Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Soul of the Gray (Part 1)

Eilin eyed the grand staircase leading into the restricted part of the castle with infinite curiosity. No matter what angle she found, she could not see into the shadowy depths of the corridor from anywhere in the foyer. She had tried from many places, to much chastising from the ghostly servants that flitted about the keep, but to no avail. Her curiosity burned with in her, heightened by the singular rule that she not ascend that staircase.


The Master had been most generous since her father had sold her here for his freedom. She had access to all other areas of the castle and grounds. The kitchens were open to her whenever she pleased. He had not asked anything untoward of her as of yet. But, damn, she wanted to know what was up there. Her imagination ran wild with unnumbered horrors, only things such a scarred an bestial man might possess.

Almost unconsciously, she felt herself drifting towards the staircase. Just as her toe would have landed upon the first step, a slender figure materialized before her. Caolan, the chamberlain, hung in the air before her a collection of mist and smoke forming the visage of a lean man with a hawk nose and sharply angled jaw. He frowned at her, as best as such an apparition may manage and waved an ethereal finger at her disapprovingly.

"I understand your inquisitiveness, milady, but the Master would not approve of your explorations." His voice was wispy, though deep, almost as if he spoke from great distance.

"He has been kind to me thus far. I think he might forgive a little peek," she said, mounting the first step.

Caolan grew larger, the billowing smoke whirling furiously about him. A ghostly chain slithered out of the nothingness to clasp her about the ankle and thether itself to the bannister.

"Cease your blustering. I shall take what comes of this," Eilin said, yanking the length of the chain.

Caolan peered at her for a moment, reluctant, but the chain faded back into the mist from whence it came. Eilin picked up her skirts and, smiling victoriously at the unearthly servant and sped her way up the forbidden stairs into the hall beyond. The corridor itself was disappointingly plain. Candelabra jutted out from the walls. Only every other one was lit. There were pale places on the wall where paintings and tapestries that had obviously been there for years no longer hung. She walked past large heavy doors fitted with iron padlocks, windows with the hangings pulled back to let in the silvery moonlight, which sparkled on the metallic threads running through the wide carpet lining the center of the floor.


At last she came to the largest set of doors. The only ones not locked up. She looked about quickly, as if she might find another servant hovering in the shadows to snag her with another of those uncomfortably airy chains. When none came forth, gingerly, she pushed open the door. It yielded easily to her touch, swinging open with neither resistance nor sound. She stepped through into the dim light.

It was a massive room, befitting a prince. A great bed rested against the far right wall, hung with luxurious draperies and piled with furs. Eilin looked about as her eyes adjusted to the lack of much light and noticed a number of intricately carved pieces of furniture about the place. A beautiful chair sat before a grand fire place. A couch graced another wall. Then she noticed the pieces that were not so familiar. An oddly high table, short and solid. It resembled a box more than a table. Silver rings were fitted to the sides at various intervals. A low bench fitted with cushions, a thick chain snaking around its feet. Then she noticed that chains hung from the wall as well, and suddenly she was afraid.

Even as his large, warm hand slipped into the back of her hair and took a tight grip on the roots, she found she could not move. She did not jump, or move away. Perhaps because something inside her knew it was futile, or perhaps because she had already resigned herself to the consequences of her curiosity.

"I had wondered when you would finally seek me out," he said, his voice rumbling against her as he pressed his chest to her back. "I must say, you succumbed to temptation more quickly than I had anticipated."

She said nothing, her chest heaving in her bodice. His other hand came around to brush her throat with sharp nails, making her shiver. The hand moved down, the nails, looking more like claws as they went, parting the laces of her kirtle as a knife through silk. Once fully severed, he pulled the fabric away from her middle, to run the claws over her belly, tugging at her chemise as he went. Her belly tightened, pulling away from the tickling sensation.

"I am afraid that now you have come here, you will not leave for some time."

Eilin let out a shuddering breath. "Why?"

The Master chuckled, making a small slice in her chemise. "You have yet to ask about this place, why I look the way I do, why I share an expansive manse with naught but spirits to serve me."

"I...I..." she stammered, eyes frantically following his hand as it began to part the slice low on her belly and slip beneath the fabric. "I assumed you were some sort of fae."

He laughed again, finally pressing is palm against her belly. Her stomach leapt at the sensation. "Then you are not as bright as I thought, to tempt the wrath of a fae. But I am no fae. I am simply a beast. Vicious but not cruel. The fae are infinitely cruel."

She gasped as he gently cupped her sex. "A fae is responsible for my existence. Liadain, the Grey Lady. She desired to own me, and I would not allow it." His hand moved back up slowly. "So, she took from me the touch of woman. The touch of anyone, as you have likely deduced from the state of the servants. Her curse was that should I acquire a woman, I could only touch her if she came to my chamber willingly. If I touched her before that time, she would become as insubstantial as Caolan and the others." He tugged her head to the side and buried his whiskered face into her neck, breathing in her scent. "And then she scarred me and gave me beastly features that no woman would wish to come near me and veiled my castle that those beyond its grounds would forget about my line and let the old kings fade into legend."

This is a photo manip I did for a failed fiction blog for the same
concept. The cloaked woman is Eilin, and the woman in the
water is Liadain. The base photo is an America's Next Top
Model Shoot. 

He guided her more fully into the room, toward the high table with the rings. "Fortunately, fae are much burdened by their literal natures. One must be very delicate in making requests of them, or they find ways to twist your words and exploit any and every loophole. Alas, it is a double-edged sword. She said you had to come willingly to my chamber. She said nothing about after you were already within."

Eilin made a small sound and tried to twist out of his grip. His laughter filled the room. "Do not panic, little beauty. We shall spend much time getting to know one another. In time, I imagine, you shall never wish to leave this room. But first..." he finally ripped away the rest of the chemise,"we will need to address that curiosity of yours."

He pressed her legs into the table and bent her over the edge.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked


  1. The story captured my attention and held it and I can't wait for the next part! Love this!

    Rebel xox

  2. "A fae is responsible... ...the old kings fade into legend." - I love this paragraph.

    And you took me up that staircase with you. - I enjoyed reading this.