An eminent girl who was known for her profound capability to exterminate any evil existence not knowing the fated ones she has eagerly searched for centuries are the feracious vampire kings that enjoy basking themselves in darkness. Nevertheless, be...
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WARNING!
this chapter contains a little sexual content.
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2003
Mavis felt the familiar pulse of magic that she had been suppressing. A radiant energy spread from her heart to the back of her shoulder blades. Closing her eyes, she finally surrendered to the yearning within her.
The blonde fae took a deep breath, and a shiver passed through her. The air crackled with energy and her body seemed to vibrate with a power that transcended the ordinary. The tattoo on her back began to shimmer with an ethereal light. The wings, once static and inked, now pulsated with a life of their own.
At first, it was a subtle movement, a ripple beneath the surface of her clothes. The fabric clung to the curves of her back and then, with a sound like the tearing of the night itself, the wings burst forth.
The inked wings on her back unfurled with a mesmerizing grace. Feathers materialized from the ink, glistening with hues of gold and iridescent silver. The air shimmered as if touched by magic, and the once-tattooed wings spread wide.
Her amber eyes opened, glowing fiercely as she glowered at the snarling nomad in her hold. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Attacking me in the broad daylight, you must have a suicide mission" Mavis drawled.
"He knows where you are. I'm not here just to kill you, my lord send me here to give you a message. The descendants of Demir Yophiel will pay for what he had done" the nomad laughed jeeringly. He enjoyed seeing the fae's stunned expression, she obviously knew who he was talking about.
Mavis extended her wings and a sudden gust of wind enveloped the room. The air tightened around the nomad's throat, his mocking laughter turning into desperate gasps for breath.
In the blink of an eye, she had materialized a spear and embedded him in the wall behind them. "Do not spout nonsense. That son of a bitch is dead, my father makes sure of it" Mavis fumed.
Her fingers tightened around the pole held. This can't be happening. She refused to believe it. Mavis's denial clung to her like a stubborn shadow. "Little flower" the nomad choked out the sentence.
Memories of betrayal and heartache flooded her mind, yet the undeniable truth stood in front of her, a truth she couldn't bring herself to accept. What did Mavis normally do when she was in a situation like this? Like any other being, she killed the source of her denial and acted like it wouldn't bother her ever again.
