DOUBLE UPDATE!!!!

– 1 chapter of OMEGA

– 1 chapter of Aiasthlyn

I hope you enjoyyyyyyy 😆
p.s – sorry for any and all errors, they’re on me, not my editor

————-

Malcolm

˚

Things change between Aias and me.

He changes.

It started the very same night we came together, and he told me that he wanted me too.

For the first time, he said it his own words and without leaving any room for doubt, and that had already been heady enough.
I had barely any sense or strength left to do much other than allow sleep to take me when it came, but then Aias did the strangest thing.

He stayed.

Sometimes he lingered after, caught his breath and even shared a word, but he always left after we peaked, and if I were in his room, then I was expected to do the same.

That night, Aias stayed.

When I noticed it, I decided that I was already asleep, so sated that my dreams had merged with reality, but what a pleasant illusion it was. Then I woke with his arm slung over my waist, and his nose pressed against my nape, and stayed perfectly still until he woke, while internally, I was a screaming banshee.

The touches came next.

A hand on my waist to steer me so, fingers trailing my arm when I was close enough for it, his palm warming the base of my spine whenever it could.

I’d learned to stop startling each time, to stop letting my surprise show so blatantly, but I could do nothing to quiet how much it all pleased me.

I was probably too obvious with it, my smiles too big, my returned affections tellingly elated, but Aias had never given me so much at once, and I did not know how to deal with being spoiled.

I knew no one else would see it that way. Lincoln would likely name me a fool for being so happy with so little, but it was not little. Not with Aias, who measured every breath he took as if the next might cost him his life.
And I saw it sometimes, in the way he would stare at his own hands when they were on me. Frowning as if he did not mean to put it there, but he never moved it, never took himself from me.

That was enough for me. He was enough for me, more than enough.

Aias was everything.

“You have stopped working.”

“Huh? Hm?” I sit up, pen almost falling from my fingers as I look to him.

Golden eyes stare back at me, a slight smile playing on his lips as he nods his head towards the ledger before me.

“Oh,” I breathe, chuckling as I look away. “I got lost in a daydream.”

Aias eyes me as if he wants to ask about what, but the question must answer itself because the quirk in his lips quietly lifts higher. He leaves his eyes on me until his attention falls back to his own workings, but I feel its lingering touches as I force myself not to stare.

I am not sure how or when we began working together on the days we were both here, but it started amongst the rest of the changes, and though Aias never let me see what he read or wrote in the rare instances he put thought to paper, it was nice. Intimate.

I loved it too much.

But it was distracting, like the rest of him. 

Shaking my head, I glance over my collated list of clans to indoctrinate as it was.
Some were large in number, weak in strength, morally aligned but terribly backwards, but they were all clans that had the potential of joining our side of the fight.

We would need to start recruiting and soon, but before that, the blood needed to be worked out.

In technical terms, vampires had a never-ending blood supply that was accessible to us from almost everywhere, but if we went around eating every human in our vicinity, then we’d be living with them rather than amongst the supernatural and the world would look very different.

There was a way to do things, and most vampires had a routine and source to accommodate their needs without raising any flags. But those systems would be sure to break down once we started congregating in large numbers, and I was not going to lose this war before we even started because I failed to prepare a proper blood line while I had the time.

Folding the page over, I slip free the sleek, silver dagger waiting on the inside.

Wequie was usually faster to answer a call, especially as a supplier, but the blade remains still, the energy pulsing inside the red handle.

“Concerned?” Aias voices from his side of the room. I glance over, but his eyes remain on his book this time as he lazily opens a new page.

“Reasonably,” I retort, and he nods, focusing on his reading until I speak again. “Are you? Have you come any closer to figuring out what Kalem is?”

Aias shakes his head, a neglectant hum slipping past his lips. “Not yet.”

I hum as I bite my cheek, caging my smile in case he spots it.

I had not the slightest clue of what Kalem was, but I would have made figuring it out my immediate priority if not for the elf sitting opposite me.

Aias knew, and whatever Kalem was, he was not fond of it, but he was fond of Kalem. The lines were blurred for him, enough that he kept playing ignorant while he chose to stay close. 

