The Great Black King

♱ •⋅ 1750 A.C. ⋅• ♱

There was much to be said regarding history, but nothing left me as stunned as this. The strong and warm arms of the man I had always dreamt of were around me, and he looked at me with a smile in his violet eyes that I admired so much.

He seemed real.

"What's wrong?" he asked me with a rough and gentle voice.

"Uh... nothing," I replied, questioning whether all of this was a dream or not. But he was still there, his eyes now closed as he held me in his embrace.

Indeed, this was one of the best dreams I had ever had.

"Sir," a masculine voice called out to him, and I saw Calisto raise his face with displeasure.

"What the hell do you want?" he grumbled.

"We've learned something that might interest you, sir," the man said, and a shiver ran down my spine.

"I'm busy," he said, burying his face in my back. I could feel his breath on my bare skin, and it made my face warm.

"Sir," the man persisted, and by this point, I already knew what would happen. I had read and reread that scene thousands of times, so I mentally repeated it as he spoke in perfect synchrony: "A girl has emerged in front of the Cathedral of Samael."

Calisto growled, and I could feel his fangs against my skin, but he hadn't bitten me. He was displeased.

"Then kill her already," he snarled.

"We couldn't, sir," the man said, and I involuntarily smiled.

Whether it was a dream or not, he was staying true to the book I had read so many times. And if it was him, if it was that scene... then I was...

My gaze wandered around the room, searching for a mirror, and when I found one, I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood.

Red hair like blood, ruby eyes without pupils, and skin pale as a corpse. There was no doubt I was Asra.

The king's concubine, who attempted to go against the saint sent by God, would not only heal the king's son but also win his heart and make him good again, as well as the cause of his death.

Calisto seemed irritated as he let go of me and sat on the bed.

"They need your king to handle something so stupid? What good are the princes?" he was bothered, but my eyes were occupied with his sculpted body, with every feature of his face.

No matter how many fanatics I had seen or how many times I had imagined it, I would never come close to the true beauty of Calisto.

Black hair cascaded down his back in messy waves, thanks to what we had done before. But, to my unfortunate luck, I wasn't even dreaming of this beautiful moment. His eyes were rose quartz.

Calisto was like a masterpiece, a magnificent body that seemed delicately sculpted. Slender, slightly defined, with perfect proportions, covered in tattoos and now red marks.

I sighed, and Calisto looked at me, expecting the morning tantrum that Asra always threw when he needed to leave her. I remembered this scene well. I remembered how I had understood it and, at the same time, found it annoying.

But all of this was just a dream. Who cares about the original script?

I slid my fingers along his arm, moving up to his shoulder, and sat on the bed beside him. I couldn't deny what I saw in the mirror: Asra was as beautiful as Calisto. Her body was perfectly shaped and looked even sexier with all the bite marks and love bites on her legs and back.

"Darling," I whispered near his ear, "don't be so angry... Isn't it better that they inform you so that you can resolve it? At least they learned their limits."

The dark-haired man looked at me with surprise. Indeed, this was different from what he expected from me. Without a doubt, it wasn't what we had agreed upon, and I vividly remembered Asra's tears—tears that weren't mine.

Calisto had promised to spend three consecutive nights with her, and they would go to heaven and the nine circles of hell together if she so desired. But Elaine appeared. The blonde ascended and took everything Asra dreamed of. Calisto's love, which he said he could never give her, and the throne that Asra always believed would one day be hers.

Elaine was sent from the heavens to destroy Calisto, but in the end, she beat much more than just the king. I wouldn't allow it to repeat, even if it were a dream.

"You should go," I said, knowing exactly how he would respond, and I enjoyed the look of surprise on Azrael's face. The fallen one seemed unable to believe what he was hearing, and I couldn't blame him for that. It was nothing to be expected from Asra.

"But that's not what I promised you," Calisto replied precisely as I expected him to, and I smiled. It was the opening I needed.

It was what Asra should have done.

"Then take me with you," I whispered. "You don't have to hold back because you promised to stay with me. I can accompany you."

Azrael cleared his throat but didn't expect everything to be that easy.

"I'm not sure if it's appropriate," he said, trying not to offend me, but his meaning was clear. "You shouldn't parade around with your concubine."

"I can stay in the carriage," I said, without waiting for Calisto to respond, and he looked at me as if trying to understand my change of attitude. Then, I shrugged. "I wasn't lying or exaggerating when I said I missed you..." I slid my fingers between his and held his hand. "So... I can wait for you in the carriage while you handle everything. I know I haven't behaved as I should and have constantly acted like a spoiled child, but... I want to prove to you that I can be useful."

Azrael opened his mouth to speak, and I cast him a fleeting glance. I knew Asra's abilities, so I shouted in his mind: "Suggest that I'm only good for warming his bed, and I guarantee you won't wake up for weeks, fallen one."

I didn't mind threatening Azrael if it allowed me to change things and if it allowed me to save Calisto. But it was apparent that the king had yet to makeded yet. He ed at me as if questioning whether he should do it. Asra needed to have a better track record of public appearances.

I smiled.

"Please..."

Calisto sighed.

"Alright, get dressed... I'll wait for you in the carriage."

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