Malcolm

˚

He’s not here when I open my eyes, and I’m not entirely sure how to receive that.

Pushing up from beneath my covers, I listen carefully in case he is near, but it takes only a handful of seconds for me to know he’s not. He’s not even in the castle.

I’m surprised when I don’t panic. Slightly disappointed, mostly relieved, but not panicked, which is a welcomed change. The last time he’d disappeared on me, I’d tracked him down without a second thought, terrified of losing him. This time, I remain where I am because somehow… I already know he’ll be back.

My shoulders fall as I sigh and flop back onto my bed. I stare up at the ceiling, my mind still in the endless quiet.

Serene moments like these usually felt like an encroaching black hole, its advance sluggish, but no less daunting as you tried to predict what was next to come in an eternal life. But this one is different.

This time, my mind runs wild with all the possibilities Aias introduces to my life, memories of what brought me here in the first place filtering in one at a time.

I had wanted Aias before I even laid eyes on him. When I eventually did, I knew in an instant that I would do anything to stay close. I scarcely dared to envision anything beyond that, certainly not within the tempestuous currents of my fantasies, but somehow, that’s exactly where we ended up.

And Aias…

I knew Aias to be hard lines and mocking smiles, but always polished. He was like a porcelain doll, features permanently moulded to carry a scowl, but then yesterday, parts of the mold had cracked.

Underneath hid a version of Aias I did not even know existed. The lines of his face had been fluid, shifting to express his desire, his pleasure, his every thought. I’d been exposed in every way, but I hadn’t been the only one bared nude.

Aias had not concealed a thing, and for a man of such poise, how deviant he turned out to be.

A shiver races up my spine as his whispered words slither through my mind, rivalled only by the echo of his fingers pressing into flesh, and the stretch of his cock in my mouth. I lick my lips, swallowing only to frown when I find it free of any strain.

Healing could be so annoying.

If it were not for my make, I am sure I’d be sore all over. From my throat to the inside of my thighs, where he’d gripped me to keep me plastered against him; but as it is, I feel as I did before our coupling. But inside… inside, I feel it all— his nipping teeth, his tongue on my neck… his fingertips tracing over mine to work his cum inside.

My fingers follow the invisible path he left behind, eager to do it all again until I force them away with a groan.

This was what I warned him of. I had a problem. My body received a bit of attention, and for too long afterwards, it craved more. But that did not mean I had to indulge it, not so soon at least.

For however limited it was, I did possess some self-control. I could and would find a way to cling to it, because the only thing more mortifying than Aias having to put me to bed again, because I passed out at some point, would be for him to discover me later, unmoved and chasing his touch.

I shudder at the thought as I drag myself out of bed and make for the shower.

Cold water rains down on me with a bite sharp enough to anchor to something other than the elf who had taken it hostage from the moment he entered this realm.

I don’t last a minute.

He had to have gone to see Kalem. With how bold he was, I doubt he’d run away from me. So he was at Lincoln’s, but for what? And why hadn’t he waited for me?

Did it have something to do with his ‘responsibilities’?

I’d been too excited at the time to really compute most of what he’d been saying to me after cornering me like an animal, but Aias had called me a distraction. And what an odd word choice that was for an elf who had been enslaved by vampires.

How could I be a distraction to him if he had been abducted while vulnerable, like I initially assumed? I could understand it if he was biding his time for his revenge, but he’d gone on a killing spree on night one. They were all dead, so what revenge did he have to claim?

It made no sense, as little as him still wearing his collar, and now I was a ‘distraction’ holding him back from his ‘responsibilities’.

Clearly, I was not a very good distraction if he was gone now.

I frown and then try to scrub it away. It did no good to react so, especially not after the night we’d shared. Better to remember the best of what had happened, like how he’d looked at me, as if his attraction to me was something he could control as much as I could my soul’s obsession with him. And his very blatant request to take me apart— to have me.

“Watching you made me spill.”

I stifle a curse as I rest an arm on the sleek tiles, using it to keep me upright while my free hand slips behind me. I was still wet inside. I had to clean myself out, but it doesn’t need to turn into anything more.

I try to remind myself of that as I work the tip of my finger inside. I bite back a hiss as my body tenses, coming alive as I stroke the sensitive bud.

