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Enver Gortash was sitting in his drawing room when he heard a muffled shout and the slam of the front door.

He allowed himself one quick glance at the windows. A storm had blown in from the sea this afternoon, and dark, rolling clouds still blanketed the evening sky. The only thing Enver saw outside was rain. He certainly wasn’t expecting any guests other than the ones he already had.

He turned back to them with a smile, pretending nothing was amiss.

Tonight, he was entertaining a handful of senior officers of the Flaming Fist, plying them with imported cigars and expensive dwarven whiskey. The liquor helped to open their minds and loosen their tongues as he touted the success of his automaton prototypes and lamented the limited funding the Dukes had allocated for the Fist this year.

While he wormed his way into their good graces, he was also assessing them. He mentally noted who could be bribed, who could be blackmailed, and who could be bullied.

When his manservant stepped into the room, Enver frowned. He had given the man clear instructions about the importance of this meeting and how he was not to be disturbed. He usually displayed sound judgment, and yet here he was, stepping into the drawing room and bowing. His eyes revealed a healthy amount of fear, which was some small consolation.

Enver fixed his cold, unyielding gaze on the man and smiled.

“My lord Gortash, my sincere apologies for the interruption. Your associate wishes to speak to you and insists it is an urgent matter.”

Enver let the silence linger, drawing out the tension as long as possible.

“I am certain my associate’s business can wait. I would hate to inconvenience my guests,” he finally replied.

The manservant cleared his throat. “I'm afraid that your associate insists it is quite literally a matter of life or death, my lord.”

With his back to their guests, the man raised his chin, and Enver noticed for the first time the thin red line scratched across his neck from ear to ear. A drop of blood welled as he watched, and the manservant hurriedly dropped his chin.

Enver sighed inwardly.

Outwardly, he turned to his guests with a smile and said, “Forgive me, saers. Allow me one moment to attend to this emergency, and I shall return shortly.” He nodded in acknowledgment of the affable murmurs and gestures he received and stepped out of the room, his manservant following and closing the door behind him.

“I apologize, my lord, but she was rather insistent,” he said in a hushed tone. “She held a knife to my throat and said–”

Enver cut him off with an impatient gesture. “Where is she?”

“The dining room, my lord.”

“Wait here,” he commanded, and he stormed into the dining room.

“This had better be important,” he announced, flinging the door shut behind him.

The room's occupant paused her agitated pacing and whirled towards him.

The woman in front of him was as affected by the elements as the rain-spattered windows behind her. Most of her lithe form was swallowed by a black cloak that steadily dripped water onto the carpet. Her hood was down, and her crimson hair was just as soaked. Errant stands clung to her face and neck, starkly contrasting with her bone-white skin. But the kohl around her eyes remained intact, somehow, and the gold inlay decorating her horns shone proudly.

She focused on him and inhaled deeply, straightening her spine. His own gaze darkened as he looked at her.

She was his ally, his partner, his lover. His fellow Chosen, his Bhaalspawn. His.

Still, Enver watched warily as she moved towards him. He took one look at her eyes and clicked his tongue in a scolding manner.

Her golden irises were nearly eclipsed by the dark expanse of her pupils.

“Ta'av, darling,” he began with an edge to his voice, “what could possibly be so urgent as to interrupt my work? If you need to kill, the entire city is at your feet.”

“I don’t need to kill.” The tiefling stepped up to him, her attention falling to his lips, then his neck, then his chest, and she seized the lapel of his shirt. Finally, her eyes swept upwards to meet his. “I need you.”

“As delighted as I am to hear it, I am busy,” he said flatly. He folded the edges of her cloak back and over her shoulders, intent on preventing his own clothes from getting wet.

She wore a dark purple robe over her typical black leather armor, and he frowned momentarily; she rarely wore her clergy robes outside of the temple.

“Now, be a dear, and go kill something,” he added.

“No,” Ta’av said vehemently. “I need you, now.” She pressed herself against him and rolled her hips into his for emphasis. One of her hands flattened against his chest, and her touch was hot against his skin. Her other hand drifted down to tug impatiently at the top of his trousers.

