Strong hands pressed blonde's face deeper into the feathered pillow. Her soft moans echoed around the room as Annabelle's length filled her up repeatedly. She'd almost grown use to the sensation, pain subsiding after the first few times they'd had sexual relations.
Her hair was slick, tiny beads of sweat covered her skin. She felt the hybrid impossibly deeper in that position, and it never took long for her pleasure to build. Emily's walls clenched, gripping the source of her bliss as an orgasm quaked her. The older woman grunted behind her; hands wound tightly around her waist as she came in Emily for the second time that morning.
The bed sunk as Annabelle shifted, laying on her back beside Emily. Her eyes were like a red beacon, only dimming as her excitement wore off. The two had grown into something of a routine the past few weeks. Emily did very little to annoy the older woman, and Annabelle, being extremely busy with the unnatural developments in their Capital to think of much else.
She gave Emily permission have one hour of reading in the study, escorted by a guard of her own choosing. Annabelle had no idea what the young woman read and didn't seem to care too much about it either. Emily could tell by the tension in the castle that something strange was happening. Had she not witnessed the guards disappearing for herself, she probably wouldn't have noticed the change in everyone's aura.
The Vampires that guarded the castle's senses were all heighted, all appearing stone faced and on edge. In all their intimate moments, Annabelle never spent the entire night with her. The hybrid would either leave the bed in the dark of the morning, or that same night. That all changed last night. Last night, the queen stayed, snoring gently with an arm loosely draped over the curve of Emily's waist.
The blonde's cheeks lit up at the thought of the previous night, scolding herself for the fluttering in her chest. She ran a hand through her loose curls before boosting herself out of bed. She intended on going to the study a bit earlier today. The increased freedom she'd been allotted in the castle was invigorating. She wandered around almost completely undisturbed—minus the guard that trailed her in the distance.
After dressing herself, she gave a glance over her shoulder to the woman still asleep in the large bed. Annabelle's long, dark hair had been freed from the hair tie, resting lightly atop her
exposed breasts and shoulders. She was...stunning. Emily shook the thoughts quickly before leaving the room. Even if she was stunning, she was even more dangerous.
Her body collided with someone's hard back in the hallway with a thud. "What the hell are you doing out here?" she whisper-shouted at John. The man nervously massaged the back of his neck. "What do you mean? I was just walking by."
Emily eyed him, for some reason not believing there was a lick of truth in the statement. "Uh huh...We should move before the sleeping dragon wakes."
The two made their way to the kitchen. Margret stood near island, busying herself with ordering the cooks around to ensure that breakfast was done to perfection. She glanced up, offering Emily a small smile.
"How are you doing today?" Emily shrugged, "I'm okay." The older woman nodded, putting a kettle on the fire. "Would you like some more of that herbal tea?"
The blonde quickly agreed. The maid introduced her to a sweet, almost fruity tea a few days prior. It had a calm and soothing effect on her body—ridding her from the tension and anxiety she usually felt in a castle full of beasts. She'd noticed as well that if she drank it after intercourse, it would almost remove any aches that lingered.
She sat at the small table, fingers twiddling the handle of the teacup Margret placed in front of her. The blonde had become familiar with most of the workers in the castle. At first, she could see the surprise on everyone's face after the a full week had gone by and she was still in the castle, still in her own room opposite the Queen's. Margret told her that in her twenty years in the castle, the only woman Annabelle kept around that long was her wife—and Victoria had been wed to the woman for decades so it didn't really count.
Emily happily began feeding herself the plate of eggs and toast the maid laid out.
"Good morning." A voice that hadn't been heard in quite some time was heard.
Victoria strolled into the kitchen; her combat boots could be heard against the tiles with every step. Paired with an all-leather outfit, the woman looked as though she'd been prepared to fight.
"I wish I could say that I didn't expect to find you here, but I did." Her eyes set on the blonde whose cheeks were filled with food.
Emily gulped, "I—"
"No explanation needed...I know exactly how convincing Annabelle could be."
She had questions that Victoria could possibly answer. Like, whether or not she knew what Annabelle had done to her father, or where her younger brother might be. But, now wasn't the time, and the kitchen definitely wasn't the place. She would corner the wolf on her own at some point, hopefully getting the answers she needed.
Victoria leaned towards her, slender fingers dragging over the marks on the skin of her neck.
"I see you've been busy."
A blush found its way to the girl's cheek, embarrassment and...guilt? Guilt that the woman knew she'd been doing the nasty with her wife.
"And what is it to you?" Annabelle spoke from the doorway.
"It means absolutely nothing to me." The she-wolf's expression was unreadable. "You are a free woman, as per our arrangement."
"I'm just making sure you remembered." Annabelle's eyes held only a hint of fiery red, that quickly dissipated into its natural grey. "You know, I don't remember you being this jealous when we'd started." The queen said, her lips upturned in smirk.
"And I don't remember you being such a whore, but people do change."
The wolf walked past her in the doorway without another glance. The kitchen became dead quiet. Annabelle wasted no time following Victoria down the hallway, pulling her into a nearby opened door, slamming it shut behind them. Muffled, raised voices could barely be heard from the enclosed room, they seemed to have been arguing.
Emily's stomach suddenly felt upset. Could it be the guilt? Or maybe anxiety making its tiresome return? Whatever it was, the young blonde felt sick to her stomach. The sensation was followed by painful cramping. She clutched her mid-section, bending over slightly. It was as though a fire had been lit in her stomach, tears brimmed the corner of her eyes.
"Emily!" Margret flew around the table to her side, John right behind her.
The blonde could manage no words, just painful cries. That seemed to catch the attention of the creatures arguing in the room meters away from them, as Annabelle quickly appeared beside her with Victoria trailing behind.
"What has happened?" the queen demanded.
"I-I don't know! She was fine a minute ago!" the maid appeared frantic.
Emily's eyes drifted shut, the voices sounding like echoes in the distance. The last thing she felt was strong arms holding her as she collapsed.
The room was bright, 'welcome home' decorations strung up against the walls. A music box on the table belted old tunes. Emily glanced around the unfamiliar room. She was no longer at the castle; she had no idea where she was. There was a huge wooden rocking chair beside the fireplace, rocking slowly back and forth. It creaked and groaned, sending a shiver down Emily's spine.
She walked towards it, almost eager to see what lied in wait.
"I'm happy you could join me Emmy." Her brother's voice sounded out. He sat in the chair kicking his feet back and forth. His dirty blonde hair lay shaggy above his eyes. Her heart clenched at his use of her nickname. It had grown on her since he was much younger and could never pronounce her name right.
"Manny? What are you doing here? Where are we?"
"It's our new home." He flashed a toothless grin. "Do you like it?"
Something felt strange about him, Emily couldn't quite grasp it, but he was different.
"You can't come home yet Emmy. We're not ready for you. Once you do your part, the prophecy will be fulfilled and we can finally be together."
"We? Prophecy?" she asked, but her voice came out muffled. "Manny, wait!" she tried yelling as the perfect picture began to distort before fading to black.
"Emily?" warm hands shook her awake.
The blonde bolted up in bed panting. Her body was completely drenched in sweat. Her eyes felt heavy as she glanced up at the Queen who stared back with something resembling worry on her face.
She'd wondered if it had been a bad dream. Seeing her brother like that, the things he said. What did it all mean? She stared at Annabelle, wondering if she did indeed have something to do with the boy's disappearance. If she did, the woman gave no hints towards it. But, if she didn't—it created an even larger problem. Emily wouldn't know where to start looking, or even how. Being locked in the castle twenty-four seven, unless leaving with Annabelle was what she'd been restricted to.
Annabelle held her chin, tilting a glass of water at her lips. Slender fingers raked their way through Emily's hair.
"Are you feeling unwell?" she asked.
Emily didn't know how to answer. She was fine before everything happened. She wondered how her nine-year-old brother even knew what a prophecy was. It was strange, seeing him and hearing him speak in a way he'd never done before.
A haunting scream travelled through the window. Annabelle searched the blonde's face, as if wondering whether or not she should leave her on her own. She hesitantly stood, instructing Emily to stay in the room before diving through the window.
The blonde rushed towards the window, watching as the slender figure landed on her feet. Her heart felt like it could beat out of its place in her chest any minute. There was a commotion happening steps away from the castle.
She gathered herself, feet pattering through empty hallways and down the winding stairs. The front doors were wide open, no guards anywhere in sight. She hurried towards it, trying her best to stay hidden, servants joining her only moments after to nosey on what was taking place.
Emily watched as the Queen mowed through men in the distance, a familiar wolf beside her, chomping on what appeared to be a guard's neck, tearing flesh. One of the men howled loudly before attacking Annabelle, trying to bite at her thigh but was kicked off. The blonde winced at the sound of bones cracking, black liquid escaping his lips as he hunched over.
Some of the men looked strangely familiar, as though Emily had seen them around the castle before. The queen's guards were turning against her. The men who swore their lives, and would have done anything to protect her were now trying to kill her.
Another man appeared, leaping into the air with a silver sword drawn, he drove it through the body of an assailant. Emily's stomach lurched at the sight, immediately feeling ill.
"You definitely have a rodent problem." The man finally spoke once the coast was clear.
The she-wolf was now in her human form, nakedly storming through the doors of the castle.
"Those men tasted disgusting." She muttered under her breath.
"Emily," Annabelle spoke up. The blonde was trying to hide behind a statue in the foyer, but obviously not well enough. "You can come out now."
"Ah, hello." She stepped out of her hiding place, awkwardly waved at the man standing beside the queen.
The man eyed her for a moment. His shirt ripped, covered in black splatters from the fight. His hair golden and tucked neatly into a man-bun with a fully bearded chin. He sheathed his sword before holding his hand out. "I'm Tristan." He spoke. "They call me the witch hunter.