Archive of Our Own

Rook burst through the doors of her chambers, shedding her filthy armour as she stumbled across the floor. She could still smell that place. It saturated her clothes and skin. Cold and hollow. Her body shook violently. Freezing sweat dried on her skin and her breath still came in hungry bursts that would not be steadied.

She braced herself on the back of the chaise and tried to ground herself with the familiar feel of the fabric under her hands. The Lighthouse quieted around her. Rook tried to steady herself but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Solas’ prison had woven into her bones. It lingered inside her as a mottled, muted barrage of half-memories laced with guilt, fictions, and misplaced fears. A nightmare too stubborn to fade even in the warmth of morning.

~*~

“I cannot believe we found you,”

Rook’s heart leapt.

Lucanis stood in the doorway looking displaced, as if he had just woken from his own dream. The weeks had taken a toll on him. He was listless and aged with fatigue. Rook’s heart ached for him as she tried to compose herself.

She started to turn to go to him but Lucanis raised his hand to stay her. He turned, closed the door, and approached her slowly as if she might disappear again.

“I’m a little surprised myself, honestly,” Rook said, attempting a hint of humour as she desperately tried to appear like herself. Lucanis, of course, didn’t miss a thing. He gathered her hands in his and held them to his chest as they trembled.

Rook gave up. Her ears drooped and she collapsed into him. He held her firmly, burying his face in her neck. Her legs suddenly gave out, but he was ready. Lucanis caught her weight and sank to his knees with her.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he murmured into her skin. The words fell from his lips unfiltered and unreserved. Relief wasn’t the right word. His warm brown eyes brimmed with devotion and an almost delirious sense of peace. Reverence. As if nothing else but this moment had ever, or would ever, exist. Just her. His beautiful Rook. She had come back to him. Even Spite had fallen silent, touching her hair with unseen hands.

Meanwhile, Rook struggled to quell the cruel uncertainty that now coloured her world. The echoes of the Fade prison still haunted her mind’s peripheries and made her question every thought and feeling that passed through her.

Rook blinked, looking up, trying to form the words she needed as she studied Lucanis’ beautiful, tired eyes.

“I—I didn’t think I’d ever get out of there,” she started. Lucanis gently lifted a strand of her hair over her peaked ears. The hint of tears started to sting the back of Rook’s eyes.

“How do I know if I really did?” she uttered, trying to control the tremor in her voice. “This could be more of the Fade.”

Lucanis’ eyes set with conviction as he held her face in both hands. He brushed a tear from Rook’s cheek and passed his other thumb over her trembling lips. His touch was mercifully warm and grounding. Rook almost sobbed into it.

“You’re here,” he whispered, leaning in to softly place his lips over hers in a gentle kiss. Another tear. He pressed his forehead to hers with a sigh. “You’re really here.”

Rook was beginning to let herself believe. She let his closeness wash over her. His breath. Warm and even on her skin. His scent. Worn Crow leathers, dark coffee, hearth soot, woven rucksacks and dried herbs from the pantry, and just a hint of crisp Antivan clove from his soap. Perfect.

“Promise?” she exhaled, still trembling. Lucanis opened his eyes, leaned back, and held her gaze firmly.

“I swear,” he uttered, enunciating carefully and pouring his conviction into her until he saw a hint of relief. He squeezed her hands.

“Feel the warmth of my touch,” he murmured. “Hear the sound of my voice,”

Rook obeyed, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths. Lucanis kissed her again, passing his hands over her arms, shoulders, then back to her face. She adored the way he passively traced the shape of her ears as they twitched with the ebb and flow of her emotions.

“Just…don’t leave?” she whispered, her hands coming up to join his.

“Never,” he declared.

Lucanis stood them both up and guided Rook to lie back on the chaise. Slowly, he sank down over her and pressed another kiss to her lips with a rich sigh. The warmth and weight of his body was a merciful balm. Rook kissed him back, matching his languid pace. His movements were slow and achingly gentle.

Smokey black and violet wings sprang from back and encircled their bodies. Spite had joined them, bringing the same reverence as his host with the addition of a fierce possessiveness.

“Rook, you are still trembling,” Lucanis murmured, concern etched into his brow. He was right. “Mierda. What am I doing? Come.” he sat her up and brushed her hair back from her face. The wings dissipated into a few curling wisps of black smoke.

“You must rest,” he murmured, his lips still close to hers. “I will draw you a bath.”
He said as he began to rise from the chaise. Rook caught his arm, ears drooping with alarm.

“...I will draw us a bath. I will be only a moment,” he reassured, squeezing her hand.

He had a point. Rook was still covered in layers of dried blood, sweat, and ash.

True to his word, Lucanis reappeared as Rook heard water filling the great copper tub in the adjacent room. She moved to stand, but found her legs rubbery and weak. Once she had let her body relax the fight in her bones had subsided, replaced with alarmingly heavy limbs.

“It’s the shock wearing off,” Lucanis interjected into her thoughts, seeing the dismay in Rook’s eyes. “It will pass. Try to relax,” the First Talon sank to his knees before her.

‘No one from house Dellamorte kneels.’

Caterina’s voice echoed in Rook's memory as she watched Lucanis take her hand, gently pull off her glove, and let it fall to the floor.

His eyes continued to stare at her as if she might disappear again if he looked away. He set her hand back into her lap, then took the other and removed her second glove just the same way. He watched her carefully, making certain every move he made still left her feeling safe. Her boots were next. Then her stockings. Her belts. Her over-tunic. Her shirt.

Lucanis paused as he took in the angry purple welts and red lacerations still trying to heal themselves across her body. He growled through his nose, low and wrathful, as he studied her injuries.

“I will not let him hurt you again,” Lucanis whispered with a deadly edge. Rook tried to smile and keep her hand steady as she reached for his face. He met her halfway. The familiar feeling of his beard slightly rough against her palm, the shape of his cheekbone, the warmth of his olive skin; it was all a balm.

After a moment of relishing her touch, Lucanis leaned forward and pressed his head to her stomach. He placed a few gentle kisses over some of the welts that had appeared, his hawklike nose caressing her skin. Rook ran her fingers through his black hair affectionately. With a deep breath, he looked up into her eyes again before returning to his task.

Each time Lucanis placed his hands on an article of clothing he looked to Rook for permission. Each time she nodded.

While this wasn’t exactly the way she had imagined Lucanis taking off her clothes for the first time (and she had certainly imagined it), she appreciated it dearly. If she had been left to her own devices today, she’d have simply collapsed on the chaise—shaking, freezing, filthy, and fixating on the Fade until exhaustion took her.

At this thought, Rook’s chest ached with gratitude. She tried to convey as much with her eyes each time he looked up at her.

Lucanis was concentrating intensely by the time he gently lifted her hips to remove her smalls. Perhaps he shared her thoughts about undressing her for the first time. Perhaps Spite was acting up. Lucanis paused.

“Lucanis?” Rook murmured through the lingering tremors. He looked up with an apology etched into his brow and rose to his knees.

“I’m sorry, Rook. Seeing you—all of you—like this…” he shook his head, resting against her own “...it is both a gift and a trial,”

“How so?”