The reasons may evade me, but that I knew without a doubt.

More often than not, he slipped out to go watch him as if he were a ticking bomb. He likely did other things too when he went, but I had no way of understanding elven magic, let alone tracking it and from what I could tell, Kalem was blissfully unaware, and still happy with Lincoln, so that was all that mattered.

In my mind’s eye, Kalem had become Aias’ problem, and once he was not suddenly attempting to kill him or Lincoln, then Kalem was a problem I would not yet concern myself with.

There were more important matters first.
Blood, our numbers, the war, and time was running out, not only to prepare as best as we could, but to enjoy what little peace was left before it scuttled away in search of shelter.

Soon enough, a moment not outlined by bloodshed would be hard fought. Days like this, rare. The quiet, a memory.

I look to Aias again.

Would he still stay close when Lincoln and I were not the only vampires nearby? It was no secret he hated our species, and I understood why, but would that take him from me, with the peace and quiet too when there were more, or would he stay?

Would he stay with me?

“Another day dream?” Aias muses, humour playing in his eyes when he looks up.

I barely get to savour it before the handle of Wequie’s begins to warble, the hiddle capsule inside vibrating before a puff of reddened mist escapes its centre.

Pheromones rise into the air, aged and specific to one incubus alone. I do not hesitate to breathe it in as it drifts to my ears, and my eyes roll into the back of my skull as Wequie invades my mind.

He makes it short and simple, his message. 

He provides a view of the outside of a low building several cities away. The first glimpse of it is mundane, but the inside carries more suggestive materials— velvet, lace, and open skin. 

A setting and an invitation all in one, one catered just for me.

I sigh as his influence recedes from my mind, only to draw in a sharp breath as my eyes find Aias’ mere inches away. 

He hovers over me, hands planted on either side of my head as panic runs rampant over his features.

“What happened?”

My eyes track dazedly between his and the knife now sitting in the back corner of my room by the door, a secondary thought.

“Malcolm.” My eyes dart back to his. “What. Happened?”

He demands the answer from me and so even dazed I give it.

“Wequie,” I mutter, the only word I can get out first, and his brows dig deeper, a threat building beneath them. “He sent a message.”

“That was a message,” he asks, disbelieving.

“He can manipulate his pheromones,” I explain while he tilts my head slightly, examining me. “They can collect their pheromones and make stores of it. He uses blades, and they can be made weapons when he releases his influence, but we use them differently. Between us, it’s the fastest way to send me a message when he’s far away.”

The gold in his eyes pulses, only just beginning to settle as unfamiliar warmth spills inside me from his fingertips.

“What are you doing?” I ask, and his gaze sharpens to share his warning.

I bite my lip and let myself enjoy it instead.

It is like a hug from the inside, as if… honey has been dropped in a pool of cold water, but I feel the sudden change, the difference and the sweetness of it. As though he lets a part of him bleed into me, and I’m pressed to imagine anything better.

“Stop smiling,” he snaps when the rest of his panic finally fades.

“I can’t,” I reply, and he scowls at me as he lets my chin go, but he does not leave my side.

Instead, he fixes himself beside it on the couch, ensuring his body presses against mine. I inch closer and have to squeeze my fists tight to keep my glee contained when he does the same.

It takes holding my breath not to cry when I rest my head on his shoulder, and he slots his over it.

“What was the message then?” He asks snippily, once again returned to his preferred state of prickliness.

It was the Gods’ blessings that we were close enough that I knew his barbs would not hurt me.

“He wants me to come to him to find out,” I reply while I breathe him in, taking note of the earthy scents that seemed to cling to him. Fresh rain, clean soil, rich nature. “He has information from me, but also wants to see me. To catch up.”

“To catch up?” He repeats and I have to bite back a laugh.

Aias was adorably literal sometimes, something I had not noticed at first because he never let it show, let alone chased it with questions, but had just begun to.

“Find out all we have missed in one another’s lives,” I explain and he hums, but says nothing else.

In the quiet, I stare out at the space ahead while I try to savour every second of this moment I can.

