The Darkling Path - Episode 2 E-Book

Hansa Bosbach

• Herausgeber: Berlinable UG (haftungsbeschränkt)
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Serie: The Darkling Path
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Seitenzahl: 60

Beschreibung

In the second instalment of this gripping tale, Deardra takes Psymon to an old acquaintance, the bitter Grendel, whom she knows will do anything for the right price. She is acutely aware of the need for Psymon to learn to use his glamor safely, he must master this enormous magical power or he risks wreaking vast destruction, as well as accidentally enlarging body parts of people he is trying to heal. Time works differently here and they interrupt their horeseback journey through the woods for some well-deserved forest action. Charger, meanwhile, is not a happy horse - his saddle has been besmirched by all this fun and he really thinks there should be rather less talking from the humans. Fortunately, they reach their destination unscathed, and Grendel's tree dwelling provides its own entertainment. Written with characteristic warmth and humor, this story takes the reader on a magical journey both fantastical and realistic.

Leseprobe

THE DARKLING PATH

Episode 2

Hansa Bosbach

Artcover: William Grob

Copyright: BERLINABLE UG

Berlinable invites you to leave all your fears behind and dive into a world where sex is a tool for self-empowerment.

Our mission is to change the world - one soul at a time.

When people accept their own sexuality, they build a more tolerant society.

Words to inspire, to encourage, to transform.

Open your mind and free your deepest desires.

All rights reserved. It is not permitted to copy, distribute or otherwise publish the content of this eBook without the express permission of the publisher. Subject to changes, typographical errors and spelling errors. The plot and the characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to dead or living people or public figures is not intended and are purely coincidental.

Charger wasn't happy. His master and the freshly bred Deardra mare rode on his back as he followed the winding path through the massive trees. After his master had mated with his mare they had sat and talked for far too long, in his vastly superior equine opinion. The mare had told his master about the city of the fae, and all the little hidden places she knew the fae lived in. Mostly it was the trees. For it was from the trees that the glamor flowed. So they would find a large tree and hollow it out... building rooms one on top of the other with a spiral stair that wound upward along the inside curve of the tree. There was a hatch at the top of each stair that needed to be opened to ascend. This kept the unwary from falling through holes in the floor when they were in an upper room. They used glamor for light. Condensing it into small golden ornaments that shone with the same amber light that was found outside. His master seemed impressed, but he was not. Living in trees... the country fae were idiots in his opinion. Now the city fae... that was another thing. They built huge towering structures. Stone and crystal flowed together with living wood to stretch upward toward the sky. Each building a unique reflection of the power and personality of the fae that created it. Power was everything to the fae. Glamor could work wonders if you had enough of it. It protected you, provided for you, could be used as currency in trades, and even.... if you were skilled enough… could be condensed into rare and unique objects. Each created object was a permanent physical thing of pure glamor. They were dangerous... and powerful. A few... like the dagger Deardra's former master had carried, even had what felt like a will of their own. Normal ones were dangerous enough. Because if you didn't know how to use it, it could be accidentally activated at the wrong time and either injure or even kill the user or those around them. But those with a will, those were something else all together. You didn't own them. They chose who used them, and for what purpose. And if they decided they didn't want to do something, and you tried to force them… well... it always ended badly.

Charger knew on some level that he was such an object. When the master had driven him into the fae lands and felt he was about to die, the intensity of the emotion from a king had drawn epic amounts of glamor from the trees. Without knowing what he was doing, his master's desire to protect himself and his car had shaped the glamor and poured it into him. Charger had purpose in that moment. Taking a form to fulfill that purpose. He would protect the master. He would protect himself. He would protect the master's mare. He was the steed his master had always thought of when he thought of him as a car.

But dammit all to hell! He didn't like taking directions from some mare that was leaking her juices and his masters cum all over his saddle! Huffing a large breath out his nostrils in annoyance. Charger hung his head in frustrated acceptance of the stains he was just sure she was making as he plodded down the path. Yes... Charger... so abused... was not a happy horse.

Psymon smiled softly feeling Deardra's arms around him as they rode. She wore his old leather jacket and had his long sleeve shirt tied around her waist like a skirt. He grinned thinking about the seductive body hidden beneath. She was like no one he had ever met. Strong and caring... beautiful... and while he hated what the fae had done to her, he loved how he could indulge his sadistic desires. Every pinch, twist, and slap made her moan and beg for more. He could use every bit of his strength and she would love it. And the silver collar she now wore was a wonder as well. Marks on her skin faded almost as soon as he made them. When he had removed his belt from around her breasts, the deep purple bruise had faded to pink and then was gone in less than a minute.

Psymon sighed as he felt her delicate hands readjust around his waist. It felt good having her close to him. "How far is it to the village?" he asked, looking back over his shoulder. Deardra smiled, enjoying his attention. "Distance works differently here. If we were on foot, it would take half a day. On horseback, still half a day. We could be flying at hundreds of miles an hour, and it would still take half a day." Psymon smirked... already seeing a loophole "soo... what if you took one step every hour in the direction you meant to travel. Would you still arrive in half a day? Even though you had only taken a few steps?"

Deardra shook her head "no... you need to actually be traveling the whole time. There is a way around it though. It requires a physical object that in some way keeps time. A watch, or an hourglass... something like that. If you think about where you want to be and slowly feed glamor into the object for as long as it would have taken to travel there, it is possible. It opens a rift in space that connects the two points. And it lets the person or people that spent the time and glamor to travel to that location. Almost no one does it though... why spend the glamor if it's going to take the same amount of time either way?"

Psymon nodded, "I think I get it. Going to take a while to get used to it though." He shifted his weight in the saddle, not used to the way it stretched his legs. "So how do you use glamor anyway? Apparently I can... but it has always been an accident." He felt Deardra shrug her shoulders behind him as her chest rubbed against his back "no idea... the fae just seem to know how. I don't think anyone teaches them." Psymon frowned in thought, "and how do you know how much glamor... i... or someone else has?"