“Maker’s breath, you are so beautiful. But seeing all the harm that has come to you because of my mistake—"

“—He HURT. OUR. ROOK! The Dread Wolf. He will BLEED. His heart on our KNIFE!” Rook startled as Spite cut in with a flash of violet across Lucanis’ eyes. She forgot the way Spite had no awareness of his own volume when he spoke through Lucanis.

“Spite!” Lucanis hissed, blinking back into the room. “This is not the time,”

“It’s alright, Spite,” Rook interjected gently “I would feel the same way if it had been Lucanis in my place.” Spite ebbed back into the recesses of Lucanis’ mind with a sense of validation. He liked when Rook addressed him directly.

Lucanis pressed his head against Rook’s stomach again. He drew a deep breath before looking back up into her eyes with mirth. ‘How does she always do that?’ he thought, finally slipping Rook’s smalls from her hips.

“Let’s get you into that bath,” he murmured, stepping back and removing his own boots.

It was Rook’s turn to try to concentrate on something else as Lucanis deftly unbuttoned his waistcoat, tossed it aside, and pulled his shirt over his head.

Maker, he was beautiful. Old and new scars illustrated stories all over his body, from his collarbone all the way down to the sapid, sloped lines of his pelvis. He unbuckled his belt and stepped from his trousers and smalls. Rook would’ve been beside herself with girlish elation if it weren’t for the sorry state she found herself in at that moment. She made a mental note to make it up to herself—and to Lucanis—as soon as she could possibly manage.

The First Talon returned to her side, slipped his arms beneath her, and lifted her to his chest. He stepped over to the steaming water and placed her gently on the seated side of the copper bath before stepping in behind her. Rook hissed as the warm water lapped at her various injuries.

“I added one of Bellara’s elfroot oils. It should help soon,” Lucanis said, slipping into the water behind her, their naked bodies pressed together in the warm, fragrant water.

Lucanis wrapped his arms around Rook and buried his nose in the crook between her neck and shoulder. She still trembled. He held her close, one hand grasped her shoulder the other steadied her hip. He held her like that against his chest until the shaking finally started to subside.

“Breathe, mi amor,” he whispered into her skin, demonstrating for her. Rook obeyed, trying her best to match him as his chest rose and fell against her back. She started to feel lightheaded.

“I feel a bit faint,” Rook murmured as the tremors finally faded. Lucanis nodded against her and loosened his embrace.

“The adrenaline is wearing off. It happened to me after my first few contracts. Your strength will return soon. Rest,” His voice; rich, deep, and hushed, soothed her from the base of her skull all the way to her toes.

Lucanis then began gently washing her skin. The water was cloudy with the cleansing salts and the herbs he’d spoken of. It smelled divine. Slowly, the evidence of her time in Solas’ prison began to dissolve under Lucanis’ touch.

He then carefully shifted to one side and guided Rook to lean back against his thigh. He placed one hand between her breasts and held the back of her neck with the other, lowering her to the surface of the water. Rook let him guide her, happily leaning into his touch. When she was situated against him, he combed his fingers through her hair. He smiled as Rook closed her eyes and relaxed into his care. The Demon of Vyrantium had a breathtakingly gentle touch when he wanted.

Lucanis washed all traces of the Fade from her skin with the same care and measured movements she had seen him employ hundreds of times when he maintained his daggers. His touch was chaste but achingly tender. He massaged the tension from her neck and encouraged the muscles of her arms and legs to reclaim their strength as he worked. He even gently wiped the dried specks of blood from her brows and lashes with his thumb. A few whispered phrases of Antivan escaped his lips as he worked. Rook only managed to catch a few words here and there.

“Beautiful”, “Touch”, “Maker”, “Lost”, “Care”, “Hold”.

“You are breathtaking, mi amor. So bold. So fearless,” he said, slipping back into Common.

“I was afraid today,” Rook said simply as she sat up to face him, meeting his eyes with gratitude. Her muscles were slowly returning to a normal if not tired state.

“And yet you kept fighting,” he smiled softly. “That is where your fire lies.”

“You kept fighting too. You never stopped searching,” Rook beamed up at him. He leaned down to brush his lips against hers.

“For you? Always,” he whispered against her. “I will always find you, tesora.” They shared another kiss. Languid and tender.

“How are you feeling?” Lucanis asked, breaking the kiss with soft eyes and knitted brows.

“Better,” Rook smiled. “I rather like you fussing over me a bit,”

It was Lucanis’ turn to smile.
“As do I. You sound more like yourself,”

“I wish I felt more like myself,” Rook’s eyes drifted as she searched for the right words. “So much has happened. I don’t know how to feel.”

Lucanis didn’t hesitate. He sat her up in his lap, cupped her face, and gently coaxed her gaze back to him.

“I do,” he spoke low with all the conviction he could move from his heart to his eyes. “I know exactly how to feel.”

Rook lit up with affection. This time when he kissed her, his lips moved slowly from a brush to a passionate exploration. Lucanis let his hands roam Rook’s body as they pleased. He layered sinful, open-mouthed kisses all along her jaw. Rook arched her back, letting him hold her. The kisses moved to her throat as he followed her delicate Vallaslin down between her breasts and all the way to her navel, leaving gooseflesh in his wake.

“I did not know your Vallaslin extended so far,” he purred between kisses. Rook blushed as he continued. “I adore finding all the beautiful details about you I could not access in my dreams.”

“So there have been dreams,” Rook teased with a coy smile. Lucanis sat her up against him once more with sober lust.

“Oh, Maker, yes,” he murmured across her lips.

Rook sighed into him. Her stomach suddenly flipped as she brushed against his distinct arousal. Lucanis sucked in a breath that didn’t seem to return, instead pouring the sensation into words.

“They came when I saw you. When I wanted you. When I was afraid to want you. But nothing could ever compare to the real thing. You are more lovely than I could ever have imagined,” he rambled as his hands began to roam once more.

Rook suddenly flinched. Lucanis froze and looked down where his hand had passed over a large welt on her ribs, still hot with the work of the Elfroot.

“Rook! I’m so sorry. I should not…we should—,”

“Stop,” she cut him off with a kiss. “I want this. I want you. More than anything.” she said firmly.

“We have time,” he returned, breathless. “To bed now. You need to rest. I will stay with you if you wish,”

Rook pressed her forehead to his and nodded with a sigh.

“I do,” she whispered.

“Good,” he said, kissing her again.

To call Lucanis a ‘good kisser’ would be a punishable understatement. He was intoxicating. Rook took delicious notes in the back of her mind detailing the way his tongue, hot and dexterous as his deadly hands, flicked or lapped against her own. How he teased her mouth open, and slid gently along her lips in languid laps as his jaw led her between waves of firm and soft reverence to their shared breath.

“How do you expect me to sleep now?” Rook breathed, hardly able to open her eyes. Lucanis chuckled softly.

“I do not think your body will give you much of a choice. Look at you, mi amor. You are exhausted. And I will be here to watch over you. Come.”

Lucanis scooped her up and stood, letting the water rush down their bodies for a moment, then stepped from the tub as Rook let her head fall against the crook of his neck. He was right. She was exhausted despite the warmth of arousal that still radiated from her abdomen all the way down her rubbery legs.

Lucanis crossed the room and gently set Rook down on the quilt that lay across the bench at the foot of her bed.