I should already be on my way to Wequie. I had not seen him in so long, and time was of the essence, but so was time with Aias.

It was worth more than gold to me, and richer than any newfound treasure, especially time spent like this, where we were close to one another without lust being made a part of it.

I was not strong enough to put a stop to it, would only hate myself if I did, so I leave it to him instead, knowing soon it would be too much for him, but as the minutes pass with Aias remaining right where he is, my heart flips only to sink to imagine that this is where he plans to stay.

Right here, beside me.

“I…” I curse myself as I close my eyes and speak the truth. “I should be on my way.”

He hums again, but does not move, and I wonder if this is intentional torture and what I have done to the Gods as of late to deserve it.

For a moment, I consider ignoring Wequie’s invitation, but I was not such a terrible person to do so after asking for a meeting and his help, but I did not want to leave Aias’ side.

If only I could take him with me.

I still, the idea striking more persuasively than I am prepared for.

No, I could not. That would be too personal, for him and for me, but Gods, it would be glorious, wouldn’t it?

My mind conjured images of Aias and I in the setting Wequie had shared, with the low lights and the velvet, and soon nothing can dislodge the desire from me.

“You are welcome to come,” I say, sitting up to face him. “With me. It would be business at first, but then fun and—” I pause, my ears suddenly too hot to ignore. “I think you would enjoy it.”

Suspicion roots itself in his eyes, but it soon fades as he realises it is no plot or trick, only an honest invitation, and that makes him hesitate because while he was usually more than eager to stalk me for information, those instances fell neatly under the ‘work’ category for him, whatever his work was. 

This would be personal, and Aias was essentially allergic to personal.

I shift, wanting to beg, but then I would give too much away and I was not yet sure whether it would be best to warn him of where we would be heading when we were on the way, if he came with me, or now.

“What is it?” He asks, voice as sharp as a whip. “What is different about this time?”

Inappropriate lust slithers through me, but nerves soon do all the work of clearing my head as if it never existed at all. I shift again, trying to stop myself from looking so damned nervous or horny, but it is a challenge with him this close.

Aias knew what I liked. The fact that there was a venue suited for all the things I liked would not send him for the hills, I hoped.

The gods alone knew if elves preferred to keep their depravity behind closed doors, though that was hard to imagine after what Aias had done during Lincoln’s last visit, right in front of them.

This would be fine.

“Wequie is at a kink club,” I say as casually as I can. “That is where I will meet him.”

“Kink?”

Okay. New objective— explain kinks to a kinky elf. 

“A place for those who like certain, niche activities and exploits in bed, to do them out in the open.” Golden eyes bulge before me. “Or just watch them!” I hurry to add. “Or talk about them. I think this one is more social.”

I could not quite picture Wequie planning to discuss large-scale blood distribution while someone was getting pounded on a stage, but then again, I entirely could.

“We would just watch and talk and… be,” I say when Aias keeps staring at me as if I’ve sprouted a third eye. “It could be fun.”

The staring continues and does not stop, not even to spare him a chance to blink.

By the time he speaks, there is a row of knots lining my shoulders. 

“You have been to this place before?” He asks, not judging, but seemingly curious. “Or to establishments carrying a similar purpose?”

I nod, and something indistinguishable travels across his face.

“Alone, usually, or with Wequie,” I clarify, even as it costs me some of my dignity. “It was just nice to see people who maybe liked what I liked.” actual receive it.

He hums, but I can not tell what it means to say as he continues to peer at me as though he’s desperately trying to figure me out. 

I blink back at him, trying for a smile. Anything he wanted to know, I would share.

“I do not think that I should,” he says finally, and it is as if a blade had been shoved between my ribs.

It should not hurt. Really, it should not, but it seems I have been overly spoiled lately and forgotten myself. 

“Of course,” I reply, ducking my head to hide my disappointment. It crashes through me, and immediately drags me under its surface. “I only wanted you to know that you were welcomed.”

Aias says nothing. He does not even hum or move a muscle, so I do, before I start wanting for more again.

