A/N: Originally this was supposed to be part of the last chapter, but the whole thing just got wayyyyy too long. Great questions were asked in the reviews; I humbly request waiting for an answer, as Bloom's succubus nature will be explored more in-depth fairly soon. Hope you loves enjoy! Make sure to leave me some love on the way out! XOXOX!
Chapter 12
A nondescript amount of time later, Bloom found the courage to get out of the school for witches.
Not that she cared if one were to find her and blast her to smithereens. It would probably make her feel better about herself, about her nature that was so complicated in such an unimaginable way. She was still trying to make sense of how she was able to have two mothers - one with whom she shared blood and another who carried her. She was still trying to make sense of what exactly a succubus was, or if there were any way she could outrun her destiny and the scaly, demonic monster she was created to be.
Was there anyone who could teach her? Was there anyone who could remove her nature for good? It wasn't like she could go to anyone with these requests, especially not Faragonda. She was left to her ignorance and with even more questions than she started.
So much of her fate was unknown. Though she knew who she was, she was still ignorant to everything she could be. She didn't even know what being a succubus meant. From her limited knowledge of Earth mythology, she knew they were creatures who fed off of sex and that was about it, though that seemed to encompass most of her problems. She didn't know how she didn't jump to that conclusion sooner. Perhaps she thought that even in the realm of fairies and witches, some things were just too ridiculous. Apparently not.
Bloom's whole life had been a lie. She didn't know what to believe anymore. She thought she knew who she was, but now she was confronted with a part of her that was completely foreign. How was she supposed to reconcile the fact that she was a sex demon? Not only that, but the only surviving heir and princess of a dead planet? Plus she was the bearer of an unbelievably powerful force of nature? It was almost too much to be true, like she was the stereotypical heroine of a fantasy movie.
Bloom couldn't think about this anymore, not without her brain exploding from sheer overload. All she wanted to was to go back to her room, curl up in bed, and pretend that this whole night never happened. She would deal with the consequences in the morning when she was in a better frame of mind.
She took the long way back out of Cloud Tower, dragging her steps, not wanting to go back out and face the real world knowing she was one of the monsters and not one of the good guys. Her mind ran fleetingly back to her parents - her adoptive Earth parents, the people who raised her, who lied to her - and the hunter troll to which they fell prey. Did she now have more in common with that brutish creature than her friends or humans in general? She didn't feel like a creature of nightmares, and she sure as hell didn't look like one...unless some sort of transformation was involved. Bloom shivered, shaking that thought away.
Brandon was right where Bloom left him, leaning up against the levabike hidden discreetly underneath the shade of the trees at the edge of the forest. He was smiling at her, so damn hopeful it made Bloom sick. He was going to want to know all about it. He was going to ask a million questions. Yet something else she was not prepared to handle at the moment.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Brandon asked, curious at first but then concerned once he saw the look on Bloom's face. "What happened in there?"
"I found out the truth," she answered weakly, unable to make words form properly. How was there any way to explain what she truly was?
"Hey, look at me," Brandon encouraged, picking Bloom up by the chin so that she could meet his eyes. "No matter what that book said, it doesn't change the incredibly kind, brave, and beautiful person you are."
He was trying to be romantic. He was trying to be the hero in shining armor, there to make everything better with a compliment and a kiss. He wouldn't be saying any of that if he knew what she knew. He wouldn't say that if she told him what she really was.
"Tell me," Brandon encouraged, pulling her in closer. "Let me share your burden."
It was a horrible idea, but Bloom was so emotionally distraught that she was willing to take a risk. A moment of silence passed as she gathered the strength to say the words, weaker than she thought but clinging onto the hope that Brandon would be there to support her.
"I'm a succubus," Bloom whispered.
"A what?" Brandon asked, slightly breathless as he went rigid in Bloom's arms. She swallowed down the fear of rejection and somehow found the strength to keep talking.
