Bethann's mother had a foul explosive temper, and her father was just as strict. As soon as she could form sentences, her parents drilled into her a laundry list of expectations she could never meet.
She was harshly reminded of her place every time she stepped out of line. Her knuckles were achy from being constantly rapped with wooden spoons. Her cheeks stung from being slapped. Her hair was thin from the times her mother dragged her across the room by her ponytail.
And that was when her mother was being merciful.
There was a discreet mage healer who was kept on staff for the times her mother went too far. He was a professional man, who would heal Bethann without any scars. Her parents paid him quite well to keep quiet about what was happening.
While her father never hit Bethann, he committed a worse sin. He would sneak into her room at night and force a 'special relationship' on her. It was their secret, one that she was too ashamed to tell to anyone about, even today.
Bethann soon learned her place in this harsh world. She was molded into the daughter her parents wanted, with the only expense being her heart.
She married Aristride, without complaint, when she was twenty-one, the same age as Leandra.
Bethann didn't love Aristride, and he didn't love her. She knew about his relationship with his best friend, Woodrow Banks. He hadn't been as discreet as he'd thought.
Even after they married, they didn't sleep together for years. Bethann knew Aristride had his side lovers, but she didn't care. She also knew her gay husband wouldn't care if she took a lover herself, but the damage done by her father made that too great a hurdle to even consider. Instead, she poured herself into her work with the Council of Five.
But eventually both Aristride and Bethann's parents pressured them into having children. It was a terrible task for both of them, but they produced Leandra and Gamlen. Once they had their heir and their spare, they were relieved to go back to their old patterns, their marriage duties fulfilled.
Bethann thought her heart was too damaged to love anyone, but when she held her children in her arms, she felt this fierce protectiveness that choked her and made it hard to breathe. She swore to herself that she'd never become her parents.
But that was easier said than done.
Bethann had so many wounds. They festered, gnarling her soul in an ugly knot. It bubbled out in a rage that she couldn't always control. She'd find herself snapping and losing her temper when she least expected it.
Her children feared her and she knew it. She often made them cry accidentally. She loathed herself, and then twisted the situation in her mind and blamed them for not knowing better.
Aristride was a rather docile man, who took her abuse silently, but he was fiercely protective of their children and never allowed her to lay a hand on them.
She was grateful for that… Not that she could ever admit that to him.
When Leandra had finished learning all her letters, Bethann tried to start desensitizing her and prepare her for the family's business. But Aristride put his foot down once again.
In this, Bethann did fight him. Her children's hearts had to harden like hers had, to not confuse themselves and empathize with their property. To understand that there was a difference between a person and stock.
Aristride was adamant that their children have a normal childhood.
Bethann wanted to be better than her parents, so she'd eventually agreed.
But now… things were a mess. Gamlen had humiliated the family and abandoned his duties. And Leandra had not only whored herself out to a knife-ear, but a mage.
Bethann wondered if she was too forgiving… too soft. Would the discipline her parents instilled in her have prevented this?
Bethann pulled on her dark red cloak, obscuring the Orlesian mask over her face. The mask was also dark red, with black and gold lines in angular patterns similar to the Amell crest.
Her heels clicked, echoing in the hallways of the Viscount's Palace. The midnight air was frigidly cold. Her skin prickled with goosebumps. She clutched her black briefcase closer to her, paranoid that she was being followed.
The guards that were supposed to be on duty had been relieved tonight, so Bethann was free to move about the palace.
She made her way to the Viscount's throne room where the Council of Five were already gathered around a large ebony table in the middle of the audience chamber. Everyone was wearing a unique mask. The other high-ranking associates were standing around, looking at each other for an inkling of what this emergency meeting was about.
Grand Cleric Elthina was perched on the Viscount's throne, it's large imposing stone surface etched with harsh black lines in the angular symbol of Kirkwall. The Grand Cleric looked diminutive nestled inside it. Her half-mask was pure white and had shiny diamonds dripping down her eyes like tears. Her pale lips were painted with a pink heart. And her voice was thin and sharp, full of disappointment.
"Quite a mess your family has made, my dear."
Bethann walked to the bottom of the steps and kneeled. "I will fix it at once, my Saint."
"You'd better," Viscount Perrin Threnhold barked, pointing an accusing finger. "After all those favors your husband cashed in, I want results!"
His golden mask had spikes around his forehead like a crown, framing his face so Bethann could see his snarl.
"Honestly, I'm disappointed, dear niece," Fausten Amell simpered behind an angular sharp red mask like a jagged claw. "If your father was alive, he would never stand for this nonsense."
