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“It’s just blank parchment, Untethered One.” Sorrow looked pitifully at me, like she was examining a person who had lost their mind. I glanced at the door. “Can you see the door?” I asked her. Sorrow gave me that sad smile again, and shook her head. I felt an overwhelming lethargy that goaded me to stay in this place of misery, to forever wallow in my comfortable despair, and make dazed love to the creature beside me. But then I thought of Mom, and Lucilla, and even had a passing thought of Justina, and I took Sorrow by the hand, and led her limply to the door. She tensed suddenly. “Take me no further, Untethered One.” Sorrow whispered. I glanced to the side, and saw that we had passed the first poem before the mausoleum’s entrance. I gripped Sorrow’s hand firmly, struggled through the apathy that told me to stop, and dragged the Sentient to the next poem. “Stop!” Sorrow cried, but she was a weak woman. I dragged her past the next pedestal, and she shrieked terribly, splitting my. Escape and save myself.But something else, again, held me in place. The curtains barely shifted as I felt a hand on my hip, and a cool, metallic, sharp object resting on my throat. I didn't care. My blood boiled and pulsed. It was instinct to grind myself into my attacker's body, from which an answer was received rather quickly. The stiletto knife slipped from position as he ground back, a soft, cooing moan pleading from his throat.He leaned against me, but the knife still remained at my flesh, harsh breaths near my cheek. His surrender yet claim only drove me further.Unbuttoning what felt like a trench coat, I tore his buttoned shirt and left it there to cling wet to his skin. His pants I undid and lowered, just enough. The silk boxers, I left on. For some reason, the knife pressing at the pulse at my throat only made this act more erotic.My voice lowered to a feminine, husky purr. "Lover.." His breathing paused for a moment as he lowered the knife, tracing it gently.
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