Enver raised his eyebrows, regarding her coolly even as heat rushed to his groin. The way she licked her lips and bucked against him made the prospect tempting. Still, the essential tasks and moving pieces of their great plan were ever multiplying. He needed to maintain an iron grip on each and every variable.

No variable was as unpredictable or vexing as the enchanting creature currently writhing against him.

“You'll have to wait your turn, my dear. I'm afraid your desires cannot take precedence today.” He felt her nimble fingers beginning to undo the laces of his trousers, and he caught her wrist. With a sardonic smile, he maneuvered her hand to rest against the apex of her legs, his larger hand pressing hers into her leather leggings. “I have the utmost faith in your ability to entertain yourself.”

Ta’av was shaking her head before he finished speaking.

“No. No. That's not enough; it has to be you,” she insisted. She managed to slip her hand out of his grasp, and Enver inhaled sharply as she grinded down against his hand. 

She looked at him with an expression of pure want and frustration that made his pulse quicken. “I need you to fuck me, right now. I need your cock inside me, I need your cum inside me. Please, Enver.”

The desperation in her voice caught him off guard. His Bhaalspawn rarely begged.

“I can't wait, and it has to be you,” she continued in a rush. “I need - I need your cum, I need you to breed me, I need you to fuck a baby into me.”

Enver blinked and stared at her for a moment, uncharacteristically speechless.

“What did you just say?” he demanded, hardly believing his ears.

She grabbed at him with a new fervor, digging her nails into the sides of his hips. “Please, Enver!”

His Bhaalspawn rarely begged. In fact, she only did so because she knew he relished it.

She never did so out of fear.

Fear undercut her words now.

He roughly grabbed her by the chin, tilting her head back to carefully examine her eyes. “What in the world has gotten into you?”

“I need–” she began again, squirming, and he increased the pressure of his grip. The pain sharpened her gaze, as he thought it would, and when he brought his other hand to stroke between her legs, some of the desperation in her expression seemed to recede.

“Tell me what is going on,” he commanded.

She closed her eyes and shuddered.

When she remained silent, he switched tactics. “Tell me, and I'll give you what you want.”

Ta'av opened her eyes. They remained alarmingly dark.

“My Father,” she said slowly, “is... displeased. He is impatient for our plan to proceed, and he has sent me a warning of what will happen if I fail.”

“Which is?” Enver prompted, even as the back of his mind whispered the answer.

She looked away, avoiding his gaze, and sucked in a breath. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a murmur.

“He will impose His will and use me to create more Bhaalspawn.”

Enver nodded sharply as a sliver of dread sank into his stomach.

“I need...” She sighed, almost a whimper, and pulled at his clothing. “The urge is so strong. I fled from the temple; I ran here.” Her eyes found his again. “Do you understand, Enver?”

“I understand,” he said evenly. The sliver of dread was blooming into anger, cold and dark.

“If you refuse me, I will strip naked and throw myself at your Banites, or into the Blushing Mermaid,” she said fiercely. “I will–”

“Hush.” He released her face, slid his hand to cradle the back of her head, and kissed her. 

She kissed him fervently and bit his lip when he started to pull away.

“Give me but a moment to conclude my business, and I will give you what you need,” he murmured against her lips. He pulled back further to look at her. “Can you do that?”

She exhaled in a huff. “Only if you hurry.” 

He smiled at the petulance in her tone. 

“Go upstairs. Get rid of those wet clothes and warm yourself by the fire,” he ordered as he turned towards the door.

He didn't need to look to know that she glared at his back as he exited the room.

His manservant fell into step beside him as he strode down the hall and swept into the other room with a concerned expression on his face.

“Good saers, I thank you for your patience. Regrettably, an emergency has arisen that requires my immediate attention. Please accept my most sincere apologies…”

It took another minute of reassurances and flattery, but eventually Enver was able to bid his guests farewell without too many ruffled feathers. He would have to continue his efforts to woo them, and soon, or the delay would knock other carefully made plans off-kilter.

