Dove Caught in a Burning Bush Ch. 03

That was enough to make him briefly pause, looking at her with amusement and surprise in his icy gaze. Then a barbed, inky tongue slid from between the incubus's fangs, swiping the globule of her saliva from his cheek with a long drag. "I like a firebrand, but don't get too rambunctious, Princess Prophetess. I'm not above feeding from the dying."

Crucifel's head snapped back as if she'd been struck, the veins in her throat bulging with a feeling like a phantom hand gripping her windpipe. Her eyes darted to the door, silently willing for someone to sense the malevolence in her bedchamber as she had. But there was no movement save for her straining body forcing itself to lean back and raise her knees to the side, offering herself up to the fiend.

"Doesn't resisting get tiresome, angel?" he cooed, sliding down her body to grip her legs beneath the knee and lowering his head between them. "You're going to enjoy this, I promise. Maybe your holy Highness will even get a taste for demon cock."

Exhaling slowly, Crucifel closed her eyes as the incubus teased at her swollen clit with his tongue, her hips jerking each time one of the barbs along its slick surface dragged over her sensitive bundle of nerves. She felt her body wanting to contort and shift, but could only quiver as she came closer and closer to a hateful climax.

"Get...your disgusting tongue away from me," she shuddered, feeling her insides clench as the cool keratin of his horns pressed against her belly. "Guards..."

"I can do whatever I want. No one can hear you and you can't move, not without me allowing it," he mused, running his tongue up her slit and dragging it along her folds. The incubus chuckled as he leaned across her body once more, trailing the long, dark appendage over her neck.

"Mmm, you angels are always so sweet," he sneered, nipping her earlobe sharply with his pointed teeth while Crucifel groaned, writhing in the infernal hold his venom had on her veins. "It's a shame that no one will be able to bear witness to your deflowering. But isn't it that much more intimate? I alone shall savor taking your innocence this night."

Back the demon went between her thighs and she gasped out, hips trying to arch up out of his range as he licked her from top to bottom. His mouth peeled back in a too wide smirk that stretched the corners of his jaw, sucking her clit into his mouth and rolling his tongue against it.

Crucifel jerked against him, still willing her body to move and break free even as her thighs trembled with unwanted pleasure. "St- Stop it...stop this!" She breathed weakly, her body trembling as his tongue caressed her flesh. "Guards...!"

She could feel something leaving her, body growing colder at the extremities but hotter at her core as the demon's lips smacked brazenly between her legs. The incubus was feeding freely from her through the tether of her pleasure while the illumination of her eyes flickered as the angel moaned, her wings shuddering as she felt the infernal venom lock her joints tight.

"Someone, please," Crucifel hissed out, feeling her throat clench in warning. Each breath was ragged now, stinging it as it rattled in her chest. "Guards...Prome...thiel!"

The incubus shook his head, drawing back from her and licking his lips. "That new king of yours, yes? I've been hearing echoes about him, and I'll tell you this. He can't help you now, Princess."

"Promethiel!" she gasped again, trying to move her arms and growling as her body shook with the effort of speaking. Every thought and feeling was poured into a wordless plea, every ounce of energy that remained in her body was sent into a near sacrilegious prayer to a being she knew would have the agency to immediately aid her.

Fangs clicked repeatedly in front of the angel's nose as if they were chattering in the cold, splaying apart into smaller, almost hair-like spines that shined wet in the moonlight. There was an exhale that wafted the unsettling smell of burned damp over Crucifel's face, followed by the fiend shifting his dark robes apart to allow his stiff shaft to fall free and press against her pelvis. His clawed hand stroked along Crucifel's hip as he rubbed the head of his cock against the outside of her wet folds, allowing her to feel that it wasn't just the demon's tongue that was covered in tiny, sharp barbs.

"Don't look so upset," the demon taunted mirthfully, rubbing himself up and down against her lower lips so that she could clearly feel the drag of ridged barbs scattered beneath his cockhead. "You'll enjoy this so much."

"Don't touch me!" she wheezed, struggling against her heavy limbs to try and push him away. She couldn't let him take her, couldn't be defiled by a cowardly demon who relied on venom to claim its ill gotten meals. Crucifel cried out, body and heart, in a strangled whisper. Her throat squeezed shut as the last syllable left her lips.

