Sora
“There we go. They should be coming around now.” A feminine voice spoke, and I felt the familiar cooling sensation of an IV forcing something into my arm. “In fact, they can probably already hear you.”
The feeling in the rest of my body slowly returned, spreading alongside with the cold from the IV. Whatever they were giving me was probably pretty good stuff, because I was already feeling a haze wash over my mind. It was making my thoughts floaty and pushing back my screaming instincts that were telling me to fight back against the drugs. Instead, I just laid there on a comfortable sofa and enjoyed the moment. Choosing to ignore whatever life-threatening danger I was almost certainly in.
“Is that true? Sora, can you hear me?” A gruff, masculine voice asked. I slowly cracked open my eyes and sat up slightly to better take in my surroundings. I was lying on a worn leather couch in some sort of study. It was exactly the sort of place you expected to see on the feed in ads for whiskey or cigars, featuring attractive dwarven men with gruff voices and rideable beards. “I’ll take that as a yes. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Sora. I was hoping we’d be able to have something of a talk.”
“You’re not a dwarf.” I sank back into the couch with exasperated disappointment. The large cat shifter sitting in the chair near me blinked in surprise. He looked nearly human, with short ginger hair and a boring, neatly groomed beard that complimented his features. He probably would’ve been perfectly fuckable, but I was high and in the mood for rough and rugged, not whatever the hells this guy was like in bed. I was assuming greedy and vanilla, but I also wouldn’t have been surprised if he ended up with a hidden kinky side. His type usually did, but I wasn’t in the mood to go digging. The couch was much too comfortable for me to get up for something that was probably just going to end in disappointment.
“No, I’m not a dwarf, but I don’t think that’s going to be an issue once you hear what I have to say.” He was clearly starting to get annoyed, which put a slight smile on my face. It was possible that he was going to end up as the evening entertainment after all.
“Alright, go on, I’m listening.”
“I’d like for you to become my consort,” he said, in a weirdly casual manner.
“I’d lov-uhhat would I get out of that?” Muted red flags began firing off in the back of my mind as I had to force myself to not immediately accept his proposal.
The shifter looked at me in confusion, before his gaze darted above me, behind the couch. I followed it to see a kind, gray-haired human woman wearing some sort of light-weight, body armor adjusting the flow to the IV. It seemed like she was giving me more of the drug, which I appreciated.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“You’d be the consort to a captain on the council of kings. Doesn’t that sound appealing?” I had thought the offer to become consort was for me, but he was glaring at the woman behind the couch as he spoke, so I waited for her to respond. She didn’t, which only seemed to raise the amount of sexual tension in the room. Being caught between a potential whirlwind romance was killing me. I knew in my heart of hearts that she would love and reciprocate his no doubt boring, vanilla sexual preferences.
“What’s going on? Why isn’t this working?” The man gritted his teeth and my heart broke for him.
“You need to woo her, man! She’s just standing there, waiting for you to make the first move. Go to her!”
He just blinked at me, finally realizing the error of his ways. The woman behind the couch was trying to suppress a fit of laughter, not wanting to embarrass her potential lover. Again, my heart went out to her. I had been in similar situations quite a few times while working for Sheila at The Garden. My clients usually knew exactly what they wanted, but not always how to ask for it.
“Okay, time to change tactics.” The man roared, literally roared, before standing to reach forward and pull the IV out of my arm. I was about to complain about the buzzkill, when he then grabbed me by my shirt and tried to throw me off the couch. Unfortunately, my shirt was too expensive to withstand that sort of treatment, so all he managed to do was expose more of my chest.
“Whoa, now who’s going to pay for that? Because it sure as the hells isn't going to be me.” I sat up so that I could manage a better pouting-upset look. The combination of suddenly being cut off from the drug in the IV and the expensive wardrobe malfunction worked to sober me up surprisingly quickly.
The man leaned forward to rest a clawed hand on the back of the couch above my shoulder before lowering his face to be mere centimeters from my own. His teeth started to elongate and sharpen while his hair grew into a thick mane. “Listen here, fox, the deal has changed. You can either work for me as my agent, and I will reward you as my plaything. Or you can refuse, and I’ll punish you by rewarding your sister instead.”
Any of the drug left in my system was immediately purged and my heart rate slowed as a preternatural calm washed over me. I moved my face closer to his, keeping our lips a hair’s width apart, and reverting to the training that I had spent my entire life perfecting, I raised a hand to caress his cheek. “There’s no reason to bring Sami into this.” I lightly trailed my fingers through his hair, over his ear, and along the side of his neck. My touch was barely able to be felt, but it was more than enough to have him melting in my hands. “I’d do anything to protect her.” His breathing slowed, and the snarl faded to a lazy, triumphant grin. I matched it as I gently trailed my lips across his, in not quite a kiss. “There’s no reason our relationship needs to be so hostile. Would you, perhaps, be willing to consider a different arrangement?”
I allowed him the time to consider my offer, and even felt him begin to respond, but stopped short whatever counter he had been forming as I materialized my dagger halfway into the base of his skull. It wasn’t even an attack, not really. A simple technique that bypassed all known shields, armor, and natural defenses. It was completely lethal, and I allowed his body to drop to the floor before it could start bleeding on my already torn shirt. I stood and turned to face the shocked woman, who was still standing behind the couch. “Now, you're going to take me to Samira.”