This is what she did, he mused to himself as he climbed the stairs. She introduced chaos.

The door to his bedroom was ajar when he reached it. He pushed it open and examined the room with one sweeping glance. The only light came from the roaring fire, which cast long shadows around the sitting area and the canopied bed behind it.

Black clothing was scattered everywhere.

Her cloak, still soaking wet, was tossed over the armchair; her boots lay on the carpet halfway across the room, next to an overturned silver tray and two goblets; and her leggings, shirt, and underclothes were strewn about near the fireplace. Only her armor and blades had been treated with care; they were methodically laid out on the chaise lounge. Her gloves had been flung towards the doorway, and Enver bent down to pick them up before closing the door behind him.

Ta’av was kneeling in front of the fire, her head bowed and crimson hair loose, clad in only her priestess’s robes. And calling them robes, he realized, was generous: she wore only a long expanse of violet fabric, draped over one shoulder and belted at her waist with a sash of black and scarlet. His eyes poured over her bare hips and legs and the sides of her breasts. Her white skin was luminous in the firelight.

Her eyes were closed, but her hands were curled into fists and her tail twitched and twisted behind her.

“Praying, my dear?”

She rose to her feet with a feline grace and unnatural speed. “Preparing,” she said.

“And wearing your holy vestments, I see. How devout you are,” he drawled, setting her gloves on a side table.

“Of course.” She stalked towards him, her eyes still dark and dangerous. “After all, you’re going to help me pray.”

Enver laughed and unfastened his overcoat. There was a bite to her words, anger simmering just underneath her need.

As he slid his coat off of his shoulders and folded it over his arm, she reached again for his trousers. He set his coat on the end of the chaise and took hold of her wrists.

“Impertinent thing,” he purred. “Tell me what happened first.”

Her head jerked up to look at him, pure indignation on her face. “I have told you already!”

“Tell me more.” Enver drew her arms to her sides and then brought them behind her back. “What were you doing? Leading the others in prayer?”

“Yes,” she hissed.

His Bhaalspawn wasn’t resisting him, not yet, but one single thread of her patience remained. Holding her arms behind her back, he pulled her against him and watched her breathing grow heavier.

“All those adoring followers, and not one struck your fancy. Not even the one who makes moon-eyes at you and eats out of the palm of your hand – what’s his name, my dear? Horriss?”

She glared at him even as she thrust her hips against him, creating a delicious friction.

“Not even when all of them would happily let you slaughter them when the deed was done,” he continued, and then he grinned wolfishly. “Instead, the Chosen of Bhaal, beloved Child of Murder, ran here to beg for Banite cock–”

In an instant, Ta’av twisted her arms free and smacked him across the face.

He laughed uproariously, relishing the sting, and pulled her in for a rough, short kiss. “You’re going to keep telling me how badly you want this,” he said in a low voice.

“If all you want is talk, Banite, I will go elsewhere,” she snarled. “You preening, insufferable peacock.” Despite her anger, she made no move to pull away.

“It is not, dear Bhaalist, and you will not.” Enver brought his hands to her bare hips, briefly digging his blunt nails into her skin and momentarily thinking of the gauntlet he was forging. Its golden claws would make such satisfying lines against her creamy skin. Then he hooked his fingers underneath her sash and pulled her with him as he stepped backwards towards the bed.

She acquiesced, but after a few steps she reached forward, gathered two fistfuls of his embroidered shirt, and yanked. The force of her movement sent buttons flying in every direction. He smirked, and she tugged the sleeves off of his shoulders and down his arms.

They reached the bed, and he spun them around to push her against it.

“Teach me how to pray, then,” he taunted. He shrugged off his shirt as the tiefling climbed onto the bed.

“Fuck me already,” she retorted. Her eyes eagerly tracked the movement of his hands as he removed his shoes and then moved to his trousers. She began unwinding the sash around her waist.

He shed his trousers and smallclothes and slid onto the bed.