"Promethiel!"

The incubus cackled softly, bright blue eyes burning in the dark like a pair of cerulean coals. Sharp talons clutched her thighs as he aimed himself for the entrance to her body, keeping them spread wide while he prepared to thrust into her.

Crucifel braced herself for the cruel intrusion, doing her best to not give him the satisfaction of whimpering.

Then, a sudden, sharp crack of thunder and light filled the room, followed by a wave of heat blowing over them that swept Crucifel's long hair across her face.

In the flash, more of the face that had been looming over her was revealed than over before. What had been a featureless, almost hazy shadow with fangs and eyes was lit up to show something far, far too mundane and close to home for her comfort. She heard the incubus release a chittering hiss of displeasure and surprise, jerking away from her to fall off the bed. Even with her movement restricted, Crucifel didn't need to see to know who had entered her room, the sound of her brother's voice was unmistakable as it shook with fury.

"Your death is going to be utterly excruciating," Promethiel promised, eyes glowing with bright golden flame as all six of his wings flared wide behind him like a sextet of burning banners.

The incubus barely had time to react as Promethiel lunged forward with a single beat of his wings, fiery claws striking out to bury themselves squarely into the fiend's chest.

"Die!" Promethiel snarled, his wings burning bright with holy flame as he pinned the incubus to the floor.

Another bolt of lightning struck, this time scorching dark lines across the demon's throat as it shrieked in choking agony while Promethiel's burning claws tore through his belly with a biblical fury that sent oily black blood pouring out onto the floor. Beneath her brother's wrath, the malicious being convulsed, luminescent eyes bulging as its abdomen was forced open by the Archangel's claws.

Each sound that reached Crucifel's ears painted her a picture that she didn't want to admire, filling her mind's eye with a messy canvas of gore and suffering as the pungent scent of brimstone and burning meat choked her senses.

Still locked in place, the Prophetess couldn't see her nocturnal intruder lashing out with his own claws in blind desperation at Promethiel as he thrashed him, scoring the divine king across the ribs through his robes. Promethiel kept going as if hardly noticing the wound, digging like a furious, burrowing beast, slicing and clawing as black blood sprayed up in oil slick arcs above him to splatter back down onto his face and hair while the demon wailed. It was an awful, unnatural sound that made Crucifel's stomach clench with fear. But, some part of her felt bitterly justified too.

A part that she didn't want to examine. She'd threatened the incubus with violence, but this execution was far more than just punishment for his crime. Promethiel was eviscerating him, and Crucifel couldn't help but silently encourage her brother even if it felt wicked to do.

Crucifel felt her limbs begin to slowly unlock, not enough to aid Promethiel, not that he seemed to need it, but enough to breathe freely again. She coughed on the first deep pull, her lungs still burning from the paralysis as she took in hot, fetid but precious air. The bed shifted the demon thrashed beneath Promethiel beside it, screaming like a wild beast caught in a trap as he engulfed it in holy flame, his furious voice echoing in a polyphonic roar.

Thin slits of light unsealed upon the Archangel's arms beneath his sleeves and along his face like dozens of shining cuts, sleepy until they snapped open with narrowed pupils that zeroed in on his prey.

Another bolt of lightning hit the demon, the crackle of electricity making Crucifel's hair stand on end as the demon's voice lost its coherence as even that, it no more a voice than the groan of bending metal or shattering of glass was. A third and final spear of divine light struck, the incubus's anguish cutting off as the onslaught of claws, holy fire and lightning left it flayed and scorched.

The body was unrecognizable, a charred ruined mess of shredded flesh and broken bones when Promethiel finally stood. He dripped with the incubus's black blood, thick tendrils of it clinging to his long white hair to stain it and his skin. His own was shifting in a gradient from red to golden as it flowed down his side like a wave of flame, quickly solidifying to a uniform metallic gold as the open air had its way with it.

He swiftly lurched toward Crucifel, eyes wide and wild with a desperate worry. The moment his stained hands touched her, he wrapped all six wings around his sister's exposed form, covering her with his blood splashed feathers like a grim, protective cloak.

