Desires of a Demon

Crowns

Frances glanced back at him, but Emmanuel had already turned away– his attention directed back on to the road.

"You don't have to pretend with me," Frances told him, "Whatever is in your heart or on your mind.. you can share."

Emmanuel stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he zeroed in on something ahead of them.

"I'll be dead anyway... who am I going to tell?"

"Fuck, do you ever stop talking?"

"I have a lot on my mind! I am sorry—my talking does get me into trouble, but I will try to be better. I talk a lot with I'm anxious or excited—sometimes I even talk to myself or to random strangers. It's just who I am. If,-"

"Zip it right now. Something's in the road.. "

Frances peered ahead of them and sure enough it looked to be a bunch of satyrs. She's encountered plenty of them in her life, but it was always a hit or miss on how they'd treat you.

"Well, shit.." Emmanuel cursed as they crept slowly towards the group, "Let me do the talking this time—please?"

Frances nodded. This time she was hoping her tongue wouldn't slip.

"Aren't you a little far away from home, Emmanuel?"

Emmanuel smiled, "Aren't you an ugly fucker, Royse?"

The satyr who'd spoken straightened up and shook his head.

"Just because your daddy's who he is doesn't mean I won't take you out."

Frances opened her mouth, but Emmanuel put a hand on her arm.

"Who's this pretty thing?" Royse asked, "Certainly not someone from your village..."

Emmanuel gnashed his teeth together as Royse slid his hand up to meet Frances's arm.

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Frances Banks."

"Frances Banks...I like it—it's definitely you," Royse smiled, "What the hell are you doing with this asshole?"

Frances looked at Emmanuel and then back to Royse.

"I'm,-"

"She's mine," Emmanuel snarled, "Property of my father."

Royse took a step back and licked his lips.

"Before or after you screw her?"

Frances shuddered as Emmanuel squeezed her arm, reassuringly.

"She's not for that.."

Royse frowned, "She's too pretty to kill and you know it."

"We've killed pretty girls, Royse—don't pretend we haven't."

"Yeah? Well, why ain't she back at the village with you until the sacrifice?"

Emmanuel knew better than to give him what he wanted so he lied.

"I gotta break the rules every now and again, right?"

Royse smiled and let out a hearty laugh.

"I knew it! Taking her for a little spin before then, eh? Your gods won't notice the difference?"

Emmnanuel chuckled, "I might kill her before then."

Frances gulped, her eyes begging him to move passed the satyrs.

"We've gotta go. I wanna make my destination before the next fucking century," Emmanuel said, "Don't make me send Thomas out here."

Even the satyrs knew not to mess with Thomas—at least Emmanuel was merciful.

"Have a fun time, kids!" Royse called as his group dashed into the woods, "Don't wear her out too much."

Frances hadn't said anything since before the satyrs and considering she never really stopped talking—even in her sleep she'd whisper words he couldn't understand.

"Are you alright?"

Frances nodded, but she didn't look at him. She was too tired.

"I won't let anyone hurt you, Frances, I told you that."

Frances nodded again.

"I trust you."

Emmanuel shook his head. He'd no clue why she'd trust him—he was going to hand her over to his father in two weeks—to a man he'd seen do awful things to innocent people—innocent women...

"You shouldn't, but while we're together, you can."

Frances smiled when they came across Potter's Meadow.

"You detoured!"

"You asked me to.."

Frances didn't wait long before hopping off the wagon and running through the field of flowers like a blissful child. Emmanuel watched her for the longest time as she picked the flowers, lifting her skirts up a bit when she got into the tall grass. His heated brain zeroed in on her legs and he remembered them being wrapped around his body.

He could take her..gods he could take her right in that field and then let her go home..

"Hey! I made you something.." Frances said as Emmanuel made his way towards her, "It's a flower crown."

Emmanuel tried to shoo her away, but Frances insisted he place the silly colorful flower crown on his head.

"I look like a fool."

"You look like a prince," Frances said, placing one on her head, "My mother used to make these flower crowns for me all of the time."

Emmanuel leaned in and gently removed a strand of hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear.

"Did your mother love you?"

"Yes," Frances smiled, "My mother loved me very much and your mother loved you."

Emmanuel frowned, "You don't know that."

"Oh, but I do!" Frances said, "You took away my powers, but only to defend myself. I saw her in my dream last night. She held you for a long time after you were born, cradling you to her bosom."

Emmanuel didn't know that.

"I thought she died while giving birth to me..." Emmanuel snarled, grabbing Frances by the arms and pulling her into him, "You're a fucking lying tease!"

Frances shook her head and yelped at the pressure he was putting on her skin.

"I promise! She was already dying when you were being born, but she held you—she named you and she loved you."

Emmanuel sighed, his eyes narrowing as he still held her into his body.

"I should ruin everything and take you right here.." he whispered as his face inched towards hers, "I want you so badly that I can taste it."

"I know...I feel you.." Frances giggled as Emmanuel's cock pressed hard against her middle, "Maybe you'll change your mind about it."

Emmanuel shook his head, "I can't and I won't. I have to deliver you in one piece and untainted. Now, let's get back on the road before I leave you here for the satyrs."

Frances smiled as she strolled behind him.

He'd forgotten all about the flower crown still resting atop his head.