Bethann flinched at the mention of her dead father. Leandra had been rather close to him, too close. He'd doted on her in a way he never did for Bethann. But she'd recognized the inappropriately hungry gaze he gave Leandra when he thought no one was looking.
Bethann hadn't needed to think twice. She'd discreetly purchased some potent demonic venom, so concentrated she only needed a drop in his tea to put him permanently to sleep.
Bethann had saved a drop for her mother, for when the time was right, but the old woman was already rotting away in a nursing home, her brain lost to dementia. It was just a matter of time before the Maker took her.
Bethann rose from her kneel and marched up the steps into the audience chamber proper. "I understand my family is under a lot of speculation, but I have a proposal."
She pulled out a file from a folder in her briefcase and placed it on the table. "This is Malcolm Hawke's Circle file, my House Mage. While he may not be impressive at a glance, there are many notes from his instructors stating they believe he's purposely suppressing the extent of his talents. Considering he made it as a Spirit Healer, I would wager he'd fetch a fair price in Tevinter."
Bethann stepped in line with the other associates, hoping that was all that was needed of her.
Knight-Commander Guylian grabbed the file and squinted at it. His silver mask was blocky and square like the helmet on a suit of armour. And, paired with his size, he looked like a behemoth. "That knife-ear was always trouble. I should have shipped him off long ago."
"Then we agree." The Viscount nodded, his golden mask glinting.
That was rare for the two of them. The Knight-Commander and Viscount were always competing for power, and there were rumors that Lord Perrin had plans to throw the Templars out of Kirkwall altogether.
Not that Grand Cleric Elthina would ever allow that.
The remaining Council member in the black raven mask finally spoke. "Let's not forget we have the eyes of the press still on us." Lady Alvah Black's accent was distinctly Antivan, and she pressed her dark gloves together and held them to her chin as if she were praying. "If we make the elf disappear too soon, we may add to the rumors."
"Then what's your suggestion?" Lord Fausten asked impatiently.
"I have an idea."
Grand Cleric Elthina raised her dainty hand, covered in a white embroidered glove. She waved at a portly man with a plain black robe and mask to come forward. "Lord Henriet Coklan, are you not a judge?"
Usually, members of the Council only addressed one another, unless they were displeased. The Lordling was clearly nervous at this attention. He immediately dropped to his knees and grovelled.
"What can I do for you, my Saint?"
Elthina's pale heart lips curled in a sadistic smile. "The Council will arrange for you to take on that silly civil rights case. We'll fast-track the court date so we can have that troublesome elf on the next ship to Tevinter. Make sure the case gets thrown out."
"Of course." The judge's nose kissed the floor as he bowed again.
"That takes care of one problem, but we have more." Lady Alvah's hands were still steepled together, as she pondered the problem. "The Shield's men were not able to take care of the Rivaini noble, nor the journalist. They will be trouble."
The Knight-Commander huffed. "It was not my men that were the problem. You've failed to take down that Rivaini many times now."
Lady Alvah sighed, squinting in annoyance. "I warned you all the Omenmas were famously resilient." She leaned forward hiding a smirk behind her raven mask. "Besides I'm not working with my Crows, am I? Just untrained Templar rejects."
The Knight-Commander flinched before he stood up angrily. "So this is my fault?!"
Lady Alvah shrugged. "I'm just saying, this is what you get when you skimp on quality."
Knight-Commander Guylian growled. "You think your overpriced ponces can do the job! Then send them!"
Lady Alvah's chilling laugh echoed through the room, making even the air around them seem colder. She leaned forward, her dark chestnut hair peeking out of her hood. "Then if it's that important, the Council had better pay the proper price." She waved her hand casually. "The Omenma safehouse is very defensible, with magical tech that isn't on the market. And after the last shoddy assassination attempt, I doubt they would allow any strangers on the property. Our best chance is to hit him during the court proceedings."
"I'm not sure your services are worth ten million sovereigns," Lord Fausten snorted.
"Well then whatever happens next is on your heads," she shrugged back. "Better hurry and finish the job, though. We may all be unmasked soon."
"Enough!" Grand Cleric Elthina snapped, clearly panicked by the idea of being revealed to the public. She straightened herself on the Viscount's throne. "Everyone, and I mean everyone, will donate a portion of their profits to the Raven to get this mess taken care of. Understood?"
The rest of the Council grumbled under their breath while Lady Alvah preened happily.