Aias hadn’t only worked his cum inside of me once. He’d done it at least two more times, one of which had been when he’d cum right against my hole.

My memories turned foggy after that, but as I work myself open and cum trickles out, my body warms with acknowledgement of how it’d been handled and…

“Gods,” I breathe, shuddering as I cling to the tiles.

I get the cum out, but not my fingers away.

˚

Water town is precisely as its name suggests. A town on water.

In the beginning, it was just one house built on stilts above the natural canals that formed between and around the surrounding mangrove trees that stilled the tides. But others soon followed the first, and within a set of decades, it transformed into the quiet town it is today.

Hovering like the rest of the homes, the network of paths connecting each post runs through the city like a set of veins. Interwoven and adorned with bright, mismatched ceramic tiles, they run from the quaint homes to the small trading square that remains the only part of Water town open to outsiders.

It is here I enter, and yet, I attract a number of stares the moment I step out of the gateway connecting Earth to this secret metropolis. It is not as if vampires are banned, but we are, understandably, not the most popular species to date.

Thankfully, I am old enough that no one tries to discourage my trek as I walk the familiar plains, noting the names of the townfolk etched into the multicoloured tiles, and registering those anew or covered by a thin coat of coin vines.

I avoid the confusion of the busiest trading posts and shops, moving around the outer perimeter until my path thins, leading to the depths of the town where there are more mangroves than homes.

In the shadows of the overarching trees, the ceramics’ tint is not so bright, perhaps that is because of the natural covering, or simply a result of Kaghan wanting them to be so.

Either way, the path soon leads to one lodge alone, a small shop marked plainly as ‘Books’.

I slip inside, inhaling the scent of the aged scrolls and tomes that line the jagged shelves from the very entrance to the back of the shop’s innards. There are already two inside, a dwarf that pays me a fleeting glance before they continue with their scrolling, and Kaghan, who watches from his forever hidden post.

There were bids to see who would one day uncover where and how it was that Kaghan hid in plain sight when he possessed no magic, but those bids were yet to be cashed. Some said that if you were to burn the shop down with him in it, surely you’d be able to distinguish his ashes from the rubble, but I doubted it.

Besides, if any dared, Kaghan would send heads rolling long before the match was lit.

Turning left, I move through the shop’s maze, ignoring the columns of fictitious tales in favour of those of fact. This section is the largest, and I take my time carefully browsing the latest titles.

I was no bookworm, but my very best friend was, and it was his time of celebration.

The date itself was hard to pinpoint— a testament to time passed. It ate up your earliest memories, rendering them to nothing more than sentiments, lest you dug deep enough to try and pull the truth of it from its spindly roots.

I did not have time to dig, but did not need to, for what I felt was that the day I’d hoisted onto Lincoln centuries ago to be his birthday was soon. He had not wanted it at first, and I doubted he did now, but after he’d named me and helped me celebrate my first birthday, it seemed only right to do the same with him.

Birthdays were an odd concept for a vampire, because was it the day you were born or turned— or for us, made— and did either really matter? I didn’t know the answer to that, but I didn’t care to either. Celebrating a day that marked us entering this world made us whole—made us real—and for us to still be sane after so long required celebration. It also required a gift.

It is easy plucking what he would enjoy from the shelves: a first-hand account of exploring forgotten mer-civilisations in the Pacific, a new translation of the Noovin language, photographs of the moon from a pixie’s eye.

I have a stack in hand by the time I reach the end of the aisle and turn into the next. The edge of the column is at one of the furthest corners at the back of the shop, where the shadows are as dark as tar.

It’s here where Kaghan emerges.

“Malcolm,” he coos, fixing his glasses as he waddles into the light with his cane.

“Kaghan.”

It was not often that vampires were turned so old. When our numbers were expanded, it was usually among those in their youth, not those at the end of their lifespans. Whoever turned Kaghan had entombed him in an aged body, not that such a life was as miserable as he made it out to be.

He did not need that cane, nor those chunky glasses— enough blood and any former ailment could be rectified— but there was safety in appearing weak, and Kaghan harboured that shield better than most.