“I will see you when I return, I hope,” I say once I am on my feet. I stride quickly to Wequie’s knife, retrieving it from the ground. I grip it so tightly, it splits my skin. “I should not be long.”

I slip from the room without looking at his face, and when he calls my name, I pretend I do not hear it.

˚

“What’s this?” Wequie blurts the moment he steps outside the grand doors, heeled boots clicking after both him and his lace robe. “You’re about to enter heaven, you can’t be sad. It’ll clash with the interior.”

A laugh bursts from my chest as my lips curve into a smile. It finds the room to widen as I step into his open arms and hug him tightly.

“I take it Thranduil was not down?” He asks as we part and I frown. “Tall elf with long blonde hair from a movie.”

“Yeah,” I mumble as I try to keep my shoulders from dropping another inch. “It seemed too much.”

“For that lewd fucker, I doubt it,” Wequie snipes as he loops his arms in mine and marches me back through the pillared, black doorway. “And here I went out of my way to choose one that wouldn’t scare him away.”

He tsks, his offence true and my smile has no other choice than to remain exactly where it is.

“How are you, Wequie?” I ask while he bypasses security and reception with nothing more then a wave and a kiss as he leads us deeper into the darkening interior.

“Great,” he replies while mirth sparkles in his eyes. “The spoils from you and Lincoln kept me sated for a good while and I’ve been cruising ever since. I mean, good fuck after good fuck. It’s been sensational.”

“I’m glad,” I reply, and I mean it. 

Wequie had many ups and many downs, but knowing he had been riding one of his ups for so many years made me feel more at peace.

“What about you? The elf treating you well, ya know, besides not coming tonight?” 

“Yes,” I reply and I mean that too.

He takes us past a doorway with music to another shadowed by a curtain that he shoves aside as if it has offended him. Inside, an elegant changing room awaits, but it is thankfully empty.

“We’re closer. It has been good lately, very good.”

“But latex and lace is where he draws the line?” He deadpans, forcing another laugh out of me. They did not know how to stay away when Wequie was near.

“I did not get the chance to ask,” I admit while he pops a locker open and begins fishing around inside. “I think he would love latex actually, and me in latex for that matter, but… I think he wanted to remind himself of his boundaries.”

“Well, maybe he should have thought of that before he came all over you like an animal,” Wequie grumbles over his shoulder. “You smell like a gloryhole for one, and while ya know, props to you, he’s got crazy ideas of what’s too much.”

I stand still. with my tongue heavy in my mouth. A gloryhole?

Before I can even try to find my words, he turns to me, hands still lodged in the locker. “And also in you?”

This is a question. An inquiry made serious as he squints at me. 

“You seem it— fucked I mean, but you still smell unplucked. It is confusing me.”

“Gods.” 

My skin burns as I try to find my words, but they are lost to me as the idea of shame has always been to Wequie.

I had not struggled with his blatancy in years, but that was because I’d never had something this monumental to share.

I chew on my lip as I fall into one of the room’s open divans, letting my face fall into my palms as I do.

“He says we can not have sex,” I begin and Wequie immediately drags in a sharp breath. “That he can not,” I correct.

“Can’t or won’t?” Wequie checks.

“Can not, but it is possible, he’s just—” I sigh, letting my palms drag over my face as I try to breathe. “He has these random rules that he does not seem willing to break and that is one of them.”

“So…” Wequie encourages, mind stuck on the subject at hand.

My skin heats behind my palms. “So, he… when he cums… he puts it inside of me.”

“…What?”

It is as though I am suddenly made of lava.

“He works it inside and makes me hold it,” I blurt as I drop my hands with a huff. 

I find Wequie staring at me, and for the first time in perhaps a century, he looks well and truly shocked.

“Malcolm, what the fuck do you have going on?”

“I do not know!” I exclaim as I fall onto my side with a sob.

The first time, Aias had fingered his cum into me, I’d been already so cum-drunk that I hardly noticed. Same with the time after that, but then after that night, it started to feel different.

He would cum and I’d barely be holding my pleas for him to use me to do it, or they would have already spilled out anyway, and then, he’d be there, saying—

“Here you go.”

