[44.] fingers lazily tracing the marks they just left on your skin. ( blood ritual spell casting perhaps? )
What a night. Daemon's head was reeling. He felt like his mind was wrapped in cotton, subduing his senses. He was laying on the bed and only faintly felt the tender caress of the satin sheets. A comfortable weight rested on the side of his bare chest. Lilac eyes looked down and made out a figure in the twilight of the room, which was only illuminated by a few distant candles. A woman, with long raven hair.
The Princess Celestia.
The events of last night slowly returned to Daemon. They had retreated into the bed chamber. He had been unable to keep his hands off her. Even before Celestia had told him about the blood magic of her people, which had kindled a fire inside him, as it reminded him of Old Valyria and the valyrian Bloodmages, he had been entranced by her. And he had been all too willing to participate in her ritual.
His throat felt parched when he gave a chuckle. "The things I have seen..I cannot put them into words." Something happened. The experience had been unlike anything he had ever felt before. It had been exhilarating and terrifying alike.
Lilac eyes, though still drowzy, managed to focus now and Celestia's beautiful face became clearer. He felt her finger tracing his stomach and chest, and a look further down revealed the marks of the ritual. Was it paint? No, he had bled. The satin was stained with his blood and perhaps hers too.
Daemon wrapped his arm around her bare back and gently pulled her further up, so that she could rest her head on his chest where his skin had not been marked. "You claimed that the ritual changes a man. I see that now. I lost and gained something, though I cannot yet tell what it is."
He had not forgotten her words about a sacrifice. What they had experienced last night in the throes of passion had been but a glimpse of what was possible.