“For your friend,” he muses with a nod towards the books stacked in my arms.

“Always,” I reply with an easy grin. “Any more you think he would like?”

Without replying, Kaghan turns and waddles further down the aisle. He looks up only to pick a target before his cane rises to lash it down. I dip after him, just barely catching them as he knocks book after book from its perch.

“You have not visited in some time,” he notes, his tone as stern as any elder, even though he is barely a cub to me.

“I chose the easier route to dealing with time.”

He hums, understanding all too well, and then knocks another book free.

We continue on, quiet, until the door opens and closes, signalling the dwarf’s leave. Kaghan immediately straightens his crouched back and hugs his cane to his chest as he turns to face me.

“What is it you need? I do not need Diablos’ wicked eyes here.”

I hide the pain of that, keeping my expression plain. To bring Diablos’ attention to any vampire was as good as casting death upon them, and Kaghan deserved no such thing.

“I will make sure no whispers of me follow,” I vow, handing the books over. “A moment?” He nods.

I disappear out of the shop, taking after the dwarf and getting ahead of them. I pass through the other stalls, making sure I am in view of them and all others as I peruse the offerings, buying some and chatting with others until I decipher which store took my fancy the most and for what use is impossible.

Only then, and in the covers of the shadows, do I return to Kaghan’s keep, finding him already wrapping the books in a beautiful black ribbon with his glasses propped in his hair.

“So,” he prompts, “what is it?”

“What have you heard?” I ask plainly. “What has happened since Lincoln’s attack?”

I should already have the answer to that and more, and would have if I had kept my promise to Lincoln to snuff out what Diablos was up to. But I’d become entangled in what Aias may or may not feel for me, and before I knew it, the days had passed me by.

I would have to make up for them in spades and return to Lincoln with nothing less than tales of my very best efforts.

“He is preparing for war,” Kaghan replies, his nose notching as he frowns. “I do not believe he was at first. He wanted the slave or some sort of compensation, but then, chatter began.” Kaghan glances at me then, his sharp eyes carrying danger. “The First has caused a stir before, but never like this. Never for such…personal reasons, should we call them?”

Kaghan’s eyes hold mine, trying to gauge my reaction, but I give nothing away.

He was not wrong. Lincoln was always ready for a fight, but he’d never cared enough for anything enough to want to hunt and kill Diablos. Then, the human named Kalem entered the equation.

With a sigh, Kaghan snips the tied ribbons and begins forming a bow. “There is talk amongst the clans because of this. ‘How long before Diablos is handled?’, ‘Will the First kill him or simply humble him?’, ‘Will there be a new order?’”

“And Diablos can not have that.”

“And Diablos can not have that,” he parrots with a nod. “So war. It is his only option. If you have fangs, you must choose a side— his or Lincoln’s.”

“Lincoln won’t like to hear that,” I mumble, letting him have that.

“Oh?” He muses with a loose smile. “I would think our ever-present First would adore the chance to lead us all.”

“Sarcasm is quite rancid when it comes from the old,” I warn, and he chuckles.

“Advice I hope you heed, Fifth.”

“Malcolm,” I correct, and he nods in resignation. “What else?”

“He is readying his strongholds, growing his numbers, but he knows it won’t be enough,” Kaghan continues, and I nod quickly. I’d assumed as much. “So he’s going to the witches.”

“The witches?” I can’t hide my shock, and Kaghan jumps on it immediately.

“Not all are so adverse to our creators as you Prota are,” he states almost eagerly. “And does he have any choice when you have an elf on your side?”

Kaghan’s stare matches that of a hawk, and beneath its gaze, I turn mine to that of a predator far fiercer. He breaks first, looking at the books with a bowed neck.

For as much as I favoured him, Kaghan morphed into a leech for information and forgot himself too often.

“Did I lie?” He spits almost angrily. “We all know the elf is with you, and while Lincoln’s actions enrage him, the elf surely terrifies him.”

“And why would that be?”

Kaghan laughs then, the sound mocking as he props his hands against the counter and stares disappointedly at me. “Malcolm, the wise— that is your namesake. You can not pretend to be a fool. The skin does not fit.”

I scowl, and he chuckles again, the sound like a chortling goose.

