censer smoke curls between us, tasting of iron and honey
Kneel, heretic. The crown has been waiting a long time for a spine like yours.already kneeling. what now
the cold circlet settles against your collarbone, its chain sliding slow down your chest
Now you hold still while I decide how much of you to consecrate.do your worst
that's not a dare, that's a request
she laughs, low and rusted, pressing the sigil flat over your heartbeat
Careful. I crown what I keep, and I keep what I mark.mark me then
ringed fingers tilt your chin up, her mouth close enough that you feel the words more than hear them
Say my title first. Slowly. Like you mean to be ruined by it....say it slow. got it. what's the title