As soon as he moved, she pounced, letting the sash fall from her hand and throwing her arms around his shoulders. Only his heavier weight and a split-second decision to brace one leg against the floor kept him upright from the force of her impact, and he caught her with a soft grunt.

Although she remained half-wrapped in fabric, her body felt feverishly hot against his bare skin. Bracing against his shoulders, she pressed herself up and down the length of his hardened cock, separated only by the purple cloth she wore.

“You’re positively burning up, my dear,” he noted. Enver managed to keep his voice level, pretending he wasn’t affected by the impatient roll of her hips into his.

She moved to rip the fabric away. “Shut up and f–”

“–fuck you already, I know,” he said with a smirk. He grabbed her hips, stilling her movement, and tilted his head back to look at her. “I will. But tell me, dearest: why should I not fuck your pretty little throat instead? After all, I know how much you enjoy it.”

He watched shock, indignation, and rage flicker over her face in the span of an instant, and right when she opened her mouth to hiss a reply, he shoved her away.

She fell back against the bed and immediately sat up, snarling, “I will kill you–”

“Yes, dear,” he drawled as he moved over her, placing one hand on her chest to push her back down. He quickly untangled the sash around her waist and threw it to the side. “First, however, you are going to beg for what you want.”

He tossed the length of purple cloth to the side. Before her temper could flare again, he pushed her legs apart and ran his cock against her slick cunt.

The effect was instantaneous: she arched her back and tried to press against him, and a whine escaped her throat when he pulled back. Enver took a moment to luxuriate in the sight of her naked and needy beneath him. She was dripping wet, and it took all of his self-control not to drive his cock into her right then.

Her shameless desperation, however, was too delicious to pass up.

“Beg,” he demanded with a cruel smile.

“Fuck! Fine!” she shouted back. “Please fuck me, please fill me with your cum, I need it so badly.”

When he didn’t move, she sat up halfway and reached for him, rubbing one hand against the long, elaborate scar that covered his thigh and digging her nails into his hip with the other. She licked her lips.

“Please, Enver.”

His Bhaalspawn begged beautifully when she wanted to. Her tail brushed against his hip, and he decided that was enough.

He lined up his cock with her entrance and slid into her in one long thrust.

Instantly, he was enveloped in exquisite, overwhelming heat.

He had thought before that her skin was hot to the touch, but that was nothing – nothing at all – compared to being buried inside her. Her cunt felt divine. He thought he might never want to leave, and from the way she clawed at his back and hooked her legs around his waist, she might never let him.

“Fuck,” Ta’av moaned. “Please – I need…” She trailed off, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.

Enver shifted his hips, pulling almost all the way out of her and slowly sliding back again. When he spoke, his voice came out as a low rumble.

“This is what you need, isn’t it? Me, filling you with my cock and soon, my seed.” He snapped his hips again, harder. “You need me to fuck you until you’re carrying my child.”

“Yes, fuck, yes,” she cried, squirming and pushing herself down to meet his thrust.

He groaned in response and quickly established a steady rhythm. Her need and the tightness of her cunt already had him in danger of losing control.

Reaching for her tail, he ran his hand along it until its barbed end brushed against him and then wrapped around his thigh.

“I should fuck you on your Father’s altar,” he mused. “Help you pray. Let the Temple of Bhaal see how very eager their Chosen is to fulfill her duty, hmm?”

She rolled her eyes at his words but still moaned each time he slammed into her, and she still felt like bliss.

“And then I should fuck you on Bane’s altar. An unorthodox prayer, of course, but I think he’ll appreciate hearing how badly you want to me to breed you.”

She bit her lip, failing to stifle a whine. A pretty flush had spread across her cheeks. “Gods, shut up.”

He grinned. “You’re enjoying this, pet. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way your cunt clenches around me every time I say I’m going to fill you with my cum–”

Ta’av lifted one hand from his back and slapped him across the face.

Enver never stopped moving. He licked his lips and tasted blood.

“Stop talking about it and do it, tyrant,” she breathed. “Or I’ll find someone else.”