“The elves never bother us, never even deign to look upon us, except for once before— do you remember it?” His eyes ignite as he works his tongue like a loom, weaving together tales. “The war between the werewolves and the humans. The humans were smarter things back then, but not smart enough to have been winning the way they were.”

I remembered that, dully. I did not care nearly as much when it all started. I’d seen too many wars, and this would be just like any other, except the wolves who should have decimated them in droves, struggled.

“Then that elf showed up— just the one,” he holds up a stiff finger. “Was it so terrible that we needed intervention? I do not think so. It was all rather bloody, but it would have sorted itself out. But then the elf came, and the tides turned. The humans lost all knowledge of us and their brilliance like that,” he snaps his fingers as he smiles so wide, his fangs show. “The werewolves were caged to their packs by those borders, and the witches—”

“The witches were not involved,” I cut in, and he clicks his tongue.

“If not, then how do you suppose the humans were winning?” He replies, his eyes glowing now.

I scoff, turning from him with annoyance. “What proof do you have of that?”

“Proof? I have only an eye to see and an intuition to string together broken pieces,” he replies tightly, his aggravation binding his muscles into knots. “They have always hated those wolves, and the humans were so vast in their numbers. We were turning so many back then.”

Kaghan gestures to himself, a reminder that he came from that generation of vampires that were turned in a near frenzy.

“Then the elf came, and it all broke apart, and whatever the witches had planned fell apart,” he says, sinking back into himself as he reaches the end of his tale. “Now, here is an elf, back again when war is brewing, and you believe Diablos would be above trying to gather the three bloodlines?”

My blood stills, turning to ice in my veins as Kaghan’s words hang between us like a poisoned noose.

“He would not,” I whisper, barely daring to speak it into the air.

“He would,” Kaghan replies as he fluffs the bows. “Not that he will. The Vorgium are wild fanatics that burn all who draw near them, whether that be nature or man. There is one Amorenia left, according to accounts, and her coven keeps her within their nest. That leaves only the Thoras…” He shrugs his shoulders, “There he might succeed.”

I feel myself relax, but not by much. Witches involved in vampire matters was not welcomed news, and certainly not witches from the bloodlines that created and enslaved us, but it revealed how desperate Diablos was. And how urgently we needed to stop him before that desperation returned us all to chains.

“There is nothing to worry about, Malcolm,” Kaghan soothes as he pushes the finished stack towards me. “You have an elf on your side, and they have a habit of stopping wars. And the elf is on your side, isn’t he, Malcolm?”

My hand shoots up, latching around his shrivelled neck. I squeeze, trying to purge the smugness from him while he claws at my hands with beetled eyes.

“You forget yourself, Kaghan,” I grind out past my fangs as I drag him over the table to me. “I do not take kindly to taunts.”

Kaghan nods his head, his eyes imploring as he rasps a plea, but before it can surface properly, the air around us shifts, thinning a moment before another presence appears at my side.

Aias. My breath catches as I take him in. He is not in my clothes, not the ones he’s worn since our meeting. He wears silks that flow from him like his long, shining hair, only their tint is a muted green.

It is as if I am seeing him for the first time—what he is supposed to look like, and probably does amongst his own people. Handsome is what he is, and being near him again makes my body burn as if he is touching me again.

Golden eyes flick over me while the rest of him remains tense. Annoyance wafts from him until he follows the length of my arm and settles his attention on Kaghan. The irritation evaporates, overshadowed instead by surprise as he looks between us, or more specifically, at the hand I have around Kaghan’s throat.

“What… is this?” He asks when Kaghan and I remain as we are, with Kaghan staring at Aias as if he has glimpsed a precious scroll.

“Nothing,” I reply, dropping Kaghan and exchanging him for Lincoln’s gift. “I was just leaving.”

I turn, leaving Kaghan to rub at his neck while I make for the door, only to stop in my tracks after two steps. Leaving as I came would not work with Aias at my heels. Word would spread, and whether or not Kaghan deserved Diablos’ attention, the people of this town most certainly did not.

I turn to Aias, surprised to find him already following, but beyond his perpetual frown, his expression is unreadable. “Can you take us back?” I ask, hoping he will not demand answers this time.

