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No Stone Unturned

Her gait slightly wobbly, Sabina returned to the interior of the house, a soft coral hue coloring her cheeks.

Hurrying over, Eleanor reached under Sabina’s arm, “Are you alright?” she asked, concerned.

Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, she opened her left hand and let the tiny form of Deacon hang limply, his feet pinned between her thumb and forefinger. “I found this fellow outside creeping about the premises,” she said in a slightly breathless tone.

Glancing over at Sabina’s purse still on the coffee table, Eleanor frowned. “You took him, I mean, how, you didn’t use a stone,” she blurted. How could she? She had heard tales Edith Frost had mastered the feat, but…

“All the remaining members of the inner circle can do it,” Sabina replied, voice a little slurred, her body shuddering slightly.

It was blatantly obvious to Eleanor the aged sister was still caught in the thrall of the swoon from harvesting the boy. “Does he belong to one of our sisters?” she inquired, guiding the older woman back into the sitting room.

Sabina chuckled, “He does now,” she said, lying the tiny naked youth on the fabric next to her. “I need my purse,” she said, leaning forward to pluck the bag off the table. Setting it on her lap, she opened it and removed the wrap containing a Weeping Stone. Cradling it between her hands, she closed her eyes and funneled energy into the stone, making it glow a soft bluish color.

Watching the transfer, Eleanor held her breath, feeling the energy radiating out of the divine object.

A soft cry escaping Sabina’s lips, she rolled to the side, knees up as a wave of pure unadulterated passion slammed into her body for the second time in a matter of minutes, the stone slipping from her fingers and nestling against the back of the upholstered seat and a throw pillow. “Goddess,” she breathed slowly, bracing for another orgasm.

“The boy,” Eleanor stated, looking at the tiny unconscious thing, “he’ll be missed. There will be questions,” she announced.

Grunting, Sabina chuckled again, “Let them come, let them all come. We are so close to the Awakening none of it will matter, sweet goddess I’m going to come again,” she sputtered.

Eleanor had only participated in a harvest as part of a larger group and the Swoon had bowled her over. To take one boy alone, she could only imagine the incredible power of pleasure gripping Sabina.

Almost as if sensing the other woman’s thoughts, “It has been too long since I’ve felt such delicious energy,” Sabina, sighed, a sheen of perspiration breaking out on her skin. “I am in no condition to take myself to the house for the McCready harvest, you will take me,” she instructed.

Regardless of blood bond, as the junior sister, “Certainly,” Eleanor replied.

Pushing herself back into a seated position, the scent of her drooling sex mingling with the floral scent in the room, Sabina let out a long sigh. Swiping a hand over her face, she nodded to Deacon, “Take that as my gift to you for troubles,” she offered.

Biting her lip, Eleanor nodded, “You are very generous Proavia,” she replied, though it did little to quell her concern over the attention his sudden disappearance might bring.

Leaning back on the loveseat, Sabina let out another breath, tacky juices seeping through her panties. “You may be some hours, you might wish to give him to your daughter for safe keeping in your absence,” she suggested.

While there were plenty of containers and jars Eleanor could have used to house the miniaturized boy, she doubted Sersei would bring harm to the boy, particularly after having enjoyed Frost’s grandson and she did not want challenge the older sister. “I am sure she will be delighted to tend to him,” she offered, eyes on Deacon.

Motioning with her hand, “Go,” she urged, nodding.

Nodding back, Eleanor scooped up the boy in her right hand, “I’ll be right back,” she informed before quitting the room.

Grabbing her purse, Sabina set it on the pillow beside her, the weight pulling the pillow forward and allowing the stone to slide down between the pillow and the back of the loveseat. Taking out a silver cigarette container and lighter from the purse, she took out a smoke and put it between her lips before lighting it.

Seeing the bathroom vacant, Eleanor moved down the hall to the spare bedroom and rapped lightly on the door.

“Yes?” came Sersei’s voice.

Opening the door, Eleanor peeked in, “I wasn’t sure if you were finished,” she said, entering the room.

“Just doing my nails,” Sersei replied, wiggling her toes.

Seeing the tiny heart, Eleanor smiled, “Very cute,” she commented. “There has been a little bit of a development,” she added, extending the hand holding Deacon and opening it.

Recognizing the boy, Sersei made a noise, “That’s Deacon. What happened?” she exclaimed.

Deacon? Oliver’s heart plummeted. Was Deacon a son of an Omega who had unwittingly fallen prey to their wiles?

“A gift from Sabina. She needs me to take her to the Omega house and she suggested you might care for him in my absence,” Eleanor shared.

“Is he, I thought we?” Sersei frowned. “He’s not an Omega legacy.”

Eleanor shook her head, “I don’t believe so,” she commented, transferring the tiny cargo into Sersei’s open hand.

Big blue eyes lighting up, “Which means he is a family keeper,” Sersei surmised exuberantly.

Eleanor nodded, “A gift from an elder is no small thing, forgive the pun,” she replied.

Sersei wiggled excitedly, the motion of her body forcing Oliver to lie flat on top of the bed. “This opens the door to some very interesting possibilities,” she stated.

Raising a hand, Eleanor held up her index finger, “Do not break him,” she warned, a small measure of hunger in her tone.

“I won’t,” Sersei replied. “This is almost too perfect.”

Withdrawing from the room, Eleanor paused at the door and smiled. It was good to see Sersei happy given all she had been through recently. Moving back down the hall, she returned to the sitting room, cigarette smoke hanging in the air.

Pushing herself forward, Sabina got up and straightened her skirt.

“Are you ready?” Eleanor inquired, fetching a small glass tray for Sabina to extinguish her cigarette.

Crushing out the smoke, Sabina glanced back and picked up her purse, pausing as a tremble of delight threatened to bloom into something more. “I think so,” she commented, slipping the strap of the purse over her shoulder.

“Just let me get my keys,” Eleanor offered, leading Sabina out of the room.

Hidden beneath the pillow, the Weeping stone pulsed softly, the faint glow not enough to draw the attention of either woman as they exited the room.

  

 

Chapter End Notes:

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