Join me in night painted with crimson and black.

“A moderately quick death.”

The words have ranged in the chamber, soft and pleasant like a cold rippling stream on the burned wound. Lady Astra felt them though like a whip on an open flesh.

Lorian kept her here for two days, in a mirror chamber. The looking glass reflected her pale face, even paler now. The magic hidden in the mirrors was driving her senses mad, with mirages and cruel reflections, which showed her distorted visions.

But she wasn’t weak. She wasn’t frail. She lifted her face up, looking at the one who trapped her here.

Lorian stood only a step from her, with his black eyes buried into her; she could feel the morbid interest he offered her. She might be dead soon, but at least she could still oppose him. Nothing was worse than being a prey.

“I won’t give you the satisfaction” she hissed, a lock of her copper hair fell on her face, adding her a wild look. “There are fae who know who you really are. Those who won’t allow you to use them.”

Lorian laughed, lightly. His lips curled up in a smile, beautiful but oh, so cruel.

“Being used has many shades. Some even prefer being my pawns ” his lips were now closer to her ear, she could feel his warm breath on her skin. “And those who love being used are the majority of this court… enjoying being part of something bigger and… more thrilling. Especially when someone paints it as a privilege.”

She spat into his face but the spit hanged before him, not touching his skin, and fell on her shoes.

“Moderately quick death” he mused. “I promised that to your lord. He was so eager to follow my wishes, if I do so.”

“I do not care” Lady Astra’s hair fell again on her face. Lorian’s finger touched it tenderly and took the tangles off with a delicate move; caressing her skin lightly, and passing her cheek, to stay a bit on her lower lip. Her eyes widened with anger.

“Your lips said many things that displeased me. But it would be a pity to shut them before I hear your voice, telling me how much you want to die from my hand.”

“Never” she formed a wicked, desperate grin.

“Your spirit is indestructible. But I like challenges” his hand ran through her tangled hair and slightly pulled, close, closer. “You were so naive, Astra. Leira is a very talented soul. Skilled in deception. And you underestimated her. An unique unsuspected darkness always brings others to their knees…”

“Your wench,” Astra laughed, losing all decorum. “You call me naive, but it’s her who is a fool. She will end like me, sooner or later. And she knows it, yet she goes further into this pit, until the very bottom.”

Lorian’s eyes didn’t smile anymore. Darkened even more. Merciless. His grin became wider, more dangerous. She saw something in him, which made her toss in place, knowing he won’t be moderate. Ever.

“I could make a living example from you. Force you to eat yourself on the eyes of the whole court. But that would take the real pleasure from me…”

His finger lifted her head, and his lips got closer to hers. She was tossing in place still, like a fish on dry land, but he pressed them against hers, pushing his tongue in, his hands on her hips, pulling her to his chest, flattening her breasts against it.

Her tongue, her mouth, slowly started to melt, while his kiss was becoming deeper. Her eyed widened. Green orbs filled with shock. Molten skin stuck to her flesh, she moaned painfully into him, trying to free herself off. But the darkness was relentless and thirsty, disfiguring her inside. His kiss deepening, more, swallowing her pain. Tears ran from her eyes as he tasted her, her body squirmed in his grasp. He dragged her closer, relishing on her, and her anguish.

Shadows crawled from behind him, enveloping his hands, forming seething talons. He pressed to her body, burying burning night into her skin.

It cracked.

His hands reached under it, Astra tossed wildly when darkness dripped into her throat and burned the flesh.

He eventually sighed into her mouth, leaving the rest of the heated shadows inside.

Lady Astra looked at her not with hatred anymore, but with utter fear.

“Leira… I think you forgot many things about me, Astra” his lips glistening with her blood. “But you will remember them. Your death will be moderately soft, as I promised. But the path to it… delicious.”

She grunted at him, not being able to speak, her eyes filled with tears of pain. Horror in her eyes, skin trickling with hot blood.

And the hungry dark came.

And slithered into her muscles.

Into her tendons.

Into her nerves.

And pulled.

Her nerves bursted from her body, splattering on the mirror wall. A net, intricate web of bloodied threads, looking like a tiny lace, beautiful in its horror. Astra’s mouth opened in the mute and terrified moan of pain and fear.

“I possibly should stay and watch as they are eaten” he purred, leaning over her, inhaling the scent of her hair. “But I am assured that it will give you more comfort, when you won’t see me during the process. Moderate comfort. After all, that’s what I promised to your lord. Moderation. Graceful mercy.”

He placed a kiss on her shivering lips. His mind caught her begging, a wordless plea, which she couldn’t articulate but which appeared in her mind, which he gladly invaded.

“And maybe you will rest easier, knowing that your husband will be safe. Grateful for my compassion. Taking the offered life straight from my hands.”

Her mind screamed at him. It latched onto him with a filling taste of despair and hatred.

Lorian just chuckled, charmingly and… walked away, his shadows following him like smoky ghosts.

Lady Astra watched in horror as the mirrors reflected a slithering darkness which started to crawl closer and closer to her nerves, which pulsed with promise of even more intense torment. And the mirrors… They were both cold and fierce in their hunger. In their cruel thirst for her body and soul.

Just like Lorian Ain’Dal.