Kol quickly withdrew from her as the Lustlings appeared to attend to them. “Do you see how much I adore you, my precious? From this moment on I vow I will have each woman I use strangled in your honor. You are my mate and you shall be the only one to boast of having pleasured me, Lara. Come now, let us return to your bed. My rod has only just whetted its appetite for you and there is still a good long night ahead of us.” Taking her hand again he led her from the Women’s House. As they crossed the narrow bridge over the chasm they saw Ymir ahead of them carelessly tossing the bodies of the murdered women over the edge into the darkness. He had finished by the time they reached him and stepped aside with a bow to allow them to pass.
Back in their bed he asked, “Did you find it exciting to watch Ymir kill the women, my precious?”
“I am not certain,” Lara answered him slowly.
“But did it not add to the piquancy of our passions?” he questioned.
“It was exciting,” she admitted, “to watch as the deed was being done and at the same time feel your mighty rod within me while knowing that earlier you had rodded them, as well. But I need not such distractions to enjoy pleasures with you, my lord.”
He pushed her back among the many pillows upon the bed, his mouth finding hers and kissing her deeply. His tongue slid within her mouth and she noticed with surprise that his tongue was forked. Still, it entwined itself about her tongue sensuously, caressing, taunting, leaving her breathless with her need for him. Had she ever desired a man like she desired Kol? Her fractured memory would not cooperate and give her the answer. Then she decided that she didn’t care. She wanted him. She needed him. And he was hers and the great rod impaling her was all that was necessary to her existence.
The long night lay ahead of them and they used it well. If there was day in the Dark Kingdom, Lara hardly recognized it. Her world was now nothing more than satisfying her various appetites. If it had ever been anything else she could not remember, nor did she care. Her surroundings were beautiful and comfortable. She was well served by Macia and Anka. She had a wardrobe filled with exquisite and rich robes. Each time she arose she bathed and chose carefully from among them with an eye to pleasing Kol. On those few days when she could not take pleasures with him he visited the Women’s House, and afterwards those he had enjoyed were killed and thrown into the chasm. Lara watched from her colonnaded porch as Ymir deposited them over the balustrade of the bridge and then she welcomed Kol home with a smile.
The Twilight Lord was almost dizzy with his delight in her. Lara the Good, the gracious and generous faerie woman he had stolen, was fast becoming Lara the Wicked. In freeing her from her history and leaving her with just the barest of memories sufficient to survive, by filling her beautiful golden head with his own thoughts he was slowly, slowly, drawing her into his web of darkness.
When he had first stolen her he had let her sleep beneath his spell for two months. It had been difficult but it was important that she believe the tale he had concocted regarding her past. The Munin lord had advised him rightly that the longer she lay unconscious without her memories the easier it would be to convince her of whatever he told her.
For the past two months he had built up her trust in him as he led her further and further away from all she had ever known. Her appetite for lust was incredible. He had never known any female with such desires and such stamina. He could not get enough of her body, her kisses, her hot tight pleasure sheath that enclosed his eager rod over and over again. She was his. All his.
But now the idyll he had woven was coming to an end. He had to impregnate her for the mating lust was ready to peak and at the very moment that it did he must get a son on her, or he would be forced to wait another five years. All his seed would produce in the meantime would be daughters. And once he had made a son, the mating lust would never again come to him. Alfrigg, however, was chiding him daily for his tardiness.
“You must get your son on her, my lord, or we cannot proceed,” he said.
“But once she is with child I cannot touch her until after the child is born,” the Twilight Lord complained.
“Have you no other women to ease your lusty rod, my lord?” the chancellor asked dryly. “You have more important things to do.”
The Twilight Lord laughed. “Rodding Lara is indescribable, Alfrigg. But then if I were mated to your Eitri I should seek other pursuits.”
“In her youth Eitri was considered most handsome for a woman,” Alfrigg defended his mate. “But when you are over five hundred years old, the first blush of beauty fades, I fear.”
“I know you have my best interests and those of my kingdom at heart, Alfrigg,” the Twilight Lord said. “I will impregnate Lara soon, I promise you.”
“The darkness she carries within her is impressive, my lord. I have watched as you have drawn it forth from her,” Alfrigg replied admiringly.
Kol nodded. “Aye, she will teach my son well,” he said. And then he felt the mating lust within him, burning him, demanding of him that he do his duty. Alfrigg was right. As much as he regretted it, it had to be tonight. And it would be a night Lara would remember for the rest of her life. There would be pain in this particular mating, but she was more than ready to accept that pain. Kol smiled and licked his lips in anticipation. “Good night, Alfrigg,” he said to his chancellor.
The dwarf raised a questioning eyebrow to his master and Kol nodded. Alfrigg smiled. “Good night, my lord. I will pray to Krell for your success tonight.” And then the chancellor withdrew, bowing as he went.
The Twilight Lord sat for several minutes watching as a great storm began to roll in from the surrounding mountains, over his castle. This was another sign that his son and heir would be conceived tonight. The lightning crackled and the thunder boomed, but there was no rain. None at all. Kol walked between the columns onto the portico. He leaned against the cold marble balustrade and looked out over his kingdom. Within the mountains there lived a race of fierce giants and another of wily dwarfs; the forests covering the mountains were inhabited by the Wolfyn, a race of creatures who had the head of a wolf and the body of a man. They all owed him their allegiance. And now he had the Munin secure within the Penumbras. Everything was proceeding as the Book of Rule foretold.
He had captured the faerie woman ordained to be his mate. He had her memories, save those few she needed, safe in the great alabaster jar in his receiving chamber. After two months asleep and another two in his arms, she was his alone. She trusted him and tonight he would cajole her into admitting love for him. Then he would mate her, planting his seed deep in her womb. Lara would give him his son. And when she had he would restore her knowledge of the magic she possessed. She would rule by his side and use her magic to help him take first Hetar and then Terah. All the worlds would be his with her help. Kol smiled. How good it felt when everything was going well, he thought.
He turned back into the chamber and called to a servant, who immediately hurried into the room and bowed slavishly.
“How may I serve you, my lord?”
“Go and tell my bath master that I shall come shortly. Then go to the lady Lara’s apartments and tell her servants that I shall join my mate tonight. I wish her prepared to receive me when I come.”
The servant bowed again and then he said, “My lord, may I be so bold as to ask a question? I have not the right but we are so anxious for your happiness, my lord.”
Kol nodded. His mood was good.
“My lord…is tonight…” He hesitated, looking nervous.
Kol smiled broadly. He knew what the man was asking. “Aye, it is,” he said. “Now go and do as I have bid you.”
The servant scuttled out, then hurried to the bath master. “The lord is coming shortly for his ablutions. He has said that it will be tonight!”
The bath master nodded and began shouting orders to the other slaves in his charge. “You are certain?” he demanded of the serving man.
“He