Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction biased in the world created by Anne Bishop in her Black Jewels 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 forum I role-play 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 J and I use them with his permission. Demonica Lunaris is mine.

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

Writer of this chapter: J and Me

Demonica's golden eyes were not hardened nor were they soft. They were empty, neutral in all sense of the word. Nothing could be found in them, not even the slightest hint of life. The woman spaced out completely when the man touched her. She couldn't help get a feeling that he still wanted her…
Maybe he did, but he would always love his power and his Territory before her and she couldn't deal with that. Shem loved her above all else… and though she'd admit it to no one but him, she felt the same. Trauma as a child left her craving true and utter acceptance and love. Not some halve assed, third in line emotion.

No, I'm not. She answered whispering even over the thread, stepping back into his arms, leaning against his body, needing that sense of security. The guards came, called by who she didn't know but she dismissed them. It wasn't comforting that they were far too eager to obey her. Turning in Shem's arms as they waited she sighed and kissed his chest, his collarbone, his lips gently.
What was comforting to her however, was that when he flirted with the Healer, be it intentionally or because of the drug still working its way out of his system, it didn't bother her at all. She wasn't jealous. The Queen felt no ill towards either of them because of the flirting. In fact, she smiled.

Let that bitch be his mule. Let her see him though his ruts from now on, deal with his sexual hunger. The Healer was a light jewelled woman who wouldn't last one night with him, not unless he was painfully careful.
She stopped her train of thought. She was thinking of Raith as a free man and he wasn't. Demonica needed to regain her focus and her love helped when he demanded the Healer to leave. Her eyes sharpened from their spaced out stare only to lock onto Raith's dull eyes. She gave a confident smile and slipped from Shemjaeza's arms and into his brothers. It was business and she knew he'd understand.

His mind touched hers and she arched a brow at him, tensed just slightly. She gave off a strong, confident feeling even though deep under it all she was scared, unsure and insecure in her own power. He'd vanished the guards; he'd transferred the pain of the ring from his body to Shem's. Even without his jewels the man she was facing off with was cunning enough to take out...
Again Demonica cut of her train of thought. Thoughts like that would not help her keep calm. She was the weakest of the Triangle of Queens who'd started the ten Queen circle and she was dealing with a man who walked the edge of the twisted kingdom on occasion before she'd betrayed him. Possibly the most dangerous of all and the only way to get to him had been to mess with him in the most vicious of ways. She'd had to fuck with his heart. Warlord Princes… Passionately Violent…and Violently Passionate.

She felt him open and she pushed forward.
Raith looked so inviting, so… normal standing by the Altar. He looked like the man she'd met in the bookshop over a decade ago and flirted with shamelessly. The man was even wearing the same suit. It was one of those things a woman just never forgets. You never forget what a man is wearing they first time you see him and he makes your heart flutter. You never forget the first kiss, first date. It's the first you remember, good and the bad… The first fight. The first night you cried over him. All that shit.

Stepping up to him, she takes his hand without thought. He was vulnerable now. There was nothing he could do to harm her and she could do everything to harm him.
"Raith…" she purred gently, turning to face him, forcing her eyes away from the chalice that looked red in one light, black in another. Demonica smiled. Why? Because he was still there and not wanting her dead? Because she found the truth in his words she'd been wary of? Because she was on some level releived that the chalice was still intact? She wasn't sure.

Turning her eyes back to the chalice she reached out carefully to stroke its rim, her touch ever tender, just had to make sure it was real. She had to make sure it was real before she called in his Jewels. It was solid under her finger tip and it burned her. Not literally just… something shot though her veins, something distantly familiar. But she brushed it off for now.

Raith eyed them hungrily, his Birthright Red hung in it's steel setting but the Black just that there cold, beautiful as unmarked, as uncut as he'd seen it on the Altar and reached out.

Demonica hesitated, and looked around, something was off, it was too perfect, to controlled even for Raith. She knew the man's mind, knew the pure lack of empathy he could display that threaded through it, but this was too far even for him. He was holding the madness at bay with to much ease yet it was something familiar.
Instinct hit her and she suddenly knew what that feeling from the chalice, it was the touch of a true sister of the Hourglass but different... "You're a Natural Black Widow." She whispered, eyes wide before she had time to register the words coming out her mouth.

Something flickered over Raith's eyes, a hint of unexpectedness, but it was gone as fast as it came and he smiled. "And now you know." He said and slammed the webs down.