Suddenly, an unwelcome intruder burst through the doors.
Everyone reached for their weapons in alarm, but relaxed to see it was only Gamlen, completely bare-faced.
Gamlen didn't bother bowing. He stepped inside, his blue eyes wild and delirious. From the sway of his steps and the strong smell wafting off him, he was drunk.
Again.
"Heard there was a meeting," he said, words slightly slurred. "I have something to add."
Bethann's heart constricted in panic. Her idiotic son was going to get himself killed or worse. She marched down the steps and grabbed his arm, seething. "What were you thinking?"
Gamlen's voice was loud and blustery. "You're always looking for flesh to sell, right? I have a name for you."
"Gamlen," Bethann growled. She was ready to drag her son out by the ear.
But the Grand Cleric waved her off. "It's alright, Bethann. The boy is just overeager. Let's hear what he has to say."
Gamlen shook his mother off and stumbled up the stairs. He threw a photograph on the large ebony table. Displayed was a familiar dark handsome man with a silky beard and long ponytail posing for a mugshot.
Maurevar Carver.
"He's a Templar, so he's physically fit. He'll make for a decent laborer or lab rat," Gamlen said. And with a sneer, he added, "I vote for lab rat."
Knight-Commander Guylian took the photo, a clear grimace underneath his bulky mask. "Carver has been a pain in my ass for a long time." He threw the photograph back to the center of the table. "Alright, I agree."
Lord Fausten sniffed. "Well, I see no reason to disagree."
"Nor I," echoed Lady Alvah.
The Viscount seemed to be the only one uneasy. "The Carvers are a prominent Templar family… If they find out-"
"How would they find out?" the Grand Cleric interrupted. "They've disowned him, haven't they? We have a better use for him than to leave him rotting in prison."
The Viscount slumped his shoulders, clearly outnumbered. "Well, if everyone agrees, I'll order the Guard-Captain to do a prison transfer."
Gamlen grinned gleefully and finally bowed his head, the way he should have from the start, his greasy black hair falling over his cold blue eyes. "Thank you, Council."
Then he left as abruptly as he came, whistling happily.
Lord Fausten clicked his tongue. "You didn't raise your children right, dear niece." He spat his last word with clear vitriol.
Bethann gritted her teeth. As much as she hated to admit it, she had to agree.
—
Malcolm ducked into the hedges surrounding the Amell estate. The bushes were shaped to look like famous classical statues and probably needed to be trimmed every day. He kept to the shadows, watching yet another security guard pass by with a bright flashlight.
He knew he shouldn't be here with Meredith breathing down his neck. He had come so close to being Tranquilized, but he couldn't ignore Leandra when she called for him.
Malcolm peeked at his phone, reading his old messages from her.
Malcolm, there's something I need to tell you that I can't do over the phone. Can you come over tonight?
He hadn't seen her in so long, he had eagerly typed out, Of course! I'll head to Mara's right away.
Actually, I'm with my parents now, and they have me on lockdown like I'm a teenager!
I'll just go through the window like always.
You can try but there are bars in my window now.
I'll find a way through, one way or another. Just wait for me, babe.
Malcolm felt confident when he'd said that, but as he looked at the criss-crossed bars on the windows, he wondered if it would be better to take a different approach.
Was there a side door? But what if he tripped an alarm? Could he slip into the sewers and go through the basement? But he immediately discarded that idea. He avoided going through the sewers specifically so he wouldn't smell.
It didn't help that Leandra's parents had hired more security and they were prowling the territory like a pack of loyal mabari, trying to sniff out intruders like him.
Malcolm considered his options. It was dark enough that he could use an invisibility spell and climb up the rose terrace. He was confident he could reshape the metal bars, after all of Chef's lessons on building things in the Fade.
He was debating the best way to break in, when he realized that the security guard had finally gone inside and he couldn't sense another one nearby with his life aura spell. He melted into shadows and climbed up the rose terrace as nimbly as he could.
Thorns scraped Malcolm's hands and clothes, but he was so used to pain at this point, he didn't notice. Not when Leandra was almost close enough to touch.
Soon he was at Leandra's window, and he inspected the bars of her cage. The bars were a new addition, all connected to a singular metal rim, encircling the window and welded onto the stone walls of the mansion's exterior. Malcolm figured that if he made a pair of hinges to attach them to instead, it would be possible to open and close Leandra's cage without anyone noticing. Perhaps it would make it easier for him to come back.
He chose to start reworking the metal on the left side, coaxing the pieces into the right shape. He found the new hinges forming quite effortlessly.