He barked a laugh. “Ha! You forget you already are mine, wild one.”

“Am I?” she challenged.

He gripped her leg just above her knee, pressed it towards her chest, and hooked her ankle over his shoulder. His next thrust sent his cock driving even deeper into her, and they moaned together.

Their eyes remained locked on each other, and the crackling energy in the air between them was just as powerful as the heat of their bodies. He began to move faster, setting a brutal pace. Their breathing grew heavy.

“I’m going to claim your cunt, fuck you until you’re carrying my heir, until the world knows you belong to me,” he said, getting closer and closer to his peak.

She put her hands on either side of his head and pulled him into a savage kiss.

“Yes,” she panted. “Yes, do it. I need it, please.”

She kissed him again, licking and sucking his bloody lip and pulling at his hair. Her other hand snaked between them to touch her clit.

Enver had been holding back, teasing and taunting her, but he felt her walls flutter around him, and he let go. He slammed into her again and again, allowing himself to get lost in the endless heat of her.

She had him thoroughly entangled.

He was dangling on the precipice of oblivion when her orgasm crashed into her. She called out his name, and it pulled him over the edge with her.

As she tensed around him, he came, spilling thick ropes of his seed inside of her.

He let his head drop to rest against hers. For a few moments, the two lovers simply breathed.

When a wave of exhaustion hit him, he pulled out of her and rolled onto his side. She made a small noise of loss – a tiny whine deep in her throat – and he looked at her curiously.

She raised herself on her elbows, and the movement sent a small amount of spend spilling from her swollen cunt.

On an impulse, Enver pressed his hand between her legs. Ta’av inhaled sharply.

They looked at each other. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, then swallowed.

“I… I need more,” she said.

“More?” Amusement colored his voice. “You still feel this urgent need?”

“Yes!” She squirmed against his hand. “It’s not enough. I need more, I need to do everything I can to get with child.”

Enver decided that now was not the time to remind her of the contraceptive elixirs they both drank regularly. They had many plans, and a child had never been one of them.

“By the Hells, woman. You’ll have to be patient.” He sat up and ran his free hand over her curves. “Some of us were not carved from divine flesh, and we need a moment to rest.”

The Bhaalspawn only glared in response, and her tail returned to its pattern of lashing back and forth against the bed.

“Patience,” he soothed, even though he knew it would be ignored. Ta’av lay back on the bed with a huff. He pressed his palm against her stomach and slowly brought it up her body to caress her breasts. She arched her back to lean into his touch.

“I need more,” she said again. His thumb idly encircled her nipple, and she made a small noise of approval.

His other hand was still resting against her cunt. Watching her closely, he pressed the heel of his hand against her clit.

Her hips bucked against his hand as she gasped. The corner of his mouth twitched into a half-smile, and he slipped two fingers inside of her, then added a third.

“Is that better, my dear?” he teased.

She rocked her hips, each swell pushing her most sensitive spot against his fingertips. The flush had returned to her face, and she gazed up at him with wide pupils and parted lips.

“Better,” she sighed. “Not enough, but better.”

Enver watched, rapt, as his Bhaalspawn fucked herself on his hand. Even the sounds alone were obscene, with her wanton moans and the wet noises of her cunt as she moved. She raised her hands to her body and began to squeeze her tits and rub circles around her clit.

All the while, she looked up at him. His cock twitched, already growing hard again.

“Gods, look at you. Insatiable creature.” He gathered her long, crimson hair in his fist and wrapped it once around his hand. He pulled it hard enough to earn another enthusiastic moan from her.

“I need more,” she pouted between gasps.

His smile deepened. “Make yourself come on my hand and I’ll give you more,” he said.

She laughed a little, breathlessly. He felt an urge to kiss her, but he refused to stop watching her for even a moment.

Her movements grew more frenzied, her hips and hands moving ever faster as she approached her peak. She met the intensity of his gaze with a hint of amusement still showing on her face, but after a while she let her eyelids flutter closed.

She continued to rock her hips and touch herself, but her brow furrowed. Her eyes snapped open and fixed on his face.