"It's okay," he whispered breathlessly, holding her tight as the last of the demon's paralysis loosed its hold over her, leaving Crucifel feeling weak and drained as he helped her sit up fully. "I'm here, I heard your prayer."

His wings were still burning hot against her skin, but Crucifel was grateful for the comfort of his embrace, leaning into it as she sought the warmth that had been drained from her as the incubus fed. She nodded at his words, only really half hearing them, her mind foggy with fading adrenaline and the lingering effects of the incubus's venom. "Pro...Promi-"

"Shh," he hushed, kissing her forehead with a warm, gentle press of his lips. "I've got you, don't overexert yourself, Dearheart."

Crucifel used her now upright position to survey the damage, a frown furrowing her brow as she took in the destruction around them; the walls of the room had been charred black in thick scorched webs by Promethiel's lightning, the door was in splinters from where it had been burst through and her books were scattered across the blood slicked floor.

Her eyes regretfully centered on where that blood flowed from, mouth going dry as she looked at the mangled form of the incubus.

Promethiel had savaged the demon so utterly that it made her feel nauseous, she couldn't tell where a face might have once been or not. The body, no more than just meat and gristle now, was a blackened ruin with its organs melted into a greasy, smoldering pool of blood. That same blood coated Promethiel, transferring over to smear across her bare chest and feathers as he kept her clutched protectively against him with a wing.

"Your Majesty, what are your orders?"

Crucifel had been so focused on the destroyed body that she hadn't noticed the guards spilling into the room, but Promethiel had. Her brother's wings twitched with fury as he growled through his teeth at the angel who stood at the front, stoic but taut-faced with gold staining the shoulder of his uniform.

"Kelanan... Where. Were. You?" Promethiel spoke with enough tension in his tone that it seemed to warp the pressure in the room, made even more threatening by how the incubus's blood dripped from his chin. "My sister could have been dead by now."

The captain of the guard stepped forward and bowed low, his face a stiff mask as he replied. "I beg your forgiveness. We have two bodies found within the palace grounds and several injuries, your Majesty. Some of us were handling that as well as dispatching another demon. We were on our way to check you and your sister's chambers when we heard the lightning strike--"

""Enough!" Promethiel snarled, his golden eyes burning bright as he stared down the other angel. "Check every hall, corner and damned cabinet in this palace. If you find a demon then kill it, destroy it utterly. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Your Grace." Kelanan nodded, his shoulders rigid as he turned his head toward Crucifel with a remorseful frown and kneeled with his brow touching the soiled floor. "Your Highness," he said softly. "I shall send for servants to help clean you and tend to any of you and His Majesty's wounds. Are you injured?"

Crucifel shook her head, the muscles in her throat burning as she spoke in a rasping whisper, "No, I'm fine. Thank you, Captain Kelanan."

"Very good. Please remain here while we conduct our search of the palace," Kelanan said, standing and giving a final, less groveling bow before motioning to several of his guard and making his way back out of the room, leaving behind four of his angels with them that immediately stood at the ready by the door.

Promethiel shuddered against her beneath the protective cocoon of his folded wings, his eyes glowing bright enough to cast amber light over her snowy hair as embers puffed from his lungs with each heavy breath. She'd seen him upset before, furious even, but nothing like this display of almost feral wrath. Splashed in inky blood as he was, the king cut a terrifying figure, his face contorted into a snarl as he stared at the closed door with a bitter scowl.

"Calm yourself," Crucifel whispered softly, voice cracking with worry as she reached up to brush a few strands of white hair that had managed to avoid the carnage away from his face. "You're going to burn me."

His reply was a growl as his wings curled to envelop her further, but he swallowed back his fire. "This will never happen again," he hissed, "I will have to be even more careful from now on. The demons have decided to test Edenara's new king, and I'll show them what happens when they try."

Inhaling slowly, she looked down at the metallic gleam along his side that his wings and her form had hidden from the others. Worry twisted her mouth, and she lightly brushed the torn fabric of his robe over with her fingers. "You're injured, you should let someone tend to that."

"I'll live," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "An Archangel won't die from one measly scratch, it can wait until you've been seen to."

