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The Imp

It all started when the gates got breached. The city was engulfed in flames. All manners of cries raged throughout the night sky as the enemy poured in like a flood. Order was broken. Its was everyone for themselves. A total state of anarchy.

I was strapped in a woman's arms, lulled by her beautiful voice as she desperately tried to cover me from the horrid sight and sounds around us. She had nowhere to go. The city was surrounded, but still she ran. Desperate to find any means of escape.

There was none...

In an instant, time stopped. The dark streets flashed with a blinding light. The cold air now burning, as a powerful force ripped me from the woman's arms, tossing me hard against the stone street.

The impact sent a wave of pain throughout my body, leaving me in daze, with the taste of blood in my mouth. Looking up, I saw everything in flames. Buildings broken to tinder and rubble. The earth scorched black. This destruction, no doubt, caused by fire magic. Horrible sorcery used to lay waste to this once majestic fortress.

From the chaos came a voice. A sweet voice calling a name. My name? I looked towards the caller and saw a vague image of a woman clad in a purple cloak, surrounded by a city on fire. She looked like a painting of serenity in the midst of chaos. And she was searching for something. Someone. Me?

I reached out, too weak to speak. She was so close, yet unreachable. I could do nothing as my vision slowly fell into darkness. The woman, now surrounded by men, was fighting for her life. And as darkness finally took me, I saw her fall.

That was the last thing I remember of that night or my past. Everything else were broken pieces of thought that barely made up a memory. Now all I knew was this life. A life of a slave. Commodity to be sold out the the highest bidder.

.............................................................

"Too small," came the cringing voice of a large woman decorated in heavy ornaments. An image of one trying too hard to look royal. "What is it?"

"Maybe a dwarf," replied her companion, a thin, tall man dressed in a toga.

"Dwarves are stokier. More beef in them. Not to mention taller." The scrunched voice came again.

"Maybe a baby dwarf?" The man peered at me. "What is he?"

"We are so sure, good sir." Spoke the man I knew as Orid, the slave master. "Just happened to obtain him when I bought this lot in bulk. Prisoners from the wars north. Not sure the race they have up there, but we presume he is a cross between a gnome and a dwarf."

"Whatever it is. Its not worth a cobble coin. Its basically starved!" The large woman heaved. "Do you have anything in this sorry bunch worth a flea?"

"Of course," Orid said. "But it would be best if I knew what you intend to use the slave for? Hard labor? Fights? Server? Pleasure..."

The woman grinned a crooked grin as she looked at her thin mate. "Pleasure."

"Very well. Right this way."

I gave a sigh of relief as I watched them move on. I didn't wish to be taken by anyone. Actually, I didn't know what to wished for. I just lived. Passed the day with no thought or desire for anything. Like a good slave. Commodities don't have thoughts. It just lived to serve its master. At least, that's what Orid drilled in our heads.

As the sun went down, we were packed into freezing dens. Wait for the masters to march us to Varga, also known as the City of Wolves. A place notorious for businesses involving slaves, sell swords, prostitution and the like.

With the constant war raging throughout the known world, Varga's slave and mercenary market flourished. And thus the demand of slaves were a constant. Taken from war, breed for war, and continue war. A cycle that may never be broken.

Needed an army, an assassin, thieves, spies, weapons, anything at all? Varga was the place you looked. Enemies from all sides congregated the city in search for such services. Making it, ironically, a place of peace. As people put their difference aside and conducted their business without fear of aggression from a person of an enemy state. That was the law. Anyone who broke it, lost privilege within the city and would likely loss their war.

Though it didn't mean the city didn't have its fare share of internal strife. Varga was run by mercenary warlords who competed for power. And after a harsh history of internal war, a triumvirate was formed. Three major mercenary guilds broke bread and decided that for peace, an honorable person - with no connection to any guild - was delegated as the city's Overseer. Governing with no bias to any of the major guilds.

The road to Varga was hell. Hundreds of slaves were bound tightly and forced to march under the hot sun. They called it deaths march. A way to weed out the weak, leaving only the strong to be sold.