"I am the daughter of Princess Daphne of Sparks, who was seduced by an Incubus in order to carry his child," Bloom recited from what she learned, saying it out loud somehow making it all the more true. "I was raised by the royal family of Sparks before its destruction and my mother used her last bit of power to send me to Earth."
Bloom let out a shaky breath, voicing a glossed over version of what the book had shown her. She had seen more than she ever wanted to know, more than she ever thought was possible. She always knew that her past must not have been easy to explain, but this was insanity. She didn't even know who she was anymore.
"That's why strange things happen to me. That's why I look the way I do. That's why I'm so angry, why my magic and my transformation are so dark, why I killed my boyfriend. My body is a poison!" she cried, nearly hyperventilating. "I'm not meant to be a fairy. I'm meant to be something worse."
Everything was slipping out, her whole life story, but Brandon just pulled her closer, his nose and cheek buried in her hair as he let her sob. The steady rise and fall of his chest was a comfort as she cried, soothing her in a way that she did not know was possible. Bloom envied how he was so calm when she felt like the world was ending, but then again, the calm was deceptive. She had no idea how he was feeling or if he even wanted to associate with her anymore. She had to know what he was thinking. She had to know if she was going to lose everyone she cared about all over again.
"Brandon speak to me," she whispered, voice vulnerable and pleading. "Please. Say something. Anything. Just - "
"I don't care," he said plainly, firmly as he pushed Bloom back and held her shoulders down, staring her right in the eye.
"W-what?" Bloom asked, taken aback.
She was no idiot. It didn't take a brain surgeon to piece together from the underground kingdom and violent nature that being a succubus was not something that most people would take kindly to. Bloom was expecting to be outcast. She was expecting to be hated, spat on, killed even. But Brandon's sword stayed attached and unsheathed at his hip. His blue eyes conveyed nothing but sincerity. Bloom dared to hope that maybe it didn't matter what she was, that there was a chance to continue as if nothing had happened. But there was an intensity to his stare that intimidated her, that set Bloom on edge and made her wary.
"What you are doesn't change how I feel about you."
"How you feel...about me...?"
Now Bloom was confused. It was like the conversation had taken a complete turn and she didn't know why. This was supposed to be about comforting her, not about his feelings. It was kind of insensitive on his part, but he kept staring her down, kept locking his deep blue eyes with her own. Bloom felt unsettled. Something about this just wasn't right, wasn't clicking.
"I love you Bloom," Brandon stated plainly, all seriousness. Not one ounce of him was joking.
Now Bloom knew something was wrong. She knew that Brandon liked her, sure. He had a a stereotypical crush, but love was something far too soon to jump to. Love was a whole other world, one that she never picked up on from him before. He must have believed that love to be true, though. Bloom could see it in his stare, the way he was looking at her as if she were the most beautiful, desirable thing in the universe.
Funny, that was the exact same way Daphne had looked at the stranger...
The realization hit Bloom like a ton of bricks, causing her to slap away Brandon's hands and take two steps back.
Somehow, she was seducing him, but she didn't know how to control it. She didn't even want to seduce him! Was there any way to stop this? Had she always been doing this to Brandon? When did this start? She had no clue - all she knew was that she needed to get away from him before something bad happened.
Then why was she unable to leave?
Her pulse was hammering, though whether it was from fear or thrill she had no clue. It was like her body was getting intense pleasure out of turning Brandon on, like this was some sort of game. Bloom didn't want to feel that way, her brain very much still in panic mode, but her hormones had other ideas. She knew she should be telling Brandon to run, to leave her behind and get to safety, but instead she stood a few feet out of his reach, watching as he took step by deliberate step back into her space. Her entire body was shaking, though she willed herself not to touch him, not to do anything.
Maybe if she stayed still, if she had enough discipline, then he would leave her alone and they could both go their separate ways with no one getting hurt.
That idea was shot to hell when she felt two strong hands, one on her cheek and the other on her neck, followed by the soft, heated press of insistent lips to her own. Bloom, unable to ignore the chemistry between them, engaged in the kiss for one heated moment before she gathered enough strength to push him away.
