Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“Creepy.” Emma hands Kim a wet cloth, and Kim mops the spilled drink off her face, cleavage and hands..
“Eh, exhibitionism and voyeurism are valid kinks,” Kim says. “Not my preference, but if they enjoy it…”
Emma shoots me a look. She and I had a long conversation about BDSM and our submissive sides. She used to go to clubs to get her fix. We both have a working theory that the Omega serum works in tandem with our masochistic streaks and love of power play, somehow enhancing them.
I suspect Kim has her own ideas about that, but right now she’s busy setting up an orb in front of me and fiddling with it.
It takes less time than I thought it would to rig one of the orbs to give me a live visual of Krav. Kim assures me it’s a one-way view—I can see him, but he can’t see me. The sphere pulses with light and I peer into its milky depths, my two new friends behind me.
I’m holding my breath as if waiting for a blow. I expect to see Krav in his castle chambers, lounging by the fire with his wings akimbo and a bored expression on his face. A still life painting titled: Demon King Enjoys His Solitude.
The image comes into focus… and there he is. My heart skips at the sight of him. He is on a throne, but it doesn’t look like he’s in his castle. His spine is straight, his posture regal. Glittering gold and silver strands are draped over his horns.
He’s wearing a gold and red robe trimmed with black fur. Someone is bowing to him.
“Where is he?” I whisper. Now that I’m doing it, I feel kinda guilty about spying on him but I can’t tear my eyes away.
The camera pans out to reveal the whole scene. Krav sits on a throne in the middle of a village square with people thronging around him. A familiar crimson figure with bright orange hair stands beside the throne, wringing his hands. It’s Alkarvi, the village elder who took one look at me and decided I’d make a good sacrificial virgin.
“The heck is going on over—” Kim begins but I hold up a hand to stop her.
“Is there sound?” I ask.
Reaching over my shoulder, Kim does something to the orb. “There should be… there we go.”
“Hear, ye, hear ye! His Evilness is ready for another supplicant!” Alkarvi announces.
Krav beckons him with a claw, and the two put their heads together to confer. I strain but can’t hear what they’re saying. After a moment, Alkarvi straightens up and clears his throat.
“Excuse me. The king formerly known as His Evilness is ready for another supplicant. You may call him Satan!”
Krav lets out a huge sigh and beckons Alkarvi to him again. There’s another whispered conference, followed by a new announcement.
“Not Satan! Santa!”
Krav rolls his eyes but he looks more bemused than anything else.
Alkarvi gestures to a short, pink-skinned Ulfarri, beckoning him forward. “Come, child! Make your request to Santa.”
“I wish for my fangs to finally come in,” the little one squeaks. “And… I want a tyrlee!”
Krav bows his head so he’s at eye-level with the kid. The gold and silver strands adorning his horns glint in the suns’ light as he moves.
I’m holding my breath, half-expecting the Demon King to bellow in the little one’s face. But Krav’s voice is calm—jovial, even. “Have you been behaving yourself? Doing what your mother and father tell you?”
The kid drags his toes across the ground. “Mostly, Your Evi—Santa.”
“Mostly is a good start,” Krav says. “Mind that you continue to be good for your parents. As for your wishes… your fangs will descend in time and grow bigger at the same rate as the rest of you.” He reaches beside his throne before handing the child a cup and a small plate piled high with what look like leeberry tarts. “You will drink this white juice and eat these koo-keys to get big and strong.” The kid accepts the gifts carefully, grinning over his shoulder at two taller Ulfarri with similar markings who are probably his parents.
Sitting up tall, Krav roars, “Bring forth the tyrlee!”
“I don’t understand…” I blink several times and even give my wrist a pinch, but the strange scene in the orb remains the same. “Krav was adamant that he never visited the villages, let alone handed out gifts to people.”
“It looks like some kind of local ritual,” Emma says. “See there? They’re putting up decorations.”
I lean closer. The Pyredii who aren’t queueing to see Krav are bustling about, nailing bunches of silver and gold threads to their doorjambs. One is swaying on a rickety ladder, fastening a bright red bunch of leaves to the frame of his hut.
“Ahhh. I think I know what’s happening,” Kim says. “Earlier today, Aurus was asking me a bunch of stuff about Hoo-man holidays, particularly Christmas. I asked why he wanted to know, and he told me it was official business. I bet Krav called him.”