All those that struggled were beaten. Those who couldn't continue had their legs broken and their arms bound. Left to starve out on the side of the road or eaten by the many scavengers of the land. A great motivator for the slaves to push on.

I wouldn't have survived the march. Luckily for me, since I was smaller than a child, I was placed in a caged wagon holding the small children and delicate look women and men. No doubt to be sold off as servant of pleasure to many lords and ladies.

It took us a fortnight and a half to reach the bustling city. Varga was big. Really big. Like the size of four grand cities combined into one, divided each sections by walls.

The outer most section was a grand land dedicated to vegetation and livestock. For feeding the many mouths dwelling in these walls and training war animals. The second section was dedicated to business, residences and minor guilds. The third, was for homes of the nobles, temples, governing buildings, grand guilds, and educational centers.

The main roads in the city were large enough to march an army. The houses peaked up to the sky and were fashioned with many arches, balconies and columns. Each building varied in architectural designs from varying lands that, surprisingly, complimented each other.

There were many vast plaza in the second section, designed to showcase armies, slaves or livestock. One such plaza was where we were stocked. Waiting for the rising sun to mark the start of business.

Scores of abled bodies were bought. The young for war. Younger for training into elite guards, assassins or the like. And the beauties for pleasure homes and servers to the rich. Before the sun went down the same day, every buyable body was sold. Leaving the rest, like me, for the carnivorous beasts and arenas. Where we would surely die.

"Lets pack up boy," Orid beamed with pure glee. No doubt from the fortune he just made. "Off we go to the arena! I have a heavy bag of coin to bet on your manner of death!"

The other slavers laughed at our misery, each one happy for their share of coin. They didn't bother cleaning up or resting us. There was no point. We were to be sold to death, our last breath used for the entertainment of others.

As they started leading us away. A man, dressed in a clean tunic, approached Orid. He didn't look rich, but still well enough to afford a slave.

"Wait," he spoke with a smile. "Are you still willing to make a sale?"

"We are just closing up, my boy," Orid grinned. "But I think we can make an exception. That is if you want something from this garbage."

"Oh, I most certainly do," the young lad said. His eyes drifting to me. "How much for that one?"

"The splinter?" Orid chuckled in pure mockery. "Out of all the trash here, you choose the worst. HAHA."

"Well you know what they say about another man's trash," he beamed back.

"Look," Orid continued to laugh. "I'm in a good mood. So I'll give you some advice. Take this lass instead," he marched up to a thin yet tall elf. "May be skinny. But give her a meal, let her rest and you will have a prized slave, worth more than a sell sword. I guarantee it!"

"If she is that prized, why don't you keep her?"

"I'm not a caretaker, boy. I just sell slaves. Someone will eventually buy her. But grooming her back to health is their job. Not mine."

"Oh, I see," the man answered. "But if its all the same to you, I would still like to go for him."

"Why are you so interested on that one," Orid asked with curiosity.

"To be honest, I am actually tight on coin at the moment. And I assume the boy will cost less than the lass. He seems sickly and starved, but he all I can afford. And as you said, I can always try grooming him back to health."

"Hmmmm," Orid groaned. "As if. I don't usually groom slaves. But this one in particular was in my list of care. Despite his looks now, he does have an appealing face on him. We assumed he'd make a great boy toy for any lord or lady with an exotic appetites. But no matter how much we fed him, he would never grew. In the end, he was a waste of good food. I tell you, he is not worth it."

The young man chuckled. "Forgive me, but aren't you suppose to convince me to make a sale? It seems like you are desperately trying chase me away."

"I'm just trying to give you the best deal. But since you are so inclined to buying this piece of crap, give me an offer."

"A copper coin?"

"Make it two and his all yours. Others would have sold him for 10, but I'm no conning merchant. He is worth 2 copper coins. No more. No less."

"Deal." the young lad said.

A moment later a contract was made, and spell cast. A magic seal embedded around my neck, glowing along with the contract. Binding me to my new master.

..................................................

"I cant believe you Darik! When I sent you to get a slave, I didn't expect you to buy a corpse." A man known as Emar said to his brother.