"Brandon what the hell are you doing?" Bloom demanded, wiping the saliva off her lips, trying to rub his taste away, hating herself for the way her tongue snaked out to lap it up before she could dispose of it all. He tasted like mint and sweat and something indescribably male that made her mouth parched. She was incredibly thirsty, throat parched and his taste the only thing that made it better. How had she not realized how thirsty she was, how absolutely starved she was of energy, how absolutely desperate she was to slake that thirst.
"I need you," he said vehemently, his voice overrun by lust as he untucked his shirt and started to unbuckle his belt.
"We can't! Weren't you listening to a word I just said? I will kill you," Bloom insisted, trying to speak sense to him. This was moving way too far way too fast...but damn if he didn't smell like the most delicious thing she had ever encountered. That scent was intoxicating, her entire being practically demanding him because she was so thirsty, and she no longer knew if it was him she was trying to talk out of this or herself.
Bloom turned away, unable to keep looking at the man without eyeing him like a tall glass of water. She was ravenous, clutching at her throat with both hands as the red crowded into her vision. It was like she was trying to fight off herself, stamping down an unstoppable demon. She was growing heated, using one hand to fan herself. Brandon's scent was overwhelming, like she could drown in it. She was overstimulated by her primal desires, fighting a losing battle. She just wasn't strong enough...
"I need you," Brandon repeated, stronger this time, and pulled off the last remaining vestiges of his clothing.
Bloom salivated at the sight of his cock. It wasn't the longest, but it was fat with an even fatter head that she already knew would fuck her in a way she would feel for days. Her thighs quivered at the thought of being stretched by that gorgeous cock, the heady scent of arousal and desire swarming her senses.
And that was it. She was done, lost to the lust-fueled rage monster that lied under her skin.
She wasted no time stripping out of her own pants and underwear, then running and jumping into Brandon's arms, wrapping herself around him, and grinding down into his crotch as she kissed him passionately. It was a desperation that drove her, a need to have all of him at once. He stepped out of the pants pooled at his ankles, supporting her weight with his arms as she bounced the best she could on top of his dick. Bloom ran her nails down his back, leaving marks that surely bordered more on pain than pleasure. Still, Brandon didn't voice any complaints as she thrust her hips, enjoying the delicious friction of skin on skin.
Bloom lowered herself back down to the ground and dragged Brandon over to his bike. She reclined backwards against the seat and spread her legs as wide as they would go, no questions about what she wanted as she was beckoning him in closer. Brandon followed like a love-sick puppy, pupils blown wide with arousal, erection standing at full attention as he situated himself between her legs. He ran the tip of his cock across her folds, wetting he head with the slick juices already running down her thighs. Bloom sucked in a sharp breath, enjoying the teasing touch but impatient for more.
"Fuck me," she instructed, purring into his ear, lips pulling tantalizingly at the shell.
The first push of his flesh inside of her was euphoric, the incredibly full sensation even more pleasurable than she originally imagined. He was incredibly gentle at first, trying not to hurt her as he set up an even pace. It was hard to keep balance on the levabike, but Bloom's nails dug into his hips, holding him steady as he rocked into her. The bike shook, the leather of the seat rubbing up against her back and her ass, leaving burn marks, but nothing had felt better.
"Harder," she demanded, running her hands over his chest, scratching the skin until she could see pinpricks of red. "Fuck me harder!"
He gave into her demands, slamming his hips up so hard that theirs met with each thrust. Bloom took down every inch of his cock greedily, walls squeezing against him like a vice. Brandon's hands moved to grip the sides of the seat, sweat beading at his forehead, face red with exertion. Bloom moaned loudly, wantonly, letting him know just how much she enjoyed his cock. Her hands started roaming over her own body, one hand reaching up to knead a breast, playing with her sensitized nipples while another hand slithered down to rub at her clit. The nub was already swollen up, practically protruding against her folds. She touched it and her body spasmed, the area overly sensitive from neglect.