He lifts a brow, but slowly nods. Something warm gathers beneath my feet like heated coals, and before my mind catches up to what is happening, the floor beneath me caves in.

It’s as though it falls apart while I am dragged upwards, cast skyward and beyond, travelling through the Earth sectors as fast as I do when I use my speed. Only I can not feel the ground beneath me. I cannot feel anything at all, not even my own limbs, and then, I am on two feet again, inside the depths of my home.

I sway, the world feeling like a kaleidoscopic mirror of itself, until strong hands grip my elbows and steady me. I open my eyes with effort and meet Aias’ waiting gaze. He looks slightly concerned, if that is what concern looks like from him, but does not speak, not until he is sure there is no prospect of me falling apart where I stand.

“Elves can teleport?” I ask while I try to blink away the sizzle of magic still pulsing in my veins.

“That was not teleportation,” he dismisses, straightening even while his hands linger on my elbows. I give him a look. “Just because it appeared that way to you does not mean that is what it was. I am sure to the uninformed, your speed would appear much the same.”

I hate that he is right, especially because that was most definitely teleportation in some sense of the word.

“What did I find you in the midst of?” He asks, changing the subject, and once more donning his stiff expression, returns as if he never parted from it.

“A negotiation gone bad,” I retort with a gesture at the books stacked in my arms.

“Is that why you did not pay for them?”

“I paid for them in full.” Information was as good as gold for Kaghan, and he’d gotten his fill. I gesture over my shoulder as I turn, “I must deliver these to Lincoln.”

“That is it?” He asks, stopping me in my path. I stare at him, and he tilts his head. “I found you on the other side of this planet, in the midst of the first act of violence I’ve witnessed from you, and you have nothing to say?”

I tilt my head as a frown quickly forms to match his. “What would you like me to say?”

“An explanation, perhaps,” he offers in a near sputter. “First, concerning how you got there with no magic, and secondly, what could make you choke your kin?”

Something foul deepens my frown, and I am not sure if it’s the shame of having him witness a rather childish reaction from me, or the way he says it, as if my doing so to Kaghan was the same as him doing it to me.

I turn and head for the entryway. “I don’t see why I should offer an explanation for either.” I get as far as setting my stack down and locating a pen before Aias appears in my path. I sigh and do not try to quiet it as I look up at him. “Where were you then? Will you offer an explanation for that?”

“Would you like one?” He retorts calmly.

“If it is truthful, though I doubt you will tell me any full truth about your responsibilities.”

Aias’ eyes widen, true shock inflating them and while I bite my tongue. I had not meant to share that.

I move from him hurriedly, returning to my search until I find paper fine enough to write on. I had never been the whiny type, and there was no reason for it now. It was not as if I had been upset to find Aias gone, it had not even bothered me much. But Kaghan’s taunts continued to spin in my mind, and for all his questions, Aias never offered any information in return.

The truth of him and his purpose here remained a mystery.

I find a page thick enough to work without the yellowing of time, and take a moment to compose myself before I sign the edge for Lincoln.

Lincoln was a constant—my one constant—and he deserved a proper gift for his birthday.

I turn to reclaim the present itself, but Aias stands in my path with his arms crossed. It is hard to stifle my second sigh.

“Something has troubled you,” he declares readily. His muted expression is the closest I’ve seen it to worried. “Did that man offend?”

Kaghan had done far more than that. “I do not see how it matters”

“It matters,” he retorts, and his gaze darkens for a split second before the golden light returns. “Is that what causes your upset?”

“Why do you assume I am upset?”

“Because you have not smiled once, and I do not know you to be without your smile.”

I startle this time, and there is not a thing I can do to hide it.

Aias had been painfully honest in bed, but I had not expected the trait to transfer outside of it. It warms as much as it aches, because while this feels as real as his desire for me, I can not ignore reality anymore.

There is a reason Aias is here in this realm that has more to do with my realm and species as a whole than it does with me.

“I—” I clear my throat. “I have to deliver these to Lincoln.”

Aias eyes me unblinkingly, his stare as unmoving as my heart, before he nods stiffly. “Very well.”

