Heaven || Larry Stylinson

Chapter Eleven : Recollection

"I was tired," he laughed it off, concealing the real reason behind him not returning to Mischelin, "and anyway, Your Highness, all this," he pointed to the sacks of gold and immeasurable artefacts around him, "is for you."

"And that crown on your head?" He questioned, eyeing the eloquently chiselled stone which held itself through strong black threads which Harry had crudely tied himself.

"I got that made when I came to Demis for myself." He answered honestly and to his horror, the man rose his hand and pulled the crown off his head, humiliating him before more than a feasible crowd.

"You aren't a King, Harry, nor are you a Prince to be worthy enough to wear this," he declared, examining the crown closely, ignoring the ardent rage-filled in his eyes, "but you don't need to get upset, I have a better gift for you."

With that, he meandered to the place where Harry's gaze had been formerly stationed. A figure was covered in a sheer white sheet of what exactly, he wasn't really aware of.

"This man," he introduced, releasing the chains which bound him, "is my slave and my trusted assassin," to this the said slave clicked his tongue in distaste causing the King to slap him into obedience and added with a smile, "a little disobedient but his skills are exceptional, he single-handedly killed the Emperor of Tryeen. Don't be deceived by his stature, his stealth and cunning rivals that of animals and his swordsmanship is otherworldly."

"I may go as far as to say, he may defeat you in a one on one swordplay and fencing." He supplied which rose Harry's eyebrows in interest because regardless of how absolutely a fool his uncle was, he knew how to recognise talent when it was seen.

Harry casually strolled over to where the supposed 'slave' stood with guards and two ministers flocking him. His peer slackened and asked the people to move away while he drew nearer to the man.

Something about the covered man was calling for him. He didn't know if it was his inner Alpha or his infallible instincts guiding him to the man, almost seeming like this meeting had been planned decades ago and fate only brought it down now. The breeze tugging him in his direction and his intuition assuring the Alpha that he was going to help him execute not only his uncle but an infinite number of rivals in the future.

Inhaling the fresh vanilla smell which was ghosting around the man intoxicated with something, even more, sweeter which he couldn't place his finger at. A smell so overwhelming that it made him feel ecstasy at the moment.

"Name?" He stringed his words carefully and in a voice low enough for it to resist reaching anybody's ears.

"Mine or my perfume's?" He inquired with an edge to his voice.

"Perfume." He smirked at the man's observation and begun to circle him like a vulture around its prey.

"Heaven's breath." He responded with a smirk Harry could hear, "Vanilla extract and fragrance of the fire flower, specifically made in Khara."

"Hmm, my uncle speaks quite highly of you." Harry hummed. "Could you die for me?"

"No." The reply was prompt.

"Could you live for me?"

The covered man shook his head once again in negation to the question asked.

"Can you kill for me?"

His head lifted, as though the veil between them wasn't present and bore his eyes towards the Alpha and surprisingly the emerald eyed man felt his gaze through the sheets. "Now that's the question isn't it?"