He had lost count of the number of times he had found Rook wrapped tightly in that same quilt as she wandered the Lighthouse long after the others had retired. He always relished the moments when he would emerge from the pantry to find her sitting in the kitchen, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea or coffee (depending on the hour), the quilt wrapped around her shoulders.

Now, he had the pleasure of wrapping her in it himself, before lifting her again and depositing her onto the bed.

“I will be right back,” he murmured in her ear as he slipped his arms out from under her. He briskly toweled himself off with his discarded shirt before returning to the bed with a small healing potion he had retrieved from his trousers. Rook smiled. He had thought of everything.

Still very much nude, Lucanis knelt on the covers next to her, uncorked the small bottle with his teeth, and leaned in, tipping the liquid against Rook’s lips. She didn’t bother trying to school her wandering eyes or hide the heated restlessness in them as she took him in. His olive skin was still damp. His abdomen flexed as he leaned back to set the empty bottle down on the side table. The notion that she had the privilege of seeing this side of the infamous Demon of Vyrantium warmed her from heart to her aching core. This deadly master assassin, so vulnerable and tender at her side.

“You are going to make me blush,” Lucanis murmured with a smirk as he took another blanket from the bottom of the bed and covered them both under it.

“I didn’t know you were capable of it,” Rook teased. That earned her a full grin from him as he shifted closer. Lucanis looked as if he were about to deliver a counter-quip when Spite suddenly flashed into his eyes.

“NO! TAKE HER NOW! Soft. Warm. WE. WANT!" The spirit’s voice was uncharacteristically taut.

Lucanis growled, flinching and fisting the blanket as he returned to her.

“I am sorry, mi amor,” he said, focusing on Rook once more. An exhausted mask of guilt had coloured his expression as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Smells like ELFROOT. Morning DEW. and CUNT.” Spite suddenly surfaced again with an air of curiosity.

“Spite, that is enough,” Lucanis growled, turning away from Rook as if to intercept a blade.

“I want to TOUCH!”

“That is not how this works!”

“Lucanis,” Rook’s voice permeated the exchange. Lucanis took control again, falling onto his back and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Rook. Forgive me. Spite is…restless. I have not—I have not made the time to explain to him…” he struggled to find the words as he rolled to face her again. She was so beautiful.

“May I speak to him? I think I can help,” She asked with that unique blend of quiet compassion and firm authority that made her such a wonderful leader.

“Rook…” Lucanis began, fear seeping into his features. “Spite does not understand sexual desire the way we do. He is excited by the chase, but the physical aspect, the connection, may be…beyond him,” even as he spoke, Lucanis couldn’t help his hands from moving to caress Rook’s face and ear. She considered his words for a moment.

“I understand. I won’t be long,” she reassured, placing her hand over his.

After a moment, he nodded. One blink took his eyes from that deep, velvety brown to the violet blaze. His mouth set with that familiar grin that was not his own.

“Pretty…Soft, and BOLD!” the spirit dug into the flesh of her hips with Lucanis’ fingers. Rook seized his wrist firmly and gave him a stern look.

“Spite. Listen to me very carefully. Let Lucanis hear too,” Rook commanded in an even tone. The grin faded from his face, but the violet eyes remained attentive.

“Intimacy is…sacred…to physical beings, do you understand? It is a private thing, yet a vulnerable act between partners all at once. You share a body with my partner. You may be present. You may observe. But Lucanis must be the one in control. If you break this contract you will be excluded entirely. Are we in agreement?”

The spirit tilted Lucanis’ head, considering. Another exchange between the two seemed to be taking place as his expression slowly shifted. Eventually, his grin returned to Lucanis’ mouth.

“YES. We are AGREED!” he bellowed enthusiastically. A second later, Lucanis’ warm brown eyes returned to her, blinking into place.

“How do you do that?” he demanded softly with genuine bemusement. His hand traveled back up her body to her face.

“Do what?”

“Get him to listen to you like that,” he brushed some stray wet strands of hair from her cheek.

“Perhaps it’s because I take him seriously,” she replied, a little smug. “Besides, he is still a part of you. I think maybe I’ve made my way under his skin along with yours.” she smiled thoughtfully.

“Rook. You are…impossible,” She was right.

“But in a good way?”

Lucanis rose to his knees, looking down into her eyes as he raked his hands through her hair before bending down to capture her mouth again.

“It’s what I love about you,” he purred against her. He cupped the back of her neck to deliver another molten kiss. He started slowly, his mouth opening hers gently, his tongue exploring. He grew bolder, nipping her bottom lip and slipping his tongue inside to taste her own. His breath came shorter through his nose as he started to lose himself, sealing his mouth to hers as she melted against him.

“Lucanis,” Rook whispered between breaths. Then, just as he had before, he slowed his movements and ended the kiss as gently as it had begun.
“Sleep, mi amor. We have time,” he breathed. “I am not leaving your side.”

Rook’s internal conflict was short-lived as the potion she had taken started to take effect. The First Talon was right; she was exhausted. Lucanis wrapped his arms and legs around her, encircling her completely. It reminded her of the way he had clung to her when he and the others had pulled her from the Fade prison. He and Spite had clutched her so hard, he had started to tremble on the eluvian room floor trying not to hurt her without letting her go. This embrace said all the same things but with a different kind of strength. One rooted in a quiet sort of determination and a long held promise.

The last thing Rook recalled before her heavy eyes closed was Lucanis’ voice. He murmured a few more phrases in Antivan with a low, gravelly tone while his thumbs caressed her skin.

~*~

Rook wasn’t sure what time it was when she woke. It always felt like either dusk or dawn in this place. Her hair was nearly dry. A few hours must’ve passed. Lucanis had been true to his word. He had not moved an inch. Rook reveled in the totality of his embrace. Not wanting to wake him, she turned her head as gently as she could manage. A smile bloomed across her face at what she saw.

Lucanis was, indeed, asleep. His face was slack and peaceful in a way she had never seen before. How long had it been since he had properly slept? Especially since her absence. His dark eyelashes rested beautifully against his olive skin. His brow and jaw were relaxed. His chest and shoulders rose and fell slowly. The sight nearly brought her to tears. Something quietly fell into place in her chest.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Though she had never said it out loud until now, Rook had known her heart since that day at the Grande Markets in Treviso.

Rook spent a few more minutes enjoying the precious moment she had woken up to.

She admired Lucanis so much. Since the very beginning. The way he listened. The way he observed the others’ habits, tastes, dispositions, talents, and cues. He was quietly attentive and mindful in a way she had never known anyone before. He put everyone at ease eventually, matching their energy and meeting them where their own interests and social variations lay. He was curious about what he didn’t know and truthful with himself about what he did in a way that only a genuinely secure man could be. The way he was so disciplined and deadly on the battlefield didn’t need to be carried over into every corner of his life. He read all of Bellara’s book recommendations, took Neve’s investigative advice, adapted his fighting style to complement Harding’s ranged skills, and engaged with the professor’s academic enthusiasm with quiet ease.

He sought excellence in everything he did without punishing himself with the burden of perfection. This was clearly something that had been self-taught given the circumstances of his title’s inheritance. How did someone who had been groomed and honed to such a sharp edge his whole life still be so gentle. So thoughtful.