“I want – need – your hand on my throat,” she breathed.

He hummed in satisfaction and released her hair. Despite her hurried movements, he took his time tracing his hand down the side of her face and passing his thumb over her lips. Finally, his grip closed around her throat.

It never failed to fascinate him how such a formidable creature, a ruthless killer, could look so delicate. Her slender neck fit perfectly in his hand.

“The Chosen of Bhaal begging for the hand of Bane,” he crooned, certain that his words said at any other time would have earned him some form of violence.

With her hands otherwise occupied, the Chosen of Bhaal merely let her eyes roll up and groaned as he began to squeeze the sides of her neck.

He watched her orgasm ripple through her: her perfect lips parted, her back arched, her hips stilled, her hands tensed and then fell limp. She gave a wordless cry as her cunt clenched around his fingers in a way that made him ache to drive his cock into her again.

When the last of the aftershocks had passed, Enver released her neck. Her body relaxed against the bed. He slowly withdrew his hand from between her legs and flexed his fingers, marveling at the mess they had created.

Ta’av watched him from beneath her lashes as she stretched her entire body.

“I still feel it,” she said after a few moments of silence. “I still need more.” She sat up and shook her tousled hair off of her face.

“Then you will have it,” he replied.

A flicker of relief passed over her, and she moved towards him immediately. Before he could react, she lifted his hand to her mouth and licked his index finger clean. The other two soon followed.

A wave of desire and possessiveness hit him so strongly that his heart stuttered. He seized her hips and lifted her onto his lap without thinking.

She positioned herself and sank onto his cock just as quickly.

It was perfection, yet again, to be buried inside her; to feel how hot and wet and eager she was for more of him; to hear her small moans as she began to move herself up and down. He kept his hands on her ass and the base of her tail, while his mouth kissed and nipped at her breasts. She dug her nails into his upper back as she moved.

“I’m glad,” she panted, “that it’s you.”

He smiled against her skin and bit down on her breast until she gave a small cry. His dark eyes found her golden ones, still nearly overtaken by her wide pupils.

“Admit the truth, my dear: you were craving my cock and dreaming of bearing my child long before your Father’s interference.”

“You are an insolent fool, and I should slit your throat,” she said, but her eyes glittered with amusement underneath the haze of pleasure.

“You won’t.” He lavished attention on her other breast, sucking on the sensitive nipple until he won a small whine from her. “No one else will do to sire your horde of Bhaalspawn.”

Her expression was unreadable for a moment. Then she closed her eyes and shivered.

“Enver.” Her eyes flew open and her movement stilled. “If we fail…”

“We won’t,” he said automatically, but she shook her head. Her full lips pressed together as a fierce determination took over her face.

“If we fail, if we are defeated, and if, somehow, I cannot end our lives… I need you to kill me.” That hint of fear had crept back into her voice. “Swear to me. I cannot let this happen–”

“It will not,” he said sharply.

“I cannot become that,” she continued, her voice rising and panic entering her gaze. “I cannot fully lose myself, lose my body, to have no choice. To lose even a – a child – to become mindless, I cannot, I would rather die–”

“Ta’av!” He grabbed the sides of her face, pressing on her jaw. “It will not happen.”

“I cannot,” she cried. “Promise me!”

“Ta’avrathim, listen to me!” Enver bellowed in his most commanding tone. His fingers sharply dug into her jaw and neck.

As he watched her, the cold anger he had felt when she first arrived came roaring back. He wanted to dismantle the Temple of Bhaal, stone by blood-soaked stone. He wanted to crush every effigy on the Sword Coast.

After a moment, Ta’av seemed to wrest control back from her fear, and her gaze re-focused on his face.

“Listen to me,” he said again, quietly. “It will not happen. We will not fail; we will not allow it. Together, we will take the Gate, then the Sword Coast, then all of Faerûn, and you will deliver death in droves.”

She nodded once, jerkily.

It was all he needed to say, and certainly all their lords and masters needed to hear, but his fury compelled him to keep talking.