"He was only 2 copper coins."

"Yes! Two copper coins that could have been invested in something more than a puny sack of rotting flesh. Hell even rotting flesh would have been of more value!"

"Calm down, Eman. Because this is not just some corpse."

"Oh, is that right? Then tell me, what is this overgrown rodent."

"I cant tell you now." Darik whispered. "We need to go somewhere private."

I followed behind as the two continued to discuss. Darik keeping a close eye on me as we made our way to their room at a local inn.

"Ok here's the thing." He spoke as he pulled my leash. From this position I stood between them, no taller than their thighs. "I believe he is an Imp."

"An imp? Ha, you have gone mad!" Eman mocked. "Imps are way more pleasing to look at than your rat."

"I am being serious. Take a look," Darik got on his knees and pushed my head down. "See those marking on the back of his ears."

I didn't now what was happening, but I could feel their breath on my neck.

"Do you see them?"

"I do." Eman grunted. "So he has some fancy tattoos. What does that prove?"

"Not just any fancy tattoos. They are signs of magic moldings."

"Magic what?"

"Moldings. A magic spell used to reconstruct facial appearance. I believe it was used to shorten his long, pointy ears. Making it look more gnome/dwarf like."

"Maybe he just had a deformed ear and wanted it to look better. This doesn't prove its an Imp. Because if he was an imp, he would have that mind bending scent that drives people crazy with lust."

"True," Darik smiled. "But who's to say that the spell caster didn't do a binding spell to hinder him from giving out his alluring aroma?"

"Why would they do that? Its the imp's signature trait. Binding it will basically make them... like this. Useless."

"The same reason why any succubus would hide their impling child deep in a cave. To protect him from the world. I believe the caster was his succubus mother, sister or lover. They cast spells on their imps when they travel, as to not attract predators."

"All the same, I'm still not convinced. If your theory was right, why did the slave master sell him for only two copper coins."

"Because he didn't know what prize he had."

"Your telling me that the slavers had him for months, and didn't have one clue as to what he was? And you just happened to find out this is an imp in a day?"

"The slave master is an idiot!" Darik laughed. "He only has eyes for a selected few. Pretty ones to sell for pleasure. And the big ones to sell to Mercs. Everything else is garbage in his eyes. Plus, he oversees so many slaves, that a guy like this," he patted my head. "Just goes unnoticed."

There was a pause as Eman thought things through, "Ok, so in the small chance that you may be right. What do we do now?"

"Find a mage skilled in unbinding spells. One who will not double cross us and take our new found price"

"Guess that is my job?"

"You are the connected one, brother. I'm just the brains."

"Whatever," Eman smirked. "I really hope you are right. A mage that type is not cheap."

"If I am right, which I am. The price will be more than worth it in the end."

........................................................

The next day, we found ourselves in a cramped study. Books and scrolls littered the area, each one holding scriptures in many different tongue on varying forms of magic.

"So this boy is your cousin?" Asked the old mage, examining me.

"Yes sir," replied Darik with a smile. "Our cousin."

"I have to say, he does not look like either of you."

"Is it the height that gave it away?" Eman said with a smirk.

"Oh not just that," the old man laughed. "He has no physical trait similar to yours. Not to mentioned he is half starved."

"Oh that. Sadly, my cousin was born with an abnormal height defect. This left him unwanted by the family and open him to abuse. That is why I rescued him." Eman lied with honey in his voice. "Sadly the family has a beastling friend who is good at tracking. The only way to get him out was changed his appearance and bind his scent"

"Hmmm," the old mage groaned. Still inspecting me.

"So will you be able help us unbind him and restore his original look?"

"Of course," the man beamed. "But I must say. It would be easier if I knew the original spell cast."

"Sadly I don't know it. But the mage who helped us said that any true mage, worth their salt, could do this job easily. Luckily for us we have a master here."

"Well of course." The old man stood high and proud.

"So when can we get started?"

"Right away."

...................................................