Rook felt the threat of tears behind her eyes as she turned the thought over in her mind. She leaned forward to brush back some dark hair from his brow and place a chaste kiss to his lips.

He stirred and blinked lazily for a moment before a smile spread across his lips.

“Good morning, mi amor,” he spoke low, his voice thick with sleep. His eyes darted lovingly over her face, taking her in like a sunrise.

“Good morning, ma vhenan,” Rook whispered. The endearment slipped out organically, but she didn’t regret it. In fact, her smile widened as she watched Lucanis process her words. His eyes shifted from sleepy and wistful to sober and attentive.

“Ma vhenan,” he repeated, testing the phrase on his tongue.
“It means—” she started.
“—my heart, yes,” Lucanis rose from his elbow to his hand and loomed over her with a sudden intensity that made her heart skip.

“I used to dream of hearing those words from your lips,” he spoke low, his gravel voice becoming more daring. Some of his hair had fallen over his face and shoulders. Rook smiled and reached up to smooth it back in place but froze when Lucanis caught her wrist playfully.

She had barely opened her mouth to comment when his lips crashed into hers like white-capped waves against the cliffs of Rialto. He pinned her wrist against the pillow next to her and groaned sinfully into her mouth. Such a noise from Lucanis Dellamorte sent fierce shivers from her middle all the way down her legs. Before the Fade, on lonely nights, she had found herself trying to imagine such sounds from his mouth. None of it came close to the real thing.

Rook instantly wanted more. She vowed to draw so much more out of him. She would bring him to his knees. She would take as much as he could give and return it ten times over.

“Vhenan,” she said again.

Lucanis vaulted on top of her, tossing the blanket aside, and deepening the kiss even more. She raked her fingers through his hair, tugging just a little. Another deep growl rumbled in his chest.

“Rook, I—Maker, what have you done to me? I am undone,” he uttered between kisses.

“I haven’t even started,” she said smoothly, rutting up against him. He was hard and thick against her thighs. He broke the kiss with a gasp.

“Rook. Please, you are still healing. You must—I must not—” he gulped back another rumbling groan and grasped at the sheets. “Tell me to stop. Rook, I—,” a purple haze started playing at the corners of his eyes.

“Lucanis, look at me,” Rook demanded softly. He did. “I’m alright. Thanks to you,” she said. “Look.”

She was right. He followed her gaze down, casting his eyes over her body. The elfroot, potion, and sleep had done its work well.

His pupils were blown wide with lust but he still hesitated. Uncertainty bound him. He collapsed against her to catch his breath. Rook would be lying if she said she did not love this.

“It has been so long—and now, with Spite—I, I do not want to hurt you.” he pleaded with himself just as much as with her.

“You won’t,” Rook whispered. “Remember my talk with Spite last night. I trust you. Both of you. I’ll tell you if something feels wrong. And you will do the same,”

His restraint now held by a thread. He raised himself above her once more and pressed his forehead to hers.

“Swear to me,” he breathed against her mouth. He was quivering.

“I swear,” she returned with a gentle kiss.

With that, the last vestiges of his control dissolved in the heat between them. His mouth captured hers, fitful and breathy. He parted her lips and plunged his tongue into her, eliciting a surprised but pleasant moan from the elf.

“Maker’s breath. I have wanted you since I first saw you. Your body, your heart, your soul. Next to me… Holding me… Torturing me… Déjame probar tu luz. Préndeme fuego, mi amor,” he panted between kisses as he explored her mouth and rutted his hips against her. [Let me taste your fire. Set me ablaze, my love.]

Lucanis continued to stumble between Common and Antivan, desperate to say everything he felt and everything he had been feeling. To expel it from his chest and into the world. Her world. Her skin. Her mouth. Make her hear how loud his soul had been screaming such words as he claimed her with his body.

His heart pounded, his chest and core hot with desire that had been tamped down for far too long. Bound by obligation, fear, uncertainty, and so much guilt—now feverishly tossed aside in her warmth and trust.

Lucanis’ hands moved behind her neck and the small of her back, crushing her to him as if there was any space left between them to close.

Rook arched her back to meet him, raking her fingers through his hair and making sure to glide over his length with her abdomen. This elicited another gravelly moan from the First Talon’s throat that sent shockwaves of pleasure through Rook’s limbs.

“Maker’s charred body, Rook,” he choked out. “If you keep that up I do not stand a chance.”

“It’s not a competition…” she purred “...and I’m in no hurry.” Her words spilled over into him like oil over fire.

He captured her mouth again fiercely, weaving his fingers up into her hair. Rook writhed beneath him, trying to ease the ache between her legs. He moaned into her mouth and broke away to deliver a series of kisses and love bites from her jaw down her throat, huffing through more indistinguishable Antivan against her skin as he went.

“Diosas, tú serás mi perdición,” [Gods, you will be the death of me].

When he found Rook’s rapid pulse, he lingered there with some gentler gestures from his tongue, teeth, and lips. Small noises started to escape Rook’s throat. He could feel the evidence of her arousal slick against his thigh as her legs squirmed.

Spite stirred, his keen senses seeping into Lucanis’ mind. Rook smelled divine. Heady, musky, and briney sweetness like whipped ocean winds. All this, muddled with their combined breath and sweat, started to saturate his mind and body with wild need. He sat them both up abruptly.

“Rook,” he said as he slowed and stroked her back. “Look at me.”

She did. Her hazel eyes were bright with desire and she was flushed from her chest up to her ears that peaked out from her tousled hair.

“Maker, you are beautiful,” he murmured, drunk with lust. “I must taste you. Please,”

Rook smiled and lay back against the bed, keeping her pelvis pressed up against him. Lucanis huffed with a beat of carnal pride; a sentiment Spite shared enthusiastically as the assassin lowered himself between her thighs. He lifted her hips and gently sealed his mouth over her sex, applying a small amount of suction as his tongue glided to sweep deftly between her folds. Lucanis moaned into her, his eyes rolling back as he finally tasted her.

Rook gasped at a higher pitch than she had anticipated, arching her back and grasping at the sheets. Lucanis lavished her swollen sex, sinfully enthusiastic. He buried himself to his nose, sucking and groaning out stifled breaths. Rook mewled as she helplessly rutted against him. His beard offered a delightful grazing sensation that only added to her pleasure. Lucanis lapped at her desperately. His mouth worked her clit expertly. He swirled his tongue from each side up to the tight bud before darting inside of her for more. He gently sucked at the tiny bundle of nerves and pressed down gently just below.

Her taste. Her noises. Her encouragement. It all nearly threw him to the brink of orgasm and he had to pause his machinations just to come back from the edge.

‘MORE!’ Spite spurred him on inside his mind. ‘She unravels for US. WE WANT. Soft, pink flower. Salty sweet nectar! MORE!’

For once, Lucanis couldn’t agree more.

“Rook,” he murmured into her slick heat “Tú eres ambrosía. [You are ambrosia]. “Maker…Que me muera de hambre si no vuelvo a beber de ti.” [May I starve should I never drink of you again].

Rook’s breath quickened as his deep voice vibrated against her. She pulsed and writhed in his grasp with sweet abandon, whimpering and moaning at his mercy.