Was reality always this easy to shape?
The metal sparked, red light glowing against his hand.
Leandra's face appeared on the other side of the glass. She must have noticed the strange light. She slid the window open. "Malcolm, is that you?"
"Of course, it's me. Who else?"
Malcolm dropped his invisibility spell so she could see him and his heart fluttered, seeing her face light up.
"I'll be inside in a moment," he promised, flashing a white grin.
Leandra stared at the metal, reshaping itself in Malcolm's hands. He was almost done installing the new hinges.
"What are you doing?"
"Giving you a door to your prison," he said matter-of-factly. Soon he started loosening the rest of the edges to pry the cage open.
He was almost finished, when a voice below them shouted, "Who's up there?"
A bulky security guard shined his flashlight on Malcolm, blinding him. The man started reaching for his walkie-talkie.
Using his life aura spell to aim, Malcolm shot a flash of light at the man.
Before the security guard could sound the alarm, he collapsed to the ground, snoring loudly.
Malcolm blinked a few times to get the spots out of his eyes.
Leandra looked down at the security guard in shock. "He's okay, right?"
"Don't worry, babe. He's just sleeping." Malcolm pried open the bars, the new hinges creaking, and hopped inside.
He grabbed the metal on the corner and formed a little handle so it was easy to open and close the bars as needed.
"There," he grinned, rather proud of himself. He kept his voice low. "Now I have an easy escape."
He froze when he saw that Leandra was dressed in the same pink see-through nightgown he had met her in. But this time she was completely naked underneath.
Malcolm immediately pounced on her, his mouth drawn to hers like a magnet. She yelped in surprise as he carried her to the bed.
Her strawberry tongue was so much sweeter tonight. He never thought he'd taste it again. He pressed her into the mattress, his hands tracing her skin through the silk.
He reached for the buttons of his pants, eager to undress when she pulled away and gasped out, "Malcolm, I'm pregnant!"
Malcolm was so surprised, he jumped off her, as if her skin had burnt him. He was suddenly unsure what to do with his hands, and his ears drooped as he processed the news. "Are you sure?" he asked dumbly.
Leandra's face tensed with impatience as she crossed her arms. "Of course I'm sure. My period was due a week ago! And I got a positive pregnancy test!"
"Shit," Malcolm uttered before he could think better of it.
Leandra flinched, tears pricking her eyes. "You don't want our baby?"
Malcolm rushed to Leandra's side. "No, no. It's not that I don't want them- It's just so soon, and we never talked about kids."
Leandra shoved him away, tears streaming. "Well, we have one now whether we like it or not, moron! Or are you asking me to get an abortion?!"
Malcolm's eyes widened, flinching as if he'd been slapped. "Of course, not!" Malcolm felt his throat constrict, unsure if he could explain to her his apprehension without sticking his foot deeper in his mouth. He paced the room as he raked his fingers through his curls, panic overriding his senses.
Leandra sobbed into her hands. "I knew it! You don't want to be a father!"
"No-" Malcolm choked out. "Of course I do, but… What I mean to say is…" He gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to punch the wall. "I don't know how to be a father! I'm going to fuck up!"
Leandra stopped her sniffling, her face softening when she realized Malcolm was trembling. "Why would you say that? You're the best man I know."
"I'm not," Malcolm protested bitterly.
There were so many things stopping him from being the man and father Leandra needed him to be. He was still a ward of the Circle. Meredith had it out for his head. Leandra's father's words echoed in the back of his mind about what kind of life would he give her. They were going to have to make a break for it quickly, and live on the run, if nothing worse happened first.
But Malcolm pushed all of this out of his head, because all he could think about was-
"I'm only good at destroying things!" he cried. "I'm going to fuck up! You don't know what I've done!"
Leandra walked up to him, and took one of his quivering hands, wiping her wet face with the other. "There's nothing you could do that would make me fall out of love with you."
Malcolm refused to look in her eyes. "Are you sure about that?"
Leandra forced him to meet her gaze with a pointed finger. "I'm sure." She squeezed his hand. "Talk to me."
Malcolm was silent for a long time, a storm brewing in his eyes, but Leandra just patiently waited for him to say something.
Finally, in a small voice, he said, "I told you about my mom, right?"
"Not much," she replied. "Just that she was good to you."
"Real good," he nodded back. "She was the sweetest woman that ever lived. She had baggies of candy in her purse that she'd pass out to whoever needed it. She did everything she could to give me a happy life but… my father was a rotten piece of shit."
