of his white as snow hair from his face.
Ice blue eyes watched her approach, her black outfit and amber hair flowing out behind her in her rush to his side.
"My dearest and most precious offspring, what has upset you so greatly that you very nearly succeed in bringing my meeting hall down around my ears? Where is your favorite pet?" He asked, carefully annunciating his words so they could be understood through his odd accent.
Miya was practically breathing fire by the time she reached his table.
" HE! TOOK! HARRY! AND I BETTER BE YOUR ONLY OFFSPRING!!" She screamed out
her rage.
Jesse and Micah, who had followed behind silently communicated that, yes, Miya was VERY scary when she was angry.
"My beautiful flower, I require you to elaborate on this 'he' you speak of."
"Don't play coy with me, Father. You know who I'm talking about."
Rakhai's eyes darkened, his countenance quickly gaining in seriousness.
"The Dark Lord."
"Yes."
He sighed, setting down the human pen he had been writing with.
"What would you have be do, my lovely one? You know that I have no jurisdiction over the Over World. My kingdom doesn't stretch to that place." He said calmly and quickly her eyes flashed again.
"You have jurisdiction over Harry though! He is MY ELITE!! I WILL NOT GIVE MY GENERAL OVER TO BE SOME DARK LORD'S BROOD MARE!!" She seethed furiously.
He stepped back as flames began to lick the marble tables edge. He'd had enough of his clothes ruined when she was just a baby. No need to add to that sad pile. He touched her head gently, successful calming her enough so that the top of her head was just smoking with her anger. He didn't need his plans that sat on the table ruined either. Jesse raised an eyebrow.
"Very well, my most beloved buttercup. I will see what I can do. What say you, Master Jessethepha?"
Jesse walked over to the two with a quirky smirk which Miya glowered at.
"I agree with Miya. The Elite of the Underworld are the special treasure of the Royal Family. To have their General so...abruptly taken without courtship or appeal to her Ladyship and yourself, my Lord, is a crime indeed." He said.
Miya and her father both exchanged wicked grins that Micah smirked at.
"So who do I get to kill?" He asked haughtily.
XD
Harry woke feeling very groggy and even more sore. However, it was a pleasant sort of
pain. The kind that spoke of long nights and longer feedings. There was a warmth around him that had not been there in the weeks past. That thought however, brought him back to reality.
'Oh, fucking hell.'
He shot up in bed. The memory of why he hadn't felt this way in over a week crashed down on him and he remembered where he was. Harry suppressed a groan. He had fucked the bloody Dark Lord! Said Dark Lord chuckled thickly from behind him.
"I see you're awake early, Kitten."
Harry trembled inside. What if he was…He quickly surveyed his body with a medical spell. Cut up and bruised pretty badly but otherwise unharmed. He was so relieved that he plopped back down onto the plush bedspread. However ill he thought of the company, Harry found himself pleasurably full. The Dark Lord had such vitality that he could, more than likely, sustain him on his own. That was good because something told him that Voldemort didn't share. Voldemort decided to ignore that little display but instead ran a hand through his hair.
"Hmmm...I think a shower is in order. Would you agree, pet?"
Harry merely hummed. Dark Lord or not, he certainly had his priorities straight. He felt the weight on the mattress ease somewhat and in mere moments, the sounds of the shower water running were heard. He was so full that he was purring on the cozy bed. He didn't want to get up yet. Voldemort crawled back in next to him, pulling him against his body once more. Harry could feel him smirk against the skin of his back.
"Come, Kitten. We are both very dirty indeed. We must get clean before I can give you a tour of your new home."