Lucanis took his time. He slid his arms beneath her hips and adjusted his angle as he continued to indulge greedily. Rook gasped as he dragged his tongue along her opening again and again before rolling it over her clit. He continued to work there slowly, gently nudging the underside with just the tip of his tongue. Her mouth fell open.

“Lucanis!”

It was loud, lewd, breathless, and it struck both Lucanis and Spite with a sudden jolt of delicious depravity. Something between a shout and a whine pitched from his mouth and into Rook’s core. He had to withdraw for a moment to stop from spilling himself right there onto the bedspread. He panted against her, rolling his forehead over her abdomen. Rook’s hands instantly found their way down to rake her fingers through his hair.

Lucanis smiled slyly as he seized her hands and fixed them underneath her hips to replace his own.

“Patience, mi amor. I am not finished with you,” he panted against her trembling thigh before diving back in. His tongue and lips now worked her with savage precision, moving between languid strokes and twinges of suction or flickering passes that made her spasm uncontrollably. His groans of approval reverberated into her hot core, and his devastating attention to detail soon had Rook begging for release.

With Rook’s hands trapped beneath her hips, Lucanis let his own hands wander over her body while he languished her cunt with his mouth. When Rook arched her back, he reached up and pressed her back down with one long stroke from her throat to her navel. When she rutted up against him, he caressed the indents of her hips with his thumbs to accommodate the angle she craved. When she held her breath, he passed his nimble fingers over her lips, reminding her to breathe.

“Vhenan!” Rook gasped as he started to massage along the shape of her entrance with those same fingers.

One. then two. He pressed them just inside her, gently caressing and exploring her soft heat with shallow, circling strokes. Lucanis smiled with pride as Spite watched, transfixed, behind his eyes. The assassin lifted his head to give him a better view.

‘Watch how she reacts to my smallest movements. The pace. The pressure. Listen to her breathe. Feel her pulse shift and race. These are the details that really matter. Memorize them. Cherish them. Do you see?’ he explained, rising up along Rook’s body to place more languid kisses on her neck.

‘Yes…YES! We SHOW OUR ROOK. Adore with TOUCH.’ the demon blazed in his mind.

Lucanis slowly buried his middle and ring fingers into her soft heat with a shuddering breath. He watched her from behind his dark lashes. Her eyes were glassy, her cheeks were flushed, her hair was dishevelled, and her ears strained flat against her head with spastic concentration.

“Perfecta,” he breathed across her neck. “Spite is enraptured too. Here you are, unraveling for me. For us. Healing us still. Your voice, your taste…the way you move for me,” Lucanis deftly curled his fingers, sinking deeper into her with those last words. Rook instantly released a sinful moan and rutted up against his hand. He met her there, attending to her clit with the base of his palm. This time he swallowed her moan with his mouth exchanging it for a growl as she nipped and sucked his bottom lip.

Rook’s enthusiasm easily spurred him on toward more feral inclinations.

Lucanis slunk back down along her body, grasped her leg, and hooked it over his shoulder to grant himself more purchase. His nimble tongue explored her deeper, beckoning for her release; teasing her, coaxing her, until she was panting with incoherent curses. She pulsed against his mouth in fluttered patterns that quickly became erratic. Spite started to unwittingly mirror her breaths.

Lucanis gripped her harder and began ravishing her with a sudden, steady rhythm against her entrance and the underside of her clit. He had found and locked onto it—just as he could pinpoint the footsteps of a target or the tempo of a sparing match. He worked Rook into that perfect peak of pleasure so quickly she saw stars in the corners of her vision.

“Maker’s breath!” Rook couldn’t find any more words. She simply surrendered to the way her body responded to his devoted attention. Her ears rang as she cried out and spasmed in Lucanis’s firm grasp.

This time, Lucanis did spill himself fully with a guttural moan as he worked her through her orgasm. He savoured every subtle change in her taste and twitch of her muscles as his own body spasmed and surged. Spite nearly surfaced fully, he was so keen to watch Rook unravel in their arms.

When Rook finally started to come down from her high, Lucanis released her, gasping. Lowering her gently, he huffed out a few more trembling breaths as he watched the last of his cum spurt in shuddering bursts that mirrored Rook’s own pulsating sex.

“Mierda,” he panted across her stomach. “Rook, you have not even touched me, and I am undone.”

Rook smiled, still trying to catch her breath. She lay completely limp beneath him, eyes closed in ecstasy. After a moment, Lucanis rose above her and kissed up her body, tracing her Vallaslin lovingly with his nose and lips.

When his forehead was flush with hers, he whispered into her still panting mouth.

“Open your eyes,”

She did.

“Now, taste.”

Lucanis delivered a long, slow kiss that spoke volumes. A testament to how much he was enjoying himself. Enjoying her. She tasted herself coating his mouth and beard.

Lucanis Dellamorte. The Mage Killer. The Demon of Vyrantium. The First Talon of the Antivan Crows. Drunk on her and desperate to share. His sigh ripened into a groan that made her legs stiffen with renewed lust.

His hands began to travel her body again. This time his grip was firmer. His fingers dug into her soft skin as they passed over her breasts and lingered over her rosy nipples. Rook shivered and arched up into his touch. Lucanis responded by rutting his hips against her thighs as his lips found her pulse. He was already hard again.

Suddenly Lucanis paused to study her face with renewed fascination. The wistful high in his eyes had slipped into uncertainty in the corner of his mouth. His head tilted as if trying to find something in his periphery. His eyes were far away and shone a little too bright. His fingers dug into her skin a little too hard, as if gripping the bedsheets. Rook stilled.

“Lucanis?” she whispered, cautiously reaching for his cheek.

Suddenly his eyes went wide and he threw himself away from Rook with a roar of outrage.

“SPITE!” he shouted. “You will NOT touch her again!”

“SMELLS like. Home,” the demon almost pouted. “Lucanis TEACHES. I SEE ROOK. I FEEL ROOK. The door OPENED. NO LOCKS.”

“We had an agreement!” Lucanis shouted, throwing his legs over the side of the bed.

“NO! Lucanis BRAKES our agreement!”

“Spite,” Rook rose to her knees and threw her arms around Lucanis’ seething body. His shoulders rose and fell rapidly. Her lips found the spot 3behind his ear, breasts pressed against his back.

“Spite. You weren’t trying to take over, were you?” she murmured low.

“NO! Lucanis opened THE DOOR!”

“What door?” she coaxed.

“YES! THE DOOR! He TEACHES. He TIRES. WEAK. He LIES to us!”

“I see,” Rook paused. “Lucanis is showing you but not letting you try. He is still afraid you’ll hurt me.”

“YES! Rook says SHE TRUSTS. TRUST US!” Lucanis’ hands were white at the knuckles.

Rook turned Lucanis’ head to face her. Spite’s violet eyes shone there, dulled with bitter guilt.

“I did say that,” she said softly. “And I meant it. Lucanis? Come back to me, vhenan,”

“Rook, I am so sorry. I—” Lucanis began. Rook gently placed her fingers against his lips.

“It’s alright,” she whispered. “I said I trust you. Both of you. I swore I would tell you if something didn’t feel right. Nothing has changed. He just startled me,” Rook finished, letting her hand drop from his lips to his chest. Lucanis grasped her hand in return.