Leandra's pretty face twisted in a disapproving frown. "You shouldn't speak about your father like that."
Malcolm's golden eyes flashed, unable to keep from glaring as he uttered, "He used to beat my mother to a bloody pulp for any reason he could think of. If she burned his meal. If there was a sock on the ground. If he stubbed his toe. If he got yelled at at work. If his dog lost at the race tracks. And when he was tired of beating on her, he'd move onto me."
He watched Leandra's face fall, her mouth agape in horror.
Malcolm's face cracked, his throat closing up as tears stung his eyes. He didn't want to remember his mom's bruised face. He didn't want to remember the familiar ache in his body.
"I was a coward most days. I didn't stand up for my mom. I didn't protect her like I should have."
"Malcolm," Leandra's voice was thick with tears. "You were a child."
"It doesn't matter," he spat. "I failed her. Even that night I-"
He cut himself off, not ready to remember.
Leandra pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around him so he could feel her warmth against his chest. He breathed in her calming jasmine scent. He let his arms hang at his sides, too ashamed to touch her.
Malcolm couldn't keep the tremble from his shoulders. He didn't want to tell her the truth, but he knew she had to know what kind of man he was before it was too late.
"One night, my father was pissed… really pissed. My mom had been talking to one of the neighbors, and my father just decided she was cheating." Malcolm's voice was quiet, almost a whisper. "So he started beating her and beating her and screaming that he was going to kill her. He just wouldn't stop. I didn't know what else to do so… so I… I…" He gritted his teeth, choking on his last words in fear of Leandra's reaction.
She squeezed him in comfort, quietly waiting for him to finish.
A tear splashed on his chest and he realized his face was wet. How pathetic. But he couldn't stop and soon his shoulders shook violently as he sobbed out, "I killed him… with a spell… and I don't regret it." He hung his head in shame knowing he deserved no forgiveness. His heart gnarled at the truth. "My mother took me and we fled, but someone called the Templars. I was taken to the Circle."
He expected Leandra to pull away in disgust but she rubbed soothing circles into his back as he cried. "Malcolm, I'm so sorry."
Why didn't she hate him? He blinked in confusion, his eyes stinging. "Now do you see why I'd make a terrible father?"
"No," Leandra pulled away and cupped his cheeks, wiping some tears with her thumbs. Her touch was soothing. "You protected your mom like you always protect me. You're going to protect our child the same way." She pressed her forehead to his. "You are not your father."
Then she kissed him, and he tasted the salt of both their tears. He could feel a shift in his soul as a wound deep inside him started to heal.
When they pulled apart, he found his heart pounding in a good way this time. The news was finally sinking in. He laughed, shaking off his nerves. "I can't believe I'm going to be a father."
It felt unreal.
With an ecstatic giggle, Leandra said, "I can't wait to be a mother. Our baby is going to be so cute!"
"The cutest!" Malcolm agreed, finding an excited smile on his face as he tried to imagine what their child would look like. He cradled her close, rocking her in his arms, and pressed a peck to her temple. "You're going to be an amazing mother."
Leandra hummed back, "You're going to be the best dad in the world." With a naughty grin, her fingers snaked down to the buttons of his pants and popped one of them open with a suggestion.
Malcolm felt his cock twitch in response but he jumped back. "Wait, wait, wait. I need to do this right."
He opened a void portal and out of the staticky white hole pulled a golden ring, with a giant square pink diamond.
Leandra's eyes widened at the sight of it. "Is that a-?"
Before she could finish Malcolm took a deep steadying breath and dropped down to one knee.
"Leandra Amell, every moment with you has been the sweetest dream. I don't ever want to wake up."
Leandra gasped, tearing up again as she realized what was happening.
Malcolm's usual confidence faltered and he found himself tripping on his words. His ears wiggled nervously. "Will you consider… maybe being my wife? If you want to, that is…"
Leandra's answer was a squeal and she tackled him to the floor with a loud thud. "Yes! Yes! Of course, I do!" She continued to say yes as she peppered his face with kisses.
Malcolm's back was a little sore from how hard he hit the floor, but at least the white carpet was plush. He was brimming with ecstasy, unsure if he'd heard her right.
Leandra was so giddy she was giggling hysterically on top of him.
Malcolm found a sense of pride as her eyes glimmered at the ring, admiring the craftsmanship he'd put into making it. He wasn't sure what kind of design she would like, but he tried to make it as elegant as her other jewelry.
She squinted suspiciously as she studied the ring. "You didn't steal this, did you?"