I found myself in the center of an archaic magic circle. The old man chanting out loud foreign words, making the circle around me glow. Igniting the ritual.

My body contracted and deformed. Flashing broken memories of my past raced through my mind. I went through something like this before. In place of the old man, I saw a woman chanting in her musical voice. My heart ached. The voice reaching into my cores, evoking emotions of love and warmth. My heart knew the voice, but my mind did not. Who was she...

At the apex of the ritual, I was at peak pain. I felt my ears burning and my muscles contort. I could feel myself changing. But just before I passed out, everything stopped.

I found myself on the ground, exhausted, but not in pain anymore. The chant was over and the light had vanished, ritual came to an end.

"Oh great gods," Eman gasped. "It worked."

"It worked," Darik screamed in excitement. "It fucking worked!"

Both brothers jumped. I was still dazed and confused as to what they were saying. What worked?

"Well, I told you I'd get it done" The old man said, quite prideful. "I am a master after all."

"You most definitely are," Darik laughed happily along with Eman.

"Ya, you are the best mage by far!"

"Oh course." The mage spoke, his chest puffed out. "Now, lets go take a look at the boy. Got to make sure his body parts are where they should be."

What followed was a moment of being poked and probed. Examined for defects. Luckily for me, I had none. The ritual worked fine.

With great glee, the brother paid the mage and made their way back to the inn.

"I told you he was an imp."

"I got to say, Darik. You are right. I usually hate saying those words, but right now I cannot be happier."

"All we have to do now is clean him up and find a buyer."

"Ya," Darik laughed. "He reeks of lust. We will have lots of trouble if we dont find a way to hide his scent."

"Right," Eman spoke.

They had a bath drawn up for me at the corner of the room. There was a divider that gave me little privacy, but it was better than nothing.

"Clean yourself up. We wont have you looking all sallied for our buyers."

I did as ordered. Taking my cloths off, I got into the tub and washed off the months of filth and grime clinging to my flesh. As the warm water coated my skin another flash back run through my mind.

The woman was in a tub, and I on her soft lap. She sang a song as she run her delicate fingers crossed my tiny body. But soon as the memory came, it vanished. Leaving me once again alone....

With a frown, I got out and dried myself off. I turned towards the divider and saw a mirror. For the first time in a long time I saw myself.

Not the starved thing with short ears. My ears were longer, and pointer. My body was still extremely short, but not horridly starved. No wonder I never gained weight, I was in a spell to look weak. To be weak. Now my body was just perfectly proportioned. Not to small, not too big, perfect.

My skin was a light. My cheeks had a rosy hue. Eyes glistening with a bright purple shade. Hair was dark, slightly long with volume. I looked like a stranger... I looked good.

I don't have the slightest clue as to what or who I am. The only thing I know was what the brothers called me.

I was an Imp.

..............................................................................................................................................................................

Velina

I moved along the back hallways of my grand establishment, Temple of Roses. Despite the name, it is not your typical temple. It was, in all sense, a pleasure house. Or by its more crude name, a brothel.

The name, The Temple, was like an inside joke. Made so one could say "I'm going to the temple" and not lie. A play of words that hid the true transgressions of many people in this city

That was long ago, now everyone knows about our temple. A price to pay for gaining more fame and clientele.

Unlike other pleasure houses, we held a greater standard of skill, looks, service and large collection of exclusive races. Allowing us to price more than triple the average brothel charged. Attracting patrons mostly with higher social standings.

The Temple had large halls for dining, drinking, gambling and socializing. Music played as the patrons sampled our men and women (the roses). Once in the mood, they could get any they fancied/afford and have a night like no other. Making use of many private rooms, baths, and other chambers for our kinkier patrons.

For more coin they could sample more exclusive roses. Like the succubi. A race of beings with divine beauty. The heart of the Temple.

I was proud of our accomplishment. But not satisfied with our overall standing in the city. Like everyone else, I wanted more for us. And to get it, I dealt with a more lucrative business. The selling of information. And what better places to get information than here.

I watched my roses work. Seducing their ways into the hearts of eager patrons. Moving their honey coated tongue with professional precession to