“Let this be enough.”

“Please let this be enough.”

And once he realised that I usually came once again on his fingers while he was saying those things, it turned into—

“There you go.”

“Good pisen.”

“Make it last.”

And now, not a day went by where Aias did not cum against my hole and help me work it deeper inside myself.

“I don’t know what’s happening. It’s all spiralled out of control,” I groan as I stare up at him. “I just really like him.”

“Oh, Mal,” Wequie sighs, face softening as he peers sadly at me, and I do not know what is worse, the pity in his eyes or the smile that accompanies it. “He’s got you in stitches, doesn’t he?”

“Shibari,” I correct with a pout, “but the rope is invisible.”

Wequie laughs, the pretty sound chirping from him as he turns back to the locker and fishes out two pieces. He holds them up for my inspection.

Grey shorts and a black top robe that would probably give Wequie hives, but is just perfect for me.

I nod, and he tosses it over with a pleased grin. We switch places, and while I change, he toys with the straps hanging from his complex getup.

Beneath the robe, straps of lace and latex overlap to the point of cohersion, teasing at the lines of his waist, v-line and chest.

“Maybe it’s the same for him,” he says contemplatively. I raise a brow, and he explains. “You’re not inexperienced, but nobody has ever really turned you on like he does. Maybe it’s the same for him, and you’re pressing that button inside, and he’s just trying to slow it down.”

I hum as I jump and tug the shorts. “I think that sometimes. He said it was different, what we have, but…”

“What? You don’t think you’re someone’s perfect dream?”

I avoid his eyes, and he groans. “Malcolm, are we going to have to address this every century? You’re a catch!”

I take my shirt off and focus on my robe, and Wequie mutters a curse before he jumps to his feet, struts straight over.

When he reaches me, he takes my face in his hands and forces it up to look him in his golden eyes.

“You’re amazing, Malcolm,” he says as if he is under oath. “You’re hot, kind, smart as fuck, and a total submissive harlot.” I chuckle, and he smiles. “You’re a catch, elf or not. Don’t you dare forget it.”

I nod, but that’s not enough for Wequie.

“Say it,” he demands.

“Wequie…”

“No. You say it right now, or we’ll stay here all night, and then I’ll never forgive you for making me miss a good meal out there.”

Lips curling, I fail to fight my growing smile as I peer at him and say it right. “I’m a catch.”

“Hell yeah, you are. Now, let’s get out there and be hot, get a drink and then I’ll bring you up to speed.”

I nod and Wequie helps me pull my robe on, tugging it here and there so it sits just right before he sighs happily.

“I’m so talented.”

Without waiting for my agreement, he loops his arm back in mine and we march out together into the main event.

Truth be told, the space is conservative, even by Wequie’s standards. 

The low lights illuminated specific pockets rather than the space as a whole, and what escapes the darkness is more beautiful than anything. 

Groups chatting casually, couples in the midst of a deep and passionate embrace. A person on their knees behind a thin curtain, too tightly surrounded to see it all. An oval bar cast in a soft orange.

It is of the times and even though it differs from the last I braved with much less open debauchery for one, it is still a sight for severly sore eyes.

At the bar, Wequie gets us two aged whiskies and pays the bartender with a wet, sloppy kiss before he slots us into one of the dimly lit alcoves where plush, green velvet greets us warmly.

I take a sip and accept the burn that follows as I let myself relax.

“Why a human one?” I ask as I let my gaze linger on the various scenes of play.

“Less drama,” he surmises behind his own glass. “But also, someone I thought you may want to speak to is here.”

I follow his gaze to where it rests on a pair of women covered in lace.
One is in black, the other in pink, but they’re still robes hardly hide their bralettes and all the exposed beneath, and if they ever did, then how they tug at them between kisses, hardly helps.

My heart tugs, unruly jealousy sprouting inside of me as I watch the one in pink melt beneath the other’s touch.

“The one is black? That’s Ve Sterling,” Wequie explains quietly. “She’s one of the biggest blood suppliers on this side of the planet.”

