Guy Mannering, Or, the Astrologer — Volume 02 by Walter Scott (inspirational novels .txt) 📕

“Why won’t he just die?” she clenched her fists and drove them through the stone alter. It shattered upon contact.

That felt good, so she continued to smash. Her fatigue from the battle evaporated as she took out her frustrations on the glamoured stone. Despite what humans might think, the moss, hill, plateau, and stone were not mere illusions. They were thoughts made matter by her power. She knew the weak-willed humans had trouble understanding that, and she didn’t care to elaborate for them.

It was cathartic to ground her obstacle to dust with her bare hands. A savage smile broke out across her face as she imagined Cam’s stupid mug on it as she smashed it to pieces. She could create a new alter with a thought, but there was something about destruction right now that really appealed to her. She straightened up from the pile of debris at her feet. Her dress had finally torn during her therapy, and she stood naked in all her glory. Her magnificent breasts heaved as she sucked in air and let it out in a mantra-like fashion. She brushed some stone dust from her hard nipples. The destruction had excited her in a way the mortal men around her had failed to for years.

She didn’t feel self-conscious. She knew she was the epitome of human beauty, and an object of lust for many men at the academy; teachers or students, she knew they all looked upon her with desire. She crafted her human guise to be just that. She’d done her research before coming to this realm. Large tits, a flat stomach, and a toned ass could work more wonders than mere magic among humans.

Her mother thought it was vain and unnecessary, but it was Aveena’s decision. If she was going to be among humans, she would show them what she truly was: better than them in every way. She knew that. Most everyone at the school knew that; so why didn’t Cameron Dupree bow to the inevitable? She blew the stone remnants from her knuckles and took stock of her situation.

She tested the bonds of vassalhood in the back of her mind. Many of her vassals were dead, many others were scattering as quickly as possible away from their enraged liege. Half a dozen had been roasted alive by the whore’s infernal flame. The flame she got as a gift from Aveena’s father.

The rage threatened to explode out of her at the thought, but she took several deep breaths to calm down. She’d never understood why her parents had thought it a good idea to allow a breeding with the succubus. They were vile, disgusting creatures, that were so far below the noble Fae it was laughable. She understood the curiosity, the need to experiment with the human supernaturals because they were the only threat to the Fae, but why the succubus?

“Was it really worth it, Dad?” she exhaled all of her anger out in one long breath.

She knew it wasn’t. If her father had never gone to the queen of whores, Aveena wouldn’t be in this situation. “Why is everyone around me so fucking stupid?”

“Finished?” a childish voice asked behind her.

She spun, fury scarring her beautiful face, until she saw who’d spoken. The creature’s glamour showed an angelic child with dimples, rosy cheeks, and teeth a little too white to be believable. Curly blonde bangs swept into his eyes, and with a toss of his head, he cleared them to smile at her.

Her anger vanished, but it was replaced by dread. “Godric,” she gave the child a small bow. Not the bow of an equal to an equal, but a bow to someone respected that was not far below her own station.

“My Lady,” his bow was deeper. “You must know why I’m here.”

Aveena gulped. She knew her mother would know the second her knight died, but she didn’t expect her to send this particular messenger so quickly. Aveena expected the Lady of Winter to send an errand boy through the portal in Ireland, and then that boy needed to travel here. Aveena expected hours, not minutes, which told her how deeply she’d stepped in this particular pile of shit.

Unlike humans, she could see through the other creature’s glamour. He was no angelic child. His skin looked like leather; cracked and scarred in many places. Most of his flesh was covered in chainmail armor, and he had a pair of swords strapped to his back. His face had more in common with an ape than a human; with a pair of tusks rising up from his lower incisors, and fangs stabbing downward. They lay comfortably along the front of his face for every Fae to see, which might be why he chose such a beautiful child as his glamour. Even among Fae, Godric was butt ugly.

He was also iron kissed. Aveena could feel the cold iron in the chain mail Godric wore with ease. Any other Fae that wore the armor would have been rendered helpless. One of the remnants of the endangered goblin race, Godric was one of the few Fae races immune to the effects of cold iron. That made him very valuable, which only spoke to how pissed off her mother must be. She wouldn’t send one of her chief advisors to fetch Aveena over nothing.

“Yes,” Aveena made sure her spine was straight and chin held high when she answered. “When does she require my presence?”

“Immediately,” his answer sent her stomach plummeting into her feet.

“Very well,” she prepared to step on the journey to the Irish portal.

“There will be no need for that,” Godric replied with a shake of his head and wave of his hand.

Power rippled through the room and tore her glamour to shreds. The hill crumbled beneath her feet, the water from the bathing pool evaporated into steam, and the moss