"Baby...yes, oh yes!" Bloom purred, eyes staring up hungrily into Brandon's. She loved the desperation that resided there, the wanton lust he held for her. It was thrilling, made her feel powerful.
One particular stroke had him hitting her sweet spot and she screamed, head canting back and spine arching as she howled in delight. Her legs wound around Brandon's waist, holding him close to her while she kept him prisoner. He didn't stop though. He used the new angle to fuck down into her, which Bloom approved of a hundred percent. A heady cloud fogged over Bloom's vision, a reddish haze that she almost thought was tangible. Or maybe it was and she was too focused on fucking Brandon to notice how his touch felt like pure energy that channeled straight into their hips. Brandon's lips latched onto the column of her throat as he worked his mouth over the skin, his pace becoming choppy as he got close to the edge, veins in his temples visibly throbbing from the intense exercise along with the rest of his vasculature.
"Come for me baby," Bloom encouraged, licking her lips as her skin tingled anticipating the thrill of impending orgasm. "Let me feel you come."
Her word was all he needed.
Brandon came hard and warm inside her, his body twitching and jerking as she milked his orgasm for everything he had. After a moment, his thrusts slowed, his movements ceased, and he slumped overtop of Bloom completely limp. She didn't care, pushing his body off of hers so it fell to the ground with a thud. All Bloom did was stretch her abused muscles and bask in the afterglow of absolute pleasure.
She was so full, her body sore but stated in a way that made her feel complete. Her body was practically humming, purring with contentment, the monster inside her pleased with their handiwork. The red haze faded away, the monster settling down back in Bloom's bones, its work done for now. Bloom blinked a few times, her memory hazy as if coming out of a dream. She was disoriented, unsure why she was naked and covered in marks around her thighs and torso.
Then, the memories sharpened into crystal clear focus, and she remembered every single second.
"Oh my God..." Bloom whimpered, finding walking difficult as she hobbled over to the prone and unmoving body on the other side of the bike. "Brandon..."
She collected her underwear and pants on the way, slipping them back on while shame flooded her face. She had just fucked Brandon, a guy she didn't even like that much, in the middle of the woods up against his bike, and now he was...and now he was...
This was just like Andy.
That only made the hyperventilating worse, tears pricking in her eyes as the full implications of her actions hit her. Of course, that didn't change the fact that when she went to kneel by him in search of a pulse, she didn't find one. With shaking hands, she flipped Brandon's body over and found a very familiar sight. He was blue and cold, like his body had been drained of all energy. His cock was the darkest part of his entire body, just like Andy's was. This was too similar to be coincidental.
She could never have sex with men. Or sex with anyone. Her body was a weapon that could steal lives, another byproduct of her newfound succubus nature.
Bloom hated herself. Brandon was only trying to help and his repayment was death. He didn't deserve this. He was only trying to be a good friend, only trying to get to know the real her, get her to like him like normal people do. Instead he got stuck in her crosshairs and she took him down with her. Tears welled in her eyes which turned to gut-wrenching sobs the more she allowed herself to cry. She was a terrible horrible person. She was a murderer. She deserved to die.
How was she going to explain this to anyone? How could she tell anyone that Brandon died in the middle of the woods, naked and outside of Cloud Tower. How could she tell anyone that she was the one to murder him...with her own body. She didn't know what the magical outlook on Succubi were, but from what the book said and what she could gather from her few interactions with her powers, she could guess that they were hated, and rightly so.
Her life was over. She couldn't tell anyone about this. She couldn't go back and confess to her friends and the Specialists that she had killed one of their own. They would never forgive her. They would crucify her, outcast her, despise her, and Headmistress Faragonda would lead the crusade. Though she had only known these people for a short bit of time, the idea of being without a home and a family again so quickly was a terrifyingly painful thought. But she also couldn't go to the authorities with this. There was still so much she had yet to accomplish, so much she needed to get done. She needed to be stronger to go save her parents - her adoptive Earth parents, she corrected herself. She couldn't do that from a prison cell.
So, stuck between two impossible decisions, she did the only thing she could do.
She ran.