“I suppose…he startled me as well,” he said after a moment. “Let’s try this again. With trust,” Lucanis relented, his eyes darkening once more.

“What was it you said when we first met?” Rook smiled slyly as she drew him back onto the bed. “ ‘It’s complicated’?”

“You do have a way of…uncomplicating things, mi amor,”

“Is that your attempt at a more flattering way of saying that I think in straight lines?” she teased. Lucanis responded by pinning her wrists above her head and nudging her chin up with his nose to find her pulse.

“No,” he whispered. “That is my way of saying you are my guiding star. You shine. I follow. Even now, you put me—us—back together with your patience,” he crooned into her neck. “your intuition,” he grazed her earlobe with his teeth. “your voice,” He shifted fully over her and whispered against her mouth “your touch...”

Lucanis kissed her again, slowly, as black and indigo wings sprang from his back and wrapped around them both protectively. Rook shivered with the sensation as she returned the kiss with renewed devotion. Lucanis groaned, tightening his grip on her wrists.

Rook issued a silent challenge in response by biting Lucanis’ lip, hard. He released a gravel chuckle before reaching down to slip two fingers back into her with no zero forewarning. Rook gasped sweetly, eyes squeezing shut and toes curling.

Lucanis worked her achingly slowly, aware that she was still overstimulated. When he felt her walls begin to flutter around him again he suddenly withdrew and slipped his fingers into his mouth with mirth.

Rook didn’t think she could come back from the orgasm she had just experienced for hours. But watching his deep brown eyes, so heavily layered with lust, roll up as he licked his fingers clean brought her back relentlessly.

“Yes, Spite,” he murmured, his eyes locked onto hers once more, “she is intoxicating.”

For once, Rook had no words. No quips or shrewd retorts. All she could do was stare up at Lucanis adoringly. Drunk on him. Lost in him.

Detecting this shift in his Rook from desire to affection, Lucanis responded with a reprieve in his intense machinations. Instead, he peppered her jaw and neck with a series of softer kisses. He caressed the outline of her blushing, pointed ears and stroked her jaw with his thumbs.

“Do you need to rest?” he asked, his voice still thick with quiet desire. After a moment, Rook smiled, that mischievous glint returning to her eyes.

“No,” she whispered.

With that, she hooked her ankle around the back of Lucanis’ knee, locked his elbow against her shoulder, and flipped them both over on the bed in one smooth motion.

Lucanis’ eyes went wide, having been suddenly pinned beneath her as though they were in the midst of a sparing match.

‘YES!’ Spite growled in his mind. ‘PASSION. AMBITION. OUR Rook. FLOWER and FIRE!’

Again, Lucanis found himself fully agreeing with his demon companion. His wings flared with smokey shadow and a brighter light.

Rook straddled Lucanis’ hips triumphantly and rocked herself against his hard length. Violet light overtook his eyes for a moment as he groaned out a few broken Antivan curses. His abdomen rose and fell frantically as he worked to remain in control. Rook lowered herself down to him, capturing his mouth with hers and drawing him into another languid, sinful series of kisses. When she withdrew, she hovered next to his ear.

“Be still for me, Demon of Vyrantium,” she teased before nipping his ear again. Lucanis hissed with a lost breath. Rook kissed him again, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth as she pulled away. He groaned softly. She smiled.

Lucanis was deliciously sensitive. She couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been for him. How it was likely the only touch he had received over the past year had been only pain at the hands of his torturers. She ached for him. Both of them.

Rook took her time as she moved lower. She explored his body with her mouth, paying special attention to his many scars. She traced them with her fingertips and kissed them lovingly while occasionally brushing her skin against his straining cock. Rook’s core ignited hot and eager each time she was able to steal his breath in this way. He was completely erect again, flush against his abdomen, head ruddy and glistening.

“Rook, eres increible,” [you are incredible] he uttered. She smiled wickedly and continued to work her way down to his pelvis.

Suddenly, Lucanis froze and grasped her hands.

“Mi amor, what are you doing?” he asked, sitting up on his elbows. Rook looked up and tilted her head, confused.

“Is something wrong?” she returned softly. Lucanis wiped his face with one hand, still catching his breath. He was hesitating.

“Lucanis,” she ventured. “Have you never received fellatio before?” Rook asked, genuinely curious. He could only shake his head and run another hand through his hair anxiously.

“No, mi amor. It—it is just not done. At least, not in Antiva,” he confessed, his eyes laced with concern.

“Well,” Rook purred, a smile playing in the corner of her mouth. “I am an elf…and we’re not in Antiva,”

Lucanis could still do nothing but stare at her with a mixture of astonishment and lust.

“Do you want me to stop? Truly, I don’t want you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable, vhenan,” she assured him. Lucanis released a nervous chuckle.

“That is not what I said,” he smirked shyly.

With that, Rook locked onto his gaze and continued to slink down his body purposefully. Slowly.

“Tell me if you want me to stop. No matter what,” she murmured against his olive skin. She felt him nod and caught a glimpse of his hands grasping the sheets. He was nervous. She stroked his strong thighs. Thighs she had watched for months wrapped in Crow leathers. Perched on the rooftops of Treviso. Balanced. Poised on the edge of a perfectly silent kill.

If Rook had known today was the day she would have the pleasure of giving Lucanis Dellamorte oral sex for the first time, she would have opened the finest bottle of brandy in Thedas and danced naked at dawn.

Being the source and epicentre of Lucanis’ nervous lust stirred in her a level of excitement she had never known before, and would probably be chasing for the rest of her life.

Rook slowly settled over him and looked up through her lashes with wicked purpose. Lucanis stared down at her, propped on his elbows, lips parted, eyes lost in a haze of bewilderment and something more…carnal. Pieces of his ebony hair fell over his damp brow. His muscled abdomen rose and fell with a tense rhythm.

Rook gently dropped her head and dragged her tongue from the base of his shaft to the quivering tip just once.

Lucanis’ head fell back and his whole body shuddered. He hissed in a breath and released a string of broken Antivan profanities. His cock rocked against his abdomen. His chest rose and fell uncontrollably. He grabbed at the sheets with white knuckles.

“Do you want me to stop?” Rook spoke low and deviously. Lucanis rubbed his hand over his face again.

“No. Maker’s charred body, no—AH!” he huffed.

Rook had already started to repeat the action at his first word. Beads of precum started to leak from him and she lapped them up eagerly.

“Joder, dioses, ayúdame, creador, Rook,” [Fucking divines…Maker help me] he groaned, one hand flying to his head as he tried to process the new sensation.

Spite was rapt at attention, studying Rook’s motions with fascination. The effect she had on Lucanis was tantalizing and frustrating all at once. It fed a sense of hunger in the spirit he could not quite name but he knew he adored it. He wanted more. To chase it. To claim it.

Rook finally ventured to take Lucanis fully into her mouth and apply a small amount of suction. She was rewarded with another sinful noise from him that was nearly a cry as he arched his back.

“AH! Mierda!” he struggled out, his hands instinctually finding their way down into her hair.

Rook could feel herself drip down her own leg as Lucanis’ encouragement made her clench around nothing again and again. She reached down between her legs to ease the ache for a moment and gather some of her own juices.