“We will rule like gods, and we will rival them in our power. And – any child we choose to have will not be His or theirs,” he snarled. “It will be ours. Our heir, our legacy, ours and ours alone. Do you understand?”

Her eyes widened slightly, the hint of madness fading. She inhaled.

“Yes, Enver. I understand.”

Enver had never wanted or even imagined it before, but in his mind’s eye he saw a pale, dark-haired child with mischievous golden eyes.

He pushed the thought away as Ta’av kissed him.

She kissed him with all of the frantic intensity he had seen in her eyes. Their bodies stirred, hands and hips re-awakening.

She surrounded him in every way: her thighs rested on his, her arms clung to his shoulders, and her tail curled around his waist. Her cunt remained tight and perfect as she found a new rhythm sliding up and down his cock. As she moved to kiss his neck, even her hair surrounded him, falling forward like a scarlet curtain.

Enver’s hands moved to her clit and tail, determined to make her moans grow louder. He found himself murmuring in her ear, bestowing fragments of praise that he spoke like a prayer.

“My favorite. My beautiful assassin. You are perfection.”

She bit his neck and moaned against it. “Don’t stop.”

He murmured blasphemy like a prayer.

“My wild goddess. The world will kneel at your feet.”

“Fuck, Enver, I need you,” she keened. “I need you, still need you to come inside me, make me yours – ah–”

She bit down on his neck again as she came, and this time she bit hard enough to draw blood. He groaned as he thrust up into her, continuing to rub her clit while she writhed against him. As her cunt tightened around him, he reached his own climax.

Searing pleasure overwhelmed him as he spent himself inside of her.

When his mind cleared, he let himself fall backwards on the bed, pulling her down with him.

They lay in a quiet, blissful stupor. His eyes were drifting shut when she raised herself off of his chest to look at him.

She looked beautiful with his blood on her mouth.

“If you are not satisfied yet, you will have to seek a stud elsewhere,” he grumbled. “I am a mere mortal.”

She laughed. “Are you certain about that?”

“Yes.” He closed his eyes. “Be off with you.”

“Fine.” She traced one finger down his body from the hollow of his throat through his chest hair and down past his navel to where she sat. “I suppose you have the luxury of sleeping, while some of us have work to do.”

He caught her wrist, his temper stirring. When he opened his eyes, she flashed a mischievous smile.

“I take it that your mind has cleared, if our work is on your mind,” he said dryly.

She hummed noncommittally, but her eyes were sharper and brighter, once again catching the light like molten gold. She pressed her palm against his abdomen and slowly moved it up his body.

“Perhaps a clearer mind means that I can give my full attention to my prayers,” she mused.

He arched an eyebrow.

“You, however, look exhausted.” She ran her fingers over the bite mark on his neck and his split lip. “Poor little Banite.”

Enver did not flinch as her fingers pressed against the wounds nor when she leaned down to trace them with her tongue. Her lips followed. As she brushed them against his skin, she hummed a haunting melody that he couldn’t identify.

The familiar feeling of cool air and soft blue light passed over his skin as her restorative magic took effect.

He touched his neck first and was surprised to find that the wound still stung. His brow furrowed until he realized that her spell was still working, and its aim was not to close his wounds. Instead, the refreshing feeling spread throughout his entire body, soothing aching muscles, replenishing energy, and even sharpening his mind. The fatigue from the long day faded in seconds.

He felt himself stirring and heat beginning to bloom where their bodies were still joined.

Enver pushed himself up on his elbows, eyeing his lover with no small amount of surprise and a half-smile tugging at his mouth.

“That was generous of you, my dear,” he said.

Ta’av leaned forward and placed her hands on his chest.

“I am a benevolent goddess,” she murmured. Her grin was wicked and brilliant. “There is a price, however.”

“And what is it?” His hands brushed against her thighs.

“Worship me. Pray to me.” For just a moment, her smile flickered into a snarl. “That was for Him. This is for me.”

As far as Enver was concerned, it was all for her.

“I accept,” he said as he pulled her towards him.