Malcolm found a pleased chuckle in his throat. "I made this myself, with maybe a little help from Taylor."
Leandra's eyebrows shot up to the top of her head, clearly impressed. "You can make jewelry with magic?"
After all his training with Chef, he could make just about anything with magic. "As long as I have the base ingredients for the materials, I can reshape it how I like. I can't make things from nothing though." He pointed to the ring, bragging just a bit. "The band was molded from a sovereign since gold is harder to make, but the materials for diamonds are easy to find. Just takes a bit of time."
Leandra's mouth gaped in amazement.
He shrugged sheepishly, his pointed ears rotating shyly. "It took me a few tries to get right, though. I know it's not as grand as your other jewelry, but… I hope it's worthy enough for you to wear. If not, I'll take it back, and remake it however you'd like."
Leandra held his chin, and she must have been a little cross with him, given how her pink nails were digging into his skin. "Don't you dare! It's perfect!" Then with a goofy grin, she slipped it on her left hand.
It was a little too loose, but that was quickly fixed.
Malcolm pressed his palm over the gold and coaxed it to mold around her ring finger.
Leandra shook her head in disbelief. "You are impossible." She pulled him in for a kiss.
Malcolm had to resist whooping in excitement and waking the house. She'd said yes. He hadn't thought it was possible to be this happy.
This wasn't the way he'd been planning to ask this question. He had an elaborate date in mind, stealing her away to the Wounded Coast with a picnic of food he cooked himself, magically enhanced with Chef's help. He'd serenade her a bit, and maybe they'd take a naked dip in the ocean. It would be a little chilly this time of year, but they had each other to keep warm.
He'd make this shitty proposal up to her. Every day of his life.
He pulled her in for another kiss, smiling ecstatically against her lips. "I love you."
"I love you, too," Leandra echoed back. "So so much."
She hummed happily and grabbed him by the hand, pulling him on his feet. "Let me show you how much."
Malcolm could tell from the twinkle in her eye that she was in a minxy mood. She marched him to the bed and sat him on the edge.
He always felt a little nervous with anticipation when she got like this. He was never sure what she was going to do.
Leandra took a few steps back so he could appreciate the full view of her nightgown, how the see-through silks cascaded down her curves. She pulled the gown off in one smooth motion, so she was nude before him.
Malcolm's cock hardened in an instant. He began to tug at his clothes, eager to pull them off, but Leandra smacked his hands away.
"I didn't say you could undress, yet," she said saucily.
Malcolm raised a thick eyebrow. He wasn't sure what she was thinking, but he couldn't wait to find out.
She pressed her palms flat against his chest and slowly dragged them down his shirt, her touch leaving him tingling. He couldn't resist tracing his fingers down her sides, marveling at her smooth silky skin. Then, she reached under his shirt and peeled it off for him. His skin chilled in the night air, springing up in goosebumps.
Leandra settled herself between his legs and kissed him, raking her fingers through his curls. Her long luxurious locks tickled him, her breasts warm and soft against his chest.
His cock throbbed uncomfortably still trapped in his pants. He clutched Leandra's body, resisting the urge to toss her on the bed and fuck her silly. It had been so long since they'd had a private moment together. He was hungry and greedy, but he forced himself to hold back, to see what Leandra had planned first.
She plundered his mouth and he savored the taste of her, his loins on fire with need. His tongue watered at how sweet she was.
Eventually, he felt her fingers trace the outline of his groin and she unzipped his pants, and pried them open. She reached for his cock nestled inside, stroking him so gently in her hand.
His body seized at her touch, more potent than he remembered it. The feeling of her fingers on him, while her mouth worked his, made him shiver in delight.
Eventually, she broke away from his mouth and kissed down his neck with a butterfly touch. She traveled to his chest, then lower. She eased his pants down to his ankles where he helpfully kicked them off. She kissed the freckles on his stomach until her breath ghosted his cock.
Malcolm swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. She peeled back his foreskin, a bead of precum greeting her.
Her dark eyes glimmered with mischief as she peeked up at him, now kneeling between his legs. The sight of her naked between his legs made his cock jump, and his skin flush with need.
He realized what she was about to do. "Leandra, you don't have to-"
But before he could protest further, she licked his precum away with her silky tongue.
Malcolm hissed, his whole body going into shock with pleasure. He had imagined many times what her tongue would feel like, but his mind didn't do her justice. Still, he would have never dared ask her to fellate him, never thought she'd be the type of girl that would.