Lucanis watched her just as rapt as Spite. She grasped his shaft firmly with her slick hand and stroked once—slowly.

“Rook,” he gulped.

Maker, how long had it been since he had been touched? Rook couldn’t help wondering if Spite made it…complicated…for Lucanis to even take care of himself.

Finally, she took him all the way into her mouth until her lips brushed those soft black curls. Her eyes watered, but she anchored herself happily. The First Talon released incredible sounds that somehow caressed her core with ghostly talent. She couldn’t get enough.

Lucanis choked out a stuttering series of Common and Antivan profanities as his hips jerked and he gripped her hair more tightly. She felt his breath come more rapidly as his voice moved from gasps to growls.

When Rook started to move up and down his length, he stilled her head and she released him immediately.

“Lucanis?”

“Rook—I can’t. Not yet, please,” he panted. “That…you are…this is…You are extraordinary, but I will not last. I want—I need you now, mi amor. I need you first. I have waited so long to take you. Please,”

Rook couldn’t contain her smile. Her cheeks and ears blushed. She slid back up Lucanis’ damp body, and pressed her brow to his. He was still panting as she peppered his jaw with small kisses.

“Only if you promise to let me keep playing later, Master Dellamorte,” she smiled wickedly.

“If you insist,” he chuckled, still catching his breath.

“Truly though, I can’t tell you how much pleasure that gave me,” Rook added softly.

“I think I may have some idea,” Lucanis scoffed. “I’m starting to wish I was born an elf.”

Rook chuckled and nuzzled his neck. Lucanis held her firmly, reveling in her scent and taking a beat to savour the moment. Rook continued to kiss his jawline and fluttering pulse as she pressed herself against his feverishly warm body.

“No,” Rook whispered, looking up at him. “You are perfect exactly the way you are, Lucanis. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. To have you here. Like this. Just like this, vhenan.” she murmured. Lucanis found her hand and brought it to his lips.

“...I love you too, Rook,” he whispered.

Rook’s eyes widened. He had heard her.

A girlish grin slowly spread from her eyes to her lips. At that, Lucanis instantly sat them both up and sealed his mouth over hers in another passionate kiss. Teeth and tongues clashed and lapped at the other as Rook and Lucanis desperately tried to make up for all the missed opportunities and lost moments of the last few months.

Lucanis’ eyes flashed with violet as he gripped her jaw and the back of her neck to deepen the kiss. His touch was fierce and warm all at once. Just like him. Tears stung the back of Rook’s eyes as she melted into him with an overwhelming sense of mending. Of home.

“I love you,” he repeated into her mouth. “I love you, Rook,”
She held his face in her hands.

“I am a fool,” he confessed in the same tone as she continued to draw out their kiss.

“We both are,” Rook smiled against his lips. Lucanis let his hands wander again, stroking up her thighs, pressing against the small of her back, tracing her collar bone, and kneading her breasts as he pleased. Rook moaned happily against his ear before whispering, “All three of us,”

Something clicked into place inside Lucanis. Something he couldn’t feel until now. Spite’s energy surged through him with a feral rush that emboldened him—stimulated him—like a predator closing in on its prey. His wings sprang to life once more.

‘Sweat and heat. Soft. HOT. WET. Take her NOW!’ Spite urged him.

Lucanis growled deep in his chest. He grasped Rook’s hips hard enough to leave bruises, and hoisted her upright against him. Spite’s wings took their combined weight, bracing them against the bed, and pushed Lucanis up to his knees. Rook instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist and grasped his shoulders.

Lucanis’ painfully hard length pressed against her core. Her molten, swollen sex ached for him. He looked up into Rook’s hazel, Dalish eyes. Those eyes that had permeated the few dreams he’d had since the Ossuary. His expression was a blade; reverence on one side and a sharp edge of possessiveness on the other.

Finally, Lucanis lowered her slowly onto his quivering length with a lewd, guttural groan. She was more than ready for him as he sheathed himself fully inside of her. Rook squeezed her eyes shut as the air was forced from her lungs. The stretch—the fullness of him finally inside her was exquisite. A sweet twinge of pain that instantly dissolved into intense pleasure. She trembled in his strong grasp, reveling in it. In him.

“Look at me,” Lucanis demanded in an unsteady whisper. “Look at me. Look at us, mi amor. I want to see your face as I take you. Every expression. Every twitch and shiver,”

Rook happily obliged, his words instantly coaxing her walls to pulse around him. Spite’s wings flexed expressively as he continued to hold their bodies at the perfect angle.

“Mierda, you are so beautiful,” Lucanis breathed as he began to move. His hips barely shifted but Rook was already breathless again. He studied her face intently. Reverently. Drinking in every detail just as he had sworn we would.

“Lucanis,” Rook breathed into his mouth.

He rolled his hips just once in a single, shallow thrust. Rook gasped, biting her lip to quell the cry that it pushed from her lungs.

“No, tesora,” Lucanis huffed out as he repeated the movement. “Let it out. I want to hear you. I want to hear your body tell me everything. Grita. Llora. Respira conmigo.” [Shout. Cry. Breathe with me.]

Once again, Rook happily obeyed. Lucanis knew exactly what she needed.

She was tired of giving the orders. She was the one who planned each mission. She was the one who led her friends into battle. She was the one faced with making impossible decision after impossible decision. Again and again, she commanded the Veilguard through unimaginable odds and kept the consequences behind a brave face. A leader’s face.

It was her turn to be led. To follow without thought. To be vulnerable. To fall carelessly into the hands of someone she trusted. Someone she loved.

Lucanis dropped his head to Rook’s chest with a heavy breath as the impossibly soft, tender heat of her sex pulsed about him, sending lightning through his limbs.

After a moment he rolled his hips again, thrusting up into her a bit harder as he studied her face. The flush in her cheeks had travelled down onto her chest. He savoured the way she dug her fingers into his shoulders. Rook gasped and moaned softly as Lucanis repeated the motion.

“LOUDER,” Spite hissed from Lucanis’ throat.

“He is right, mi amor,” Lucanis rasped with another slow thrust. His hand came up to caress Rook’s lips and jaw. “Open your mouth,”

She did. Lucanis sealed his lips over hers for a moment before suddenly retreating and snapping his hips up with a fierce growl. Rook cried out with surprise and pleasure. Lucanis groaned in response.

“That’s it. Let go,”

Again.

Rook nearly screamed, burying her face in Lucanis’ shoulder.

Again.

“Don’t hold back, tesora,” he panted across her neck.

Again.

“The others will hear,” she gasped.

Again.

“Let them hear,” Lucanis growled.

Again.

“I want them to hear,” he gripped the back of her neck

Again.

“I want them to know you are mine. That you belong to me. To us. Deshazte por mí, tesora.” [Come undone for me, dearest] he panted.

Again.

At that, Rook completely surrendered.

“Lucanis. Gods, you’re incredible,” she moaned with lost breath. Rook’s whole body started to tense. His eyes darkened.

“Not yet,” he whispered, lifting her up along his shaft only to plunge her back down again. Rook shouted, voice cracking, as the air was driven from her lungs.

“There you are,” he purred, returning to his previous languid pace. His hips rolled against her in a salacious rhythm. He held her firmly as he buried himself inside her again and again. He was steady, exacting, and arduous like the disciplined assassin he was. Rook moaned with abandon. His control was devastating and intoxicating.