My eyes widen as they jump to his. “She’s human.”

“Yes, she is,” he replies with a soft cackle. “She’s got it set up as a blood donor agency, and it is, but they section off a good chunk of it for those with fangs who are willing to pay.”

“That’s…clever.”

“Right?” He takes another sip. “She likes money, but she also hates trouble. So while I’m sure she’ll agree to be your sole supplier for the right price, she won’t want to get involved with personal conflicts.”

I frown at his wording, but I get what he means. The war between vampires would hardly constitute as anything other than personal to someone on the outside.

“Wait,” I breathe as my thoughts catch up to me. “Sole supplier?”

“You should have a backup,” Wequie agrees quickly. “At least three, but you need a consistent channel of a lot of blood and if you have a lucrative deal with a main source, that gets rid of a lot of problems down the line.”

“It also makes room for them should one of our enemies locate her or learn our routes.”

“But that’s the best part! She’s human with a genuine donor business,” Wequie reminds, eyes sparkling. “Play this well behind closed doors and in the open, you can make it look like you’re stealing from a very silly and blind human.”

His plot showcases itself immediately and quickly erases the biggest problems, if not all of them.

If her operation was set up in multiple locations, then that meant more places to ‘steal’ blood from without building a trackable pattern, and if she played into the charade as well, trying to tighten security, then no harm would come to her.

“This is a brilliant plan, Wequie,” I praise, and he immediately flushes.

“Thanks,” he mumbles as she shifts about. “But it’ll be on you to convince her. I can only provide an introduction.”

I nod, mind churning. I hadn’t planned to deal in negotiations tonight, but I could manage.

“Not like that,” Wequie scolds quickly, and I freeze. “She hates serious people, and she does not stand for lies. Go in, be honest and chill, like you were making a deal with me, and you’ll be fine.”

I nod despite the sudden nerves that warble inside of me.

I could do ‘chill’ most likely, but this was an odd enough setting and I did not want to disturb.

“We’ll give them time to come up for air,” Wequie soothes with a chuckle, no doubt spotting or sensing my silent fretting. “In the meantime, I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour if you let me watch.”

I frown, confusion tugging my brows down until a throat clears beside us.

My head snaps up and I suck in a very audible breath when I spot Aias.

Aias, standing right in front of us with one of his angry frowns and entirely black silks.

I stare up at him, jaw lax, mouth hanging wide open and his frown deepens as he stares back at me.

“Has the offer to join been retracted?” He asks.

I can not find my words. They disappear from my mind and my grasp as if they have never existed at all, leaving me a gawking fool as warmth spills into my chest.

It leaks from my heart, right from the crack he’d put there earlier and then it is pouring out unabashed until I can hardly sit still.

My lips split apart and I am on my feet and in his arms before I can stop myself.

I wrap my arms around his neck, squeezing tight and slow as it comes, Aias soon hugs me back.

When I pull back, Aias’ frown has almost disappeared entirely, but his glare is no less lethal as it darts between mine.

He blames me for his presence. I can’t help but laugh.

“Stop that,” he scolds, even as he tugs me closer, his eyes never once straying from my lips.

I grin at him, desperate to jump back into his arms. “I can’t.”

Maybe Wequie was right.

Maybe Aias was struggling too, not because it was wrong to be with me, a vampire, or he felt like he was betraying his kind by doing so, or any of the other awful things I thought up at night.

Maybe Aias was struggling, but because maybe just maybe, he liked me as much as I liked him, and it had nothing to do with how much our bodies liked each other.

Maybe Aias liked me, and maybe that could be enough.

———————-

AWWW Malcolmmmmm my sweetie pieeeeee

Thoughts??????????

Thoughts on tthe opening scene??? Thoughts on malcolm and wequie finally making a reappearance???

I love lvoe loveee this chapter, especially after the chapters before, it is such a satifysing build up from before if I do say so myself

next chapter, yall finna gag.

Should come sooner than before, but again, thank you all for being so patient with me!

Remember to vote and comment if you enjoyed! 

Until next time,
Byeeeeeeeeee Humanssssssssssss