"Mmm," she purred, licking her lips. "So that's what you taste like."
She met his gaze ravenously as she gave him another long lick. Her tentative tongue was exploring him with clear fascination.
Malcolm breathed heavily, unable to look away at the sight of her pretty mouth on his cock. He relished the feeling of her warm wet tongue, so lovely he could burst all over her.
She teased the tip of his cock, causing it to twitch. Soft moans muffled in Malcolm's throat, even as he tried to choke them down. The little minx was enjoying having Malcolm under her spell. Then after a few languid licks, she wrapped her lips around his cockhead and sucked.
"Andraste's sweet dimpled asscheeks!"
Malcolm hadn't meant to say that.
Leandra vibrated him with a giggle, seeming encouraged by his cries. She swallowed him, taking him deeper.
Malcolm bit his tongue, quickly getting overstimulated. He grabbed Leandra's head to steady her voracious pace, but she was determined to take him deeper and deeper, until he hit the back of her throat.
Immediately she gagged and spat him out, her breath shuddering as she choked.
Malcolm couldn't fight the laugh that burst out of him. "You okay, babe?"
Leandra's tawny beige skin flushed red, clearly embarrassed. "Mara made it sound so easy."
"I'll have to thank Mara." Malcolm chuckled as he cupped her cheeks and dragged her to his lips.
He tasted himself on her tongue and it somehow aroused him more.
Leandra moaned into his mouth and climbed onto his lap to straddle him. Her hair brushed his chest leaving his skin tingling. With tongues still dancing, she grabbed his throbbing cock and pierced herself.
She was tighter than usual, without his tongue and fingers to work her open in advance, but she was still plenty wet, and she easily slid to his hilt.
"Fuck!" Malcolm groaned. The feeling of her warmth all around him felt so good, he could swear he was dreaming. He felt like he would wake up any moment. "I've missed you so much."
"Me, too," Leandra gasped as she wiggled her hips. "I want you to cum in me."
Malcolm shuddered and almost did right there. The way she was bucking her hips, creating such a sweet delicious friction, wasn't helping.
"I-Is that a good idea?" His heart was pounding so loud he could barely hear his own thoughts.
Leandra giggled. "I'm already pregnant. What's the worst that can happen?"
"Oh, right…" Malcolm had almost forgotten.
Still, if that meant he could fuck Leandra raw, he wasn't complaining. He was so much more sensitive without a condom.
She rolled her hips into him, the feeling of her body molded to his melting his spine. She rocked vigorously, shocking him with each thrust. She kissed him with a moan, her tongue mimicking the movement of her hips.
Malcolm's hands slid to her thighs, coaxing her to a slower pace. He was already on the edge and he wanted to keep himself there as long as possible. He wasn't ready for this to be over just yet.
The pleasure was maddening, drugging him. The smell of her sweat, her perfume, her slick, lulled him and soothed him, until he could forget where he was, who he was. He never wanted to come down from this high.
He wasn't sure how long he spent savoring her body, but she stopped her steady rock when something wet hit her shoulder.
He was going to ask her what was wrong when he realized there were tears streaming down his face.
Why the hell was he crying?
Leandra cradled his head and wiped his tears with the back of her hand. "Malcolm, what's wrong?"
"I just…"
He closed his eyes as he tried to verbalize the swirl of thoughts in his head. He could barely think clearly. He felt himself soften, as mortification flipped in his stomach.
"I didn't think you'd come back to me," he admitted with a grit of his teeth. "I don't deserve you."
Leandra wrapped him in her arms and pressed herself against him. "Don't say that. You're the only one for me. I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else."
Then she kissed him, tasting sweeter than ever. He knew he had found his home.
Was this real? Was Leandra his? Truly his?
"Relax," she insisted with a hum.
She placed her hands to his chest and pressed his back to the mattress. She looked so lovely in the moonlight. Her skin was luminous, almost glowing. Her shiny dark locks cascaded down her shoulders like a curtain hiding her full breasts. But still, he could see her nipples peeking through the strands.
She steadied herself, one hand on his leg, her engagement ring gleaming, and another hand on his chest. She bucked her hips, rocking rhythmically.
Malcolm had gone a little soft while crying, but his cock quickly woke up at this new friction.
A delicious moan sounded in Leandra's throat. Malcolm stared at her in awe, marveling at her perfect face, those doe eyes staring hungrily at him, those delicious plump lips panting his name. His eyes fell to her belly, thinking how it would soon swell with his child.
