Awen sat at her throne, back ram rod straight. It was made of red cherry wood with symbols carved in. She would have preferred something made of metal, but she didn’t want to change it. The fae had an affinity for natural materials, and it made them stronger. This had a similar effect for halflings, but not as much. She kept it for this reason. The red carpet stretched from her feet to the tall double doors. She could feel the changes in the energy around her. She closed her eyes and reached out with her mind. She saw the dead trees rush past and she floated above them. She reached a meadow that should be dead.
Clenching her hands into fists, she saw Gareth in an embrace with a red haired twit. This must the long lost princess, and her most trusted advisor. Together. She felt enraged and screamed, shattering a window. Her body was tense with anger and she quivered. She kept her black eyes closed and watched them until they disappeared. She knew there was a unit somewhere in that area of dissidents, but she could never find them.
Awen stood, her black gown skin tight and a black leather corset holding up her breasts, the skirt spilling down to swirl out at her ankles. Her sleeves widened as they reached her wrists. The silk whispered against her hot and dark brown skin, the only comfort she had. She wasn’t sure what to do, and felt a bit bereft at the betrayal. Her black hair fell in a straight line down her back, down to her ass. She was still standing when the doors opened, and one of her minions fell to his knees at the edge of the red carpet.
“M’lady,” he rasped, his black hair falling into his eyes as he bowed his head to her.
“Get up,” her ice cold voice commanded. “Do you have news?” She would already know anything he would tell her, but no one needed to know about her powers.
He stood and approached her until he was a few feet away. She stood above him on the steps. It was good to keep everyone below you, and she reveled in the feeling of satisfaction it gave her. “M’lady, we found the rebel princess, but were unable to get her. She killed many of my men, and ran off. And…” his voice trailed away.
Awen knew, but said, “Yes?” in a sugary sweet voice.
He gulped. “Gareth was with her. We thought he had been bringing her to you. But he… he helped her. It appears as though she has his power of the universe,” he trembled before her.
She knew it wasn’t his fault, but she wanted to punish him anyway. It would give her great satisfaction to spill his blood. “Come with me,” she purred. Her gut clenched with anticipation. She walked in front of him. She walked out of the throne room, and down the stone stairs. Since she was a creature of the dark, she didn’t need light. Her eyes adjusted to the dark, and she didn’t bother lighting a torch. Walking down the hallway, her spiked heels clicked on the stone. She was already tall, but enjoyed towering over everyone she could. She walked into her own private torture room. Devices and knives lined the walls, sharp and shining. A table sat in the middle of the room.
The halfling didn’t say anything, but she could taste his fear in the air. She commanded him to strip, and he did as he was told. She nodded to the stainless steel table and he climbed on as she chose her weapons. A small scalpel, a small hammer, and a longer knife. She put them on the tool tray. Turning around, she saw the fear in his eyes. She ran a soft hand across his cheek. “Shhh. It won’t hurt. Too much.” She strapped him to the table, binding his arms and legs. “Or, maybe it will,” she whispered in his ear, her long tongue reaching out to lick his ear. She bit down on his ear lobe hard, causing him to cry out. She laughed, running her sharp fingernail down his arm. She nearly broke skin, but instead caused an angry welt.
Awen lifted her skirt a little and climbed onto the table, straddling the creature. He started whimpering. She liked that. She stole his power by blocking his mind. She bit his shoulder, drawing blood. She licked at the blood, tasting it’s tang. She enjoyed the taste in small amounts, and only once in a while. She rolled her eyes to the back of her head, leaning back, taking in the power of the stars. Gareth wasn’t the only one with secrets. There was a reason she had been able to take the throne. She took just enough to make the halfling erect beneath her, keeping the rest of the power for herself. She rubbed herself against him, grabbing the scalpel. She cut into his flesh at his stomach and he screamed as she moved on top of him. Her body was on fire with the thrill, and she wanted nothing more than to possess him. She smeared his blood with her fingers, running them along his mouth, forcing them inside. He gagged on his own blood and she moaned as she sucked the blood off her fingers. She was shuddering already, and forced herself to calm down a little.
Tears started running down from his eyes, probably from the pain. She grasped his hair as she rode him with his hard cock inside her. She forced herself to take in his entire length, stretching her. He was well endowed, and she was pleased the bearer of bad news was as big as he was, because she reveled in the pain. She sliced some more of his skin, his screams reverberating inside her skull and she gasped at how happy it made her feel. She took his pain into herself, leaning down to bite him, her sharp teeth drawing more blood. She licked his blood, moaning.
Awen took the bigger knife, and stabbed him near his throat, not quite wanting to kill him yet. She moved faster on him, her breath short. She cried out, closing her eyes. She felt on his chest, his heart beating rapidly. She knew what she had to do. She cut along his sternum. She had to move quickly as she cut deep, blood pouring out. His screams were more frantic now. She reached in under his rib cage and grasped his beating heart in her hand. She tore it out as she thrust herself upon him. She ate his heart, feeling the last beats in her mouth. With the last bite, the orgasm ripped through her, nearly tearing her to pieces. The blood made it impossible to clutch onto him, and her muscles tightened as she moaned and screamed. She was covered in hot, sticky blood and Awen shivered. She forced the pieces of herself back together, and looked down at her masterpiece.
A gaping hole was what was left of his chest, blood thick. It ran down the table and dripped on the floor. She gingerly lifted herself from him, aftershocks left over made her shudder. She smelled the scent of blood and death, and she felt more powerful for it. She left the room, blood dripping down her chin and falling into the valley in between her breasts. She was full and satisfied, and had a plan. She knew how she would deal with Gareth, and his precious rebel princess. She just needed to draw them out. She needed to get the princess’s sister.
She laughed, shooting the sound down the hallway in echoes. A bat flew and perched on her shoulder. She stroked its tiny head, her little faithful pet. She cooed to him, singing him a song. She walked up the stairs and once again sat in her throne. She liked ruling in blood. It reminded the little ants that they needed to fear her. That they should fear her. If they didn’t, she would tear their pretty little limbs right off, and eat their hearts, and they needed to be reminded. She wanted them quivering in their little boots. She whispered in her pet’s ear, and drew down some magic.
She turned him into a beautiful bird, full of bright shades of blue. Feathers sprang from his tail in large tufts, and his wings dazzled. Yes, the little twit wouldn’t be able to resist the damn thing. After all, her favorite color was blue. Awen laughed to herself again, sending her pet to fly out the broken window. She sent for a few guards to lay in wait for the batty bird to draw out the enemy. She sat tall on her throne, blood drying on her skin, her hands clasping the arms of the giant chair. She smiled, her sharp teeth showing. They would all get what they deserve, and Gareth and that little bitch would get the worst of them all.