Amory jumped back at Yavanna's jarring change in demeanour; from her usual timid self, to screaming and clawing in pain, to her glowing eyes opening calmly under the veil and watching him with a sly smirk.
He turned his head to regard her more carefully. She cocked her head at him before she slipped out of the covers and magically appeared at his side.
"Hello, my dear King. Amory, I believe?" She said, though it sounded like a question. Her voice was clear, unlike it had been a few moments before, and her tone was not something he'd heard from her before.
"It doesn't matter." She waved her small hand, "You're the Hundredth King. You look like him too."
"Like who?" He finally found his voice.
Her lips twitched into a smirk beneath the blue veil and in the next instant it was removed from her head and he was forced to observe those lips. She stood mere inches from him, her slender arms wrapping around his shoulders while she pressed her soft breasts into his arm.
Her glowing eyes were still trained on him when she answered, "Kieran."
His brow furrowed and her feminine warmth left his side and his eyes found her by the window, that tantalizing red dress also gone from her body, leaving her in only a white shift.
It was then he realized that this wasn't Yavanna. The timid woman would never act in such a way, he knew. "Who are you?" He asked, the threat clear in his tone. The threat that he wasn't afraid to harm whatever currently possessed Yavanna's body.
She chuckled, a sound he had never heard from Yavanna's lips and he furrowed his brows. Her glowing gaze turned to him, "You've not guessed? My, my. You're like his twin. Dense as the mountain behind us." She said with a shake of her head.
He scowled, "How are you doing that?" He asked, knowing that a witch of some sort had evidently gained control of Yavanna's body.
"Doing what? Speaking through this vessel? She's always been mine—her body, mind and magic were created so as to hold my presence. And also created for you." She whispered and he didn't miss the suggestive tone in her voice.
His chest clenched with something he couldn't name and he lashed out at her only to have her appear behind him, pressing her soft, small body against his back.
"I wouldn't do that, my king." She whispered, her hot breath caressing his nape. He stiffened and felt her arms reach around his neck. This.. witch was more an enchantress than Yavanna had ever been, he thought with a straight back, his body reacting in ways he didn't want it to.
"Your Maiden of Prophecy is very fragile, and you've already damaged her enough." She whispered against his ear and she suddenly appeared directly in front of him, "This female, this pure maiden was born to be of use to you. That is why you feel a pull towards her, why you feel the drive to protect her. And why you haven't been able to quench your thirst and lust with her."
He stared down at her glowing orbs, feeling his cock strain in his pants. She was touching him, stroking him across his chest, his arms and neck. She knew exactly what she was doing—he could see it in her sly gaze.
"You can't do it because she's not meant for such worldly things. She is your pure…'Lamb for the Slaughter', so to speak. Though if she does allow you to, I'm sure it will happen." Her warm hand cupped his hard cock and he groaned, focusing on keeping his eyes straight. "But we both know this vessel isn't the bravest of creatures."
He growled, knowing that his eyes had turned red. He didn't like this witch. "You haven't answered my question," he asked, his voice sounded ragged even to his own ears, "Who are you?"
She smiled, a chilling smile, as she backed away towards the bed, "I cursed you." His nostrils flared and his fists clenched in anger. "Ah-ah-ah." She tutted, waving her thin finger at him, "I also provided an end to your curse, the maiden standing before you." She curtsied clumsily and stood with tousled hair. "She is to be your freedom."
He narrowed his eyes, "I know this." He spat, then turned his gaze away, "But I can find nothing that explains how to end the curse."
She laughed and vanished only to appear on the bed behind her, kneeling, "Blood. Her blood is precious. Surely you've seen that?" She asked with a raised brow. He wasn't used to seeing her face. It was—strange, to say the least. "Well, simply go to the Ancient Caves and you'll have your answer."
He opened his mouth to ask her another question when her eyes rolled back and she began convulsing. He stood still for an instant before he appeared by the bedside. He wasn't quite sure what to do.
But he didn't have to worry for too long before Yavanna's body slumped to the blankets. He stared at her for a long while. At her peaceful face, her breasts rising and falling with even breaths. She looked as though she hadn't just been possessed by an ancient witch and was just sleeping quietly, in his bed.
His mind began to conjure a plan. Amory wasn't sure if she would like it—what did he care? He didn't. He shrugged it off and removed his outer clothes.
After readjusting Yavanna's position on the bed so that she laid on the opposite side to where he usually slept, he rested himself beneath the quilt and stared at the fire. Wondering if Yavanna was truly as powerful as she'd been that evening. Or if the witch had brought her own powers to the scene.
Whatever it was, both were dangerous.