He was going to be a father. Leandra was going to be his wife. He was terrified, and overwhelmed, but another emotion bubbled up inside him more fierce than the rest.
Joy.
Malcolm found himself grinning like an idiot as he blinked away the rest of his tears. His heart was soaring, grateful to be alive, and he thanked the Maker for this mercy.
His fingers dug into Leandra's thighs and he said, "Come to Papa."
Leandra seemed relieved to see him in a better mood. She leaned forward, her breasts swaying as she rocked. She giggled, indulging in his little game. "Let Mama make you feel better."
Malcolm felt his cock jump. "Yes, ma'am."
She grabbed his chin and pulled him in for another kiss as she continued to ride him.
Malcolm placed his sweaty hand on Leandra's stomach, palming it and feeling a distinct sense of pride. Like he had succeeded in staking his claim.
"I'm going to fill you with so many babies."
Leandra laughed. "While I'm glad you're excited about being a dad, we're only having two kids at the most."
"Three," Malcolm argued with a childish pout.
Leandra rolled her eyes in annoyance, though there was still a smile fighting on her lips. "You'll have to persuade me."
Malcolm grabbed Leandra and she yelped when he flipped her on her back. With a devilish grin, he said, "Then maybe I can convince you to have four."
"Malcolm-"
But he silenced her with a kiss. He thrusted his tongue in her mouth, as he sunk into her cunt.
Malcolm pounded her vigorously, penetrating deeper and deeper. He relished the way Leandra dragged her nails over his scarred back, leaving scratches. He wasn't paying attention to the way the headboard banged into the wall.
He knew he was hitting her just right, because Leandra bit into his shoulder to muffle her screams. He pressed his thumb to her clit, rubbing her with a lick of magic to make her more sensitive. The result was immediate. She slickened up with a pealing squeal, her cunt giving up all resistance, so he slid in and out of her, gliding effortlessly.
He continued to drill into her, her delicious cunt squeezing him as his pleasure quickly spiked to an edge. Soon an electric current filled his spine, sparking his hands and feet, shocking both Leandra and him. Pleasure rolled through his whole body invading his veins. With a groan, he spilled himself inside her. The ecstasy was mind-numbing, flooding him from head to toe.
He collapsed on top of Leandra, his chest heaving, his skin sticky with sweat. He was dizzy and disoriented. He lazily rolled off her, pulling her onto his chest, still connected to her.
Malcolm wanted to live in this moment forever, but soon reality caught up to him.
"We're going to need to flee Kirkwall soon." He felt Leandra stiffen in his arms but he continued. "Our baby has a good chance of being a mage. Trust me when I say they can't grow up in the Circle."
"You're right." Leandra's voice was glum. She sounded defeated and scared, and he could feel her tremble.
Malcolm was relieved she didn't argue. He pulled her tighter, a growing knot of anxiety starting to eat at him, as he floated down from his heaven. "I'll take care of everything. We'll leave as soon as possible."
Leandra didn't say anything. She seemed to be depressed now, her body stiff in his arms.
He nuzzled her ear and took a whiff of her hair, her scent soothing his pounding heart. He tried to think of something that would take her mind off what they just talked about. "What should we name our baby?"
Leandra listened to his heartbeat, her finger tracing his hard nipple leaving him tingly. She pursed her lips in thought. "My favorite great aunt was named Marian. I always liked that name."
Malcolm combed Leandra's silky hair with his fingers, the red favor tied on his wrist tangling with the strands. "Well, my best cousin was named Garrett. We can name him that if he's a boy." His hand wandered down to her ass, feeling hungry for her again. "You're going to be the sexiest pregnant woman ever."
Leandra snorted, clearly thinking he was joking. "Pregnant women aren't sexy."
He was relieved to see that smile back.
"I beg to differ." Malcolm could feel his flaccid cock already hardening again at the thought of what Leandra would look like a few months from now. He was positively giddy. "I can't believe I got you pregnant."
Leandra giggled and she slapped him playfully. "That's what happens when you have sex, genius."
Malcolm grinned and slid out of her, his body jolting. "Mmm…" he crooned, marveling at the sight of her naked body, her dark hair splayed out wildly. "My sexy pregnant wife…" He crawled down to her crotch where her scrumptious pussy was dripping with his fertile seed.
He gave her a long lick. His cock twitched as she mewled his name. He never thought he'd like the taste of his own seed, but mixed with her slick, he found it decadent.
But before he could enjoy his feast, the shrill voice of Leandra's mother screeched at the door.
"Who's in there!?"