“Do you know—how long—I have wanted—to do this—to you,” he spoke between his thrusts and heavy breaths. “Mierda, the dreams. From the moment I saw you. I wanted—to claim you—mark you—make you mine. Maker, I nearly lost control so—many times. Fuck!” Lucanis paused his rhythm to sink deeper into her for just a moment.

“Mierda!” he huffed “Te sientes increíble, Rook,” [you feel incredible]

Rook took the opportunity to grind her own hips against him and sink her teeth into his shoulder.

“YESS,” Spite growled, flashing into Lucanis’ eyes. Rook grabbed his face and kissed him hard while the violet light remained. She wanted the spirit to know she was also his Rook.

Spite blinked, panting through Lucanis’ chest, and tilted his head in that way he always did around her. Suddenly, his wings flared and extended, propelling both bodies flat onto the bed but it was Lucanis who landed over her, smirking, hands on either side of her head. He instantly locked her into another fierce kiss. Seamless and relentless, he resumed the sinful pace he had set before but with the added pressure of the bed on her backside.

Lucanis thrust into her again and again. His hot breaths and gravelly moans heated her skin and tightened her core. He lavished her with lewd, open-mouthed kisses from her throat to her breasts and back. Rook writhed beneath him helplessly. She wrapped her legs around him, raked her nails over his back, and gasped between each depraved thrust.

Lucanis pulled out of her until only the tip of his cock kissed her folds before driving back into her to the hilt. Rook yelped, aching her back. Lucanis took the opportunity to capture a nipple in his mouth, applying some suction as his tongue flicked and dragged over the sensitive bud. He only released her when she begged him to resume.

“I have. AH! Such plans for us,” Lucanis panted, returning to whisper against Rook’s ear.

“Tell me,” she gasped as he slipped his other hand under the small of her back and lifted to achieve yet another exquisite angle.

Lucanis began to quicken his pace. He raised himself on one elbow and dug his fingers into Rook’s thigh, pressing it against his ribs, encouraging her to relent and let him take more of her weight. Instead, she gripped him harder, pulling him even closer. Their hips met, squelching obscenely.

“AH—I take you against the wall of the pantry. I devour you on the steps of the library. I lay you over the table—UHN!” he moaned. “The dreams. I have…My love. Mi vida. You deserve so much more,”

Lucanis quickened his pace yet again, surging into her with devastating precision. He was ruthless and tender with each breathless beat into her body. Rook clawed at his shoulders, and back, briefly burying her fingers at the base of the smokey wings. It felt cold and hummed against her skin with a muted electricity. A flash of violet sprang into Lucanis’ eyes for a moment as he and the demon both shivered with a sudden, dark revelation.

Again and again, he slammed into her, striking that rich spot deep inside her that made her mewl and whine.

Rook whimpered his name. He slowed.

“Say it again,” he spoke dangerously low.

“Lucanis,” Rook panted. He gradually resumed his pace, dragging his pelvis lower to add pressure to her clit. Rook gasped.

“Again,” he huffed, giving her more.

“Lucanis!” Rook whined. She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt herself tensing, climbing, grasping at another dizzying crest of pleasure.

“Look at me, Rook,” Lucanis rasped as he reached down between them. “Don’t look away,” he rasped, applying gentle pressure to either side of her clit with his fingers and brushing the centre with his callused thumb every few thrusts.

“I need to see. We need to see,”

“Lucanis—”

“Your eyes will roll back,”

“Luca—”

“Your voice will shake,”

Lucanis was assiduous with his control and ruthless in his technique with her. He held her close with tender words while assaulting her senses with devastating satisfaction all at once.

“I will see you undone,” he growled into her mouth “and put you back together again—AH! Again. And again,”

His hips snapped against her even faster. Harder. Pitching filthy, wet sounds across Rook’s chambers.

“Come for me, mi vida. Come for me,”

She did.

Just as he commanded, Rook fell, effortless, over the edge into the deep waters of release. Each warm wave and ripple that cascaded over her, forced cries from her lungs in feverish bursts. White stars darted across her vision, mingling with the soft black tendrils of Spite’s wings.

This time the whites of Lucanis’ soft brown eyes burned with dark violet light. He worked her through her orgasm with long, firm thrusts cinched by his quick thumb.

“Sí. Yes. Yes—” he tumbled down after her with a gravelly roar that made Rook tighten around him almost painfully. Rook hauled him even closer with her legs, letting him fill her completely, encouraging him to indulge further in her pulsing, tightening heat.

Lucanis groaned and huffed, chest and abdomen heaving, throat bobbing. He panted through a string of Antivan curses as he spilled into her, thrust after wanton thrust. His brow lolled over her chest as his body spasmed. Rook savoured the sensation as the hot bursts of his seed filled her before spilling in rivulets down her rear.

After a moment, Lucanis sighed and stroked Rook’s thigh, now limp against his side. He slipped his arms under her and held her firmly as they both caught their breath. Still inside her, Lucanis peppered kisses along Rook’s jaw and ears. She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair affectionately.

Spite’s wings dissipated with a lazy ebb that mirrored the rise and fall of Lucanis’ muscled back.

Rook hummed contentedly. The Lighthouse murmured softly as if trying to harmonize with Rook’s peace.

Lucanis propped himself up on his elbow and studied Rook’s flushed face. His eyes were glassy with sleepy contentment and wonder.

Rook smiled and smoothed a few more stray strands of hair from his face. He caught her hand and kissed the inside of her palm and wrist.

“Careful, Master Dellamorte,” Rook teased. He raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t lose your brooding edge. How will we ever explain why you look so well rested suddenly?”

“Does anything need explaining?”

“I suppose not. They'll figure it out eventually,”

“If they haven't already,” Lucanis smirked. Rook shoved him playfully with her knee.

He smiled again, rolled off of her with a kiss, and fetched his discarded shirt from earlier. He dipped it in the now cold water from the tub and returned to the bed where Rook lay still admiring his body.

Lucanis crawled back onto the mattress and gently wiped Rook with the cool cloth.

“Did I hurt you, mi amor?” the low sincerity returning to his voice.

“No,” Rook shook her head, smiling. “I—

Suddenly, the sound of Bellara’s voice passed through the door as footsteps fell just outside.

“I didn’t see her at dinner either. Do you think she’s still sleeping?” came Bellara’s muffled words. Lucanis and Rook smirked. Rook had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from chuckling.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

Lucanis and Rook instantly clung to each other. Spite’s wings sprang out and curled around Rook protectively.

“Rook? Are you decent?” It was now Davrin’s voice on the other side of the door.

“Certainly not!” Lucanis suddenly shouted, turning to Rook with a wicked grin.

This time, Rook did laugh. A full, girlish laugh Lucanis couldn’t help but gather her up in his arms to relish.

“Maker, help me,” Davrin muttered. They heard Bellara gasp a moment later followed by some stifled giggling as the two elves retreated down the hall.

“I am going to pay for that in some way later, aren’t I?” Lucanis chuckled.
“Oh, I’m sure I can think of something,” Rook grinned and leaned into her mage killer.

“Welcome home, tesora,” he whispered, kissing her head.