He turns and walks away, evidently done with chasing the answers out of me. And maybe he has given up just for the moment or in general, but as I watch him walk away, the tightness in my chest that had made me snappish towards him unwinds as quickly as it emerged.

“You weren’t here when I woke,” I say, calling after him.

Aias stops, but does not turn around.

I swallow and force myself to try again. “I wish that you were.”

He breathes in deep, and I hear it just as I see the way his shoulders broaden.

“I wondered if you enjoyed it as much as I did,” I say, clutching the books to my chest, “or if I alone—”

“You were not alone,” he dismisses, tilting his head just enough to convey the words over his shoulder, but the rest of him remains unmoved.

I breathe in quietly, trying to calm myself, but it is hard when the last time we were together like this, he’d been on top of me, making me cum.

“So you would want to do it again?”

“Yes,” he replies without a moment’s hesitation. “And more… if you feel the same.”

“I do,” I answer quickly, shifting to ease the pressure building between my legs.

“Then that is good,” he says, before he continues on his path.

It is enough, enough to keep me riding a high all the way to Lincoln’s castle and back, enough to forget the pain of not being his focus the way he is mine, enough to forget the terror Kaghan had spun in me with his tales of old and new.

But Aias had called me greedy yesterday, and he had not been wrong.

“I touched myself in the shower.”

Aias stops immediately, and this time it is rigid, as if my words forced ropes around his wrists to pull him back.

“I meant only to clean myself,” I continue, the words rushing out of me, “but… I could not stop.”

There is a moment where Aias hovers on the other side of my large entryway, and then the next when he is in front of me, his hands on my hips, pulling me to him so that I can stare into his hungry gold eyes.

“Why are you telling me this?” He whispers, just a breath away from my lips.

“I don’t know,” I reply, shuddering as he slides a palm around my back to caress the dip there. “It feels like I should.”

He hums, his eyes quietly flicking over me. “You are a terrible thing. You should have waited.” When I frown, he explains it. “You should have waited for me.”

Good gods.

“You were gone,” I reply, the words coming out breathlessly.

“So you took care of matters,” he fills in, frowning slightly. “I don’t believe a creature like you should have to take care of anything.” His fingers dip beneath the fabric of my trousers, teasing over my ass.

“Fuck,” I pant, leaning against him until I feel the books’ bindings digging into my stomach. “I have to go.”

“You are not going anywhere,” he snaps, hand digging into my ass, and my legs turn to mush.

“I have to give these to Lincoln,” I remind, pulling back so he can see the books himself. Aias barely spares a glance down before the earth beneath us warms again, a moment before the stack disappears from my arm.

“They are with him,” he informs, tugging me back to him. “That should be enough.”

I shake my head, lips parted with excuses that are never spoken as Aias suddenly hoists me up and over his shoulder. I gasp, shocked enough that I do not move at first, but when he starts a hastened march further inward, I squirm.

“Do not fight me,” he snaps, settling a hand over my ass and squeezing hard enough to make me still. “I will not let you go.”

“Oh gods,” I mutter while my cock fills against his shoulder.

I could not fight him if I tried, not even knowing that his intentions might be skewed. But did it really matter? Once he did not hurt Lincoln, then he could do as he pleased.

The fact was that whatever Aias was here for, he had to be close to me for it.

A wise man would ensure that he stayed this close once the fighting started, as it surely would, and while I was many things, I was no fool.

———————–

Ooooo Malcolm said he got one eye open!

Thoughts??????

Thoughts on a look outside into the supernatural world??? On the chat with Kaghan??? On the end???

We always talk about how smart Malcolm is, but I really love it whenever it shows. Like how he knows that Aias is in a way using him, but also knows that he wants him too, and it can go both ways. I love him choking out Kaghan cause it reminds us that he is super strong under all his niceness.

I don’t know, I love Malcolm. I love how he lowkey got handled Aias in the end in his own way, like I see you Malcom!

I’m excited for what’s coming up soon, cause in Master, this was around the time Wequie did his rounds and we knew he didn’t visit only Kalem and Lincoln! 

Expect another update next weekend! But until then, a sneak peek of the Luciel-Peter extra will be up later today, and then extra itself will be out sometime this weekened!

Until next time,
Byeeeeeeeee Humansssssssssssss