Chapter 15

15

H er dreams were strange. All she saw were the people whose futures she told and all the other paths they could have taken. The oracle didn't let her rest, not at times like these.

What if she'd walked down the wrong path and told them the wrong thing? Most were wandering about in this life with no guidance, that was true, but she was here to guide them. She was the only person who could help them. Her words and her power gave them the ability to do the right thing. That was what her purpose was in this life.

And yet, what if she had made a mistake?

The oracle was certain that they hadn't. But the magic was so much more certain of everything than Lilith was.

So when she woke, covered in sweat and uncertain of where she had ended up, she could already feel the power boiling inside her. The oracle wanted to do more. There was no limitation on her power, and the oracle could easily burn her from the inside out. It was how they were meant to be.

But Lilith didn't want to die. The herb she drank was the one thing that dulled her power, but it also dulled her mind. She missed the blissful chill of drinking that strangely minty drink and allowing it to take her away from all of this. Because without it, she remembered too much.

She'd only been a child when she had first realized what lived inside her. She had been from a different kingdom, although that memory was still murky at best. Her mother had been the first one to realize that her child was different. Perhaps because Lilith had told her she would fall from a ladder and break her leg. Her mother had laughed it off until it had actually happened.

"What are you thinking of?" the voice came out of the shadows, coiling around her heart and squeezing with a strange comfort.

The demon king.

Of course he was here.

He never seemed to be far from her, no matter how much she wanted to recoil from him. Even on the tail of that thought was the whispered murmur of something else inside her. Something that enjoyed how he was always around her. How she felt so much safer beside him than she ever had with her previous master.

"The herb..."

He tsked in the darkness. "I'm not giving it to you. Your master is on his way to find it for us, and then I will provide it to your needy little lips."

"I'm not talking about taking it," she snapped, her eyes seeking him out in the darkness of her room. But she couldn't see him, and somehow, that made it easier to talk. "Without it, I remember... too much."

"What do you remember, oracle?"

Everything.

She opened her mouth, and the words fell from her tongue like a prophecy. "My mother was the first one to realize the power I had inside of me. Oracles are all called together, no matter how hard we try to hide from it. She had to give me up. The oracular order is known by very few to exist, but it is a powerful entity in every single kingdom. We are required to go to them for training and for... gifting to the men who will protect us."

There was a creak from the shadows, as though he was seated on a chair. He hadn't given her one of those, though.

"Your previous master seemed like he did not appreciate the gift he was given."

"He didn't," she whispered. "But when he held the key to the ending of all my torment, what was I supposed to do?"

She would have given the circus master anything he had wanted. She didn't care that she was a spectacle in a show. All she cared about was expelling the power inside her that wanted to destroy its physical form, and also getting free from the memories that hurt so much.

She squeezed her eyes shut, tears leaking out of them even as she fought to keep them inside.

"You're crying," he said, and she heard him shift again. This time, it was followed by the dipping of the bed at her side. "How strange to see an oracle cry."

She thought he meant it as an insult. A man like him only knew how to harm and maim. All the rumors about him were bloodthirsty and terrible. He was a man who killed for power. Why he hadn't killed her yet, she still didn't understand.

But then he surprised her, as he always seemed to do. He dragged his finger gently down her cheek, catching the tears from each side of her face. "I didn't know someone like you could cry."

"It's possible to feel even when you're an oracle," she whispered.

"What is making you feel, Lilith?"

Gods, she hated how interested he sounded. One part of her mind screamed that he would use this information against her. She couldn't and shouldn't trust the man before her. But some soft, weak part of her wanted someone to understand that she was hurting. She wanted someone else to share the burden of these memories.

"The moment the oracular order took me in was the moment I became less of a person and more of a tool." Her words spun through the air, just like they did when she told someone their future. "I knew there was something else inside me. I've felt her since I was very little. And it's not necessarily that we are different people, but I know she is not... the same. But when I walked through those doors, I became so much less than Lilith.

"They trained me. They taught me how to use this magic and how to survive it. But we all knew that our lives would be shorter than most because of this power. If anything happened to our handlers, we would die. If anything happened to us, the power would burn us from the inside out before it would let itself be captured." She snorted. "Not that it would matter if it was."

He stiffened at her words. She wondered what part of that caught his attention, but then she was so distracted by the weight of his body falling onto the bed beside her. "Move, little one."

She didn't know what to do. He wasn't supposed to be right next to her, and he certainly wasn't supposed to lie beside her. No one had ever done that. No one even touched her, let alone had moments where she could feel the heat of their body pressed so close to her own.

They were just lying on their backs. Two people beside each other, with his arm touching hers from shoulder to elbow. It was an innocent act and yet... she couldn't breathe.

She wanted to touch him. Or maybe she wanted him to touch her. Just to know what it would feel like. Were his fingers calloused? She thought maybe they were. She could already feel them trailing over her skin, catching against the softness of hers. Or maybe his fingers would be scarred from all the magic he had cast. She would feel every single bump and ripple of the danger he had put himself in time and time again.

Danger like he'd put himself in to keep her safe.

The memories cascaded through her mind from what he had done while she was allowing the oracle to channel through her body. Gasping, she rolled onto her side so she could just make out the shape of him in the darkness. "You protected me."

"I've been doing that since we first met."

"No, you haven't," she replied. "You've been trying to take me and then use me for your own advantage. But you protected me."

She wanted to believe this meant he was better than she thought. That he was a good person. Maybe because if he was good at his core, then she didn't have to be so afraid of him. Or this place.

Maybe she'd finally landed in a soft place where someone else would care for her as she'd always wanted them to do.

He rolled onto his side, facing her. She could feel his warm breath fanning over her lips and it took everything in her to not close the distance. Just to know what a god king tasted like.

His big hand rose and carded through her hair. His thick fingers soothed the ache in her skull as he gently brushed through the strands and started working on the tangles. "I took you. And I'd take you again. That man was using you for his own benefit, when you are so much more than just a creature to be owned by a beast like him."

"He treated me well."

Those fingers tightened in her hair. She froze at the feeling, knowing that if he tilted his wrist at all, she would be forced to follow his movements.

"He treated you like chattel," he snarled. "He cared little if you were alive or dead, as long as he got money from you. He never wanted to be your handler, nor did he treat you like the gem you are. You are better off here, oracle. Remember that."

A little whimper escaped from her lips. "You're hurting me."

"I'm not hurting you, Lilith. If I wanted to hurt you, I would." Again, a little tug on her hair, but maybe it wasn't quite as painful as she'd thought. It was almost... intriguing. Too much, too overwhelming, and yet she wanted more.

A creature had woken in her chest, one that she didn't recognize. It wasn't the oracle. That version of herself rarely had any reason to be interested in another living being unless she wanted to tell their future.

So she could only imagine this sudden need and desire and want came from deep inside... her. Lilith. She was the one that wanted to know how much more he would or could touch her. She was the one who wanted to beg him to tug a little harder. To push her to the very limits of what she could take because she didn't know what those limits were.

No one had ever tried to face them with her. Nor had anyone given her the chance to be something other than just an oracle.

His grip shifted, gentling only slightly as his words turned mocking. "Oh, little one. I can hear your breathing change. What is going on inside that head of yours?"

She didn't know how to respond. Did she tell him that her entire body felt like it was waking up underneath his touch? That she wanted him to pull until it was the point of pain?

Or did she just say nothing and see what he would do?

He leaned closer, and this time she could feel the warmth of his lips almost against her own. A kiss. She'd seen people doing this before and she'd wanted it so badly. She hated how it made her body feel to look at other people indulging themselves in touches because she couldn't. She'd always seen into people's futures before she had ever felt their mouths against hers.

"Is your breath catching because you're afraid?" he murmured. "Or is it for another reason, little one?"

Another reason. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to devour her, so she knew what it was like to be truly and utterly consumed.

"Use your words, Lilith."

"I don't know what I want."

She wanted to forget. She wanted to not exist for a few moments, just like the haven the herb usually gave her. She wanted to escape into the recesses of her own body where there was only pain or pleasure.

His lips curved into a wicked grin against her own, and for a moment, she thought she was going to faint. "Try again. Or do you want me to tell you what you want?"

No. No man should ever tell her what she wanted, and yet she found herself giving the smallest nod against his lips.

A deep groan vibrated through his chest and straight into her core. He lifted his hand, hovering it over her throat before just barely moving down her chest. She couldn't feel him, but her mind knew where his hand was. Her breasts burned as if he was already touching them.

"You want to me to touch you here," he whispered, his voice raspy and rough. "You want my lips right here, don't you? Sucking and tugging on you until you're writhing beneath me."

Did she?

Maybe.

Yes.

Then his hand moved lower, and she swore she could feel herself throb between her legs. "Then you want me here. I think you're a little too innocent to realize what I mean when I say that. So let me tell you, little one. My hands aren't enough for you, not entirely. So I'll lick you here too. Plunge my tongue inside you until you're panting, then use my thick fingers that are so much larger than yours. I'll lick that sweet little clit of yours, work you with my fingers until you come all over me."

She didn't... He could do that? People did that?

He sighed, his breath too much against her sensitive skin. "But you're not ready for that, are you? Not all of that. Not yet."

What did he mean? Of course she was ready for that. Already she was panting and embarrassingly slick. Her thighs slid against each other as she moved and his words played on an echo inside her head.

She wanted him. That. Whatever he said. That was what she wanted.

Instead, he loomed over her and that damned hand never once touched her skin. He leaned down and growled, the sound echoing until he was right there again. His lips almost pressed against hers.

"Soon, you'll be ready for that. But first, you have to know you want it."

Damning words slipped off her tongue. "I do."

"You don't know that yet." Then both of his hands scooped underneath her head, forcing her to remain still as he kissed her. Consumed her.

Devoured her.

His lips and teeth and tongue played with her almost angrily, as though she'd done something wrong. He kissed like his body was a weapon and she was the target. She couldn't turn away from him. She couldn't even move to encourage this violence because he had her pinned to the bed. All she could do was lie there and let him pour all of his passion into her body until she was brimming with it.

When he pulled away, there was suddenly the softest light in the room. Just enough silver light for her to see it glinting from the saliva that connected their mouths before it snapped.

"Soon," he repeated, his voice low and gruff as he stood from her bed.

And then he disappeared. Leaving her lying there, panting, and unsure if she wanted him to have stopped.