Crucifel allowed him to cradle her tired body against him, her cheeks flushing lightly as her sore breasts pressed into his bloodstained chest. In any other situation, she would have expected to see Promethiel salivating at her exposed skin, but he seemed to be only concerned with holding her tight and watching the doorway and window like a vigilant watchdog. She felt almost like she had the old Promethiel back, the one who used to let her braid his hair and would overwrap her scraped knees in bandages in their youth.

Promethiel's bristling form was solid and steady, giving her something to lean her head against as a group of servants entered the chambers with towels and buckets of warm water to clean her and Promethiel of the Incubus's gore.

"What shall we do with its body?" One of the servants asked, a note of disgust in her tone as she looked over the mess.

"Finish the cremation," Promethiel said, his lip curling. "Erase this filth from existence."

"Yes, Your Majesty," she said, channeling divine flame into her hands. "I'll take care of it."

Promethiel watched the flames consume the body from over Crucifel's head, the fiery orange glow of the angel's holy flame shifting to blue where it caught on ruined flesh and bone.

Crucifel watched with him, her face paling as the demon's bones began to splinter and crack under the intense, divine heat.

Another of the gathered servants stepped forward with concern etched onto her scarred face, reaching out for Crucifel before Promethiel's hiss of warning stopped her. Crucifel stilled him with a hand to his chest, shushing him softly. "It's Mirilmen, you know she is no harm to me. She is here to help."

It only took that soft admonishment for Promethiel to remember himself, and he nodded sharply, slowly unfurling his wings from around her to reveal Crucifel to Mirilmen, his breath catching in his throat briefly as his golden eyes raked over the slopes of his sister's exposed breasts. He turned his head upright, quickly snapping his wings out again to shield her and the head maid from the guards that stood at attention by the doorway.

"Your Highness," Mirilmen, an angel with curly grey hair and a gilded scar across her forehead and cheek, spoke softly as several of her maids gathered around. "Can you tell me if you're injured anywhere?"

"No, I'm fine," Crucifel said, far too quickly with a voice that was obviously strained and weak. "It didn't wound me, but Promethiel--"

"Won't be looked over until you are cleared. Go on with the examination, Mirilmen," Promethiel interjected simply, leaving no room for arguments or excuses. "Please."

"Did it touch you in any way?" Mirilmen asked, only having to briefly glance at the Archangel to know that he meant his words. She had also been in their lives long enough to know just how deep Promethiel's stubborn streak went when it flared up, so with a final glance at his side, she focused entirely on his command.

Crucifel could see Promethiel's wings tense at the question, but he surprised her by keeping his gaze turned out respectfully to the rest of the room. "I..." she swallowed, "he licked me in...an intimate area, but didn't harm me otherwise beside the feeding."

They didn't need to know the sickly details about how the incubus had pinched her nipples to bruising, or strangled her from within to muffle her calls for aid. It would only cause further, unnecessary concern and those were things that would heal in time. There were angels dead or injured, including her brother, that could make better use of this help.

Mirilmen set her jaw, mouth pursing as she nodded while keeping her voice low and soft despite how the muscles in her arms bunched. "Are you sure that is everything it did?"

Crucifel nodded before flinching as a low, ragged growl rattled from Promethiel. His wings were shaking once more but he kept himself steady, even as the air around him grew hazy with furious heat. "Yes, I'm sure," she whispered, "Promethiel killed him before he could do anything else."

Knowing that she would get no more information from the princess, Mirilmen bowed before stepping back to allow the other servants that had been standing by with buckets to bathe Crucifel.

Warm sponges and rosewater slid over her skin, scrubbing away the demon's blood that had been smeared across her skin and feathers. Mirilmen offered a second shielding wing between the two royals as Crucifel's inner thighs were washed with care, and obvious effort being made by all involved to not disturb the weary angel any more than she had already been that night while still being thorough in their cleaning.

Promethiel, meanwhile, still refused to be looked over, standing sentinel in front of her while soft towels dried her from what felt like every angle before the Prophetess was dressed in clean robes. When that was finished, she felt slightly better for having the oily blood scrubbed from her, even if it felt like she would never truly be rid of the memory of it on her skin. Crucifel turned to face Promethiel and Mirilmen lowered her wing to allow her passage.

"Promethiel, it's okay," she murmured, reaching up to touch his stained cheek, likely to the chagrin of the angels who had just scrubbed the same filth from her. "Please, let them look you over."