Page 24 of Eternal Obsession

Their pale skin caught the silver light. Every movement seemed a language of longing—hips swaying in time with some hidden rhythm, wrists tracing invisible stars. They knew what was coming, what was ahead, and yet they patiently waited for their moment.

They formed a circle around Athena, and with an eerie swiftness they lifted off their gowns. The material tumbled around their ankles. Unabashed in their nakedness, their bodies glowed with the blush of cold air, bodies gleaming with dew. Their dance began, a slow unfolding of limbs, a touch of air against skin. Bare feet pressed into moss, leaving ghostly prints where they danced. A fine rain, each drop a benediction that kissed their bare flesh, gilding them in a sacred, spectral glow.

Two beauties knelt before Athena in quiet rapture. Taking turns, they lapped at her sex, and she threw her head back in wanting, glancing my way offering a knowing smile. Their tongues pink as they flickered pleasuring her there, bringing her to a blissful place, with Grace trembling with surrender.

Then she offered them what they secretly craved, a sacred gift of her essence, and one by one they knelt in reverence, drinking in the eternal flow of her power.

She commanded them to dance.

And they drew together and played out their every fantasy, like whispered promises that only nature understood.

The earth a churn of grass as bodies collided with one another. Sweat glistening over pert breasts, soaked trembling thighs. Some tumbling and others grinding in a frenzy of raw energy. Every thrust, every sinew hammering as locks of their hair plastered to their bodies. This was obscene as it was sacred, a gallant worshipping of the female form, a brilliant orgy of the night.

They twisted and coiled, naked bodies brushing and grazing, their needs spilling radiant and alive. Each collision a sigh, as they writhed and shimmered in an endless, intimate ballet of lust and desire. With some laying on the ground now, thighs unfurled, welcoming the gentle exploration of those exploring them, the woman sinking fingers deep into the depths of soft discovery to bring desire alive. Backs arching, moans carrying beyond the courtyard in a song rarely understood.

The rhythm grew as they swayed closer, twining and parting, eyes catching and holding in glances that spoke of secret oaths. One brushed another’s shoulder, another tilted her head back, lips parted to taste rain.

The air thickened, luminous and heavy with magic. Hair now tangled, laughter spilling, fingertips tracing the line between power and tenderness.

Being here like this felt wrong. I was a stranger watching something ancient, something not meant for my eyes. I wasn’t welcome, and I knew it.

Before the end of the ceremony, I withdraw from the witches’ orgy.

I flew through the woods and headed for the nearest brothel, paying several coins to the innkeeper before being guided to a back room by the prettiest young redhead. With the vision of what I had just witnessed still fresh in my mind, I doubly enjoyed the girl’s affections.

It was my way of keeping Athena safe from myself, from the restless hunger I couldn’t name, from the part of me still trying to understand what it was I felt. I treated this new woman with dignity, with an uncommon gentleness.

I eventually left her lying fatigued upon the bed, resisting the urge to drink from her, willing myself out of the room. Her death would have been a topic of conversation within the village, and I was trying to keep a low profile.

Within an old chapel, I descended into the lower chambers, delighted to discover a new coffin that had been constructed for some poor soul who had not yet died. I took advantage of the tenant’s absence and pulled the heavy lid down, sealing myself in, grateful for the rest.

Oblivion.

I was awoken by the harshest scream.

My head banged against the coffin lid. I leapt out. My heart pounded. Then I realized that the startling shriek had not come from anywhere near the chapel but had been transmitted to me from Athena. She was calling to me.

I flew out of the dark room only to stagger back, stopped in my tracks by sunrays that flooded in from the top of the stairs. It was impossible for me to take another step, impossible to save her.

The waking nightmare unfolded.

I withdrew into the darkest corner, crouching low and hugging my knees, recalling when Sunaria had called to me and I had been powerless. Here, now, another vampire begged me to save her.

Athena had been so engrossed that she had not sensed the five masked men approaching. All dressed in black, the assailants worked quickly with their torches of fire, setting aflame the house.

Desecrating what was truly sacred.

They stormed the courtyard, as though they had a right to enter this sacred ground.

Athena protected her beautiful witches valiantly, fighting back. She didn’t flee, but remained, trying to aid their escape. Refusing to leave until each was able to flee. Fighting off the men, fighting the vulgar assailants.

Athena’s strength was noticed, her pale telltale beauty revealing that infamous fashion of a vampire.

It was her they had come to claim.

She rose into the air but the men were upon her, grabbing at her ankles. Athena struggled fiercely, her inhuman strength throwing some of them off balance. But there were too many of them. Swiftly, they tied her hands behind her and bound her feet.

It terrified me to my core. Filled me with a fury I could barely contain. Had I been there, I would have destroyed them all. Yet all I could do was watch from afar, cursing this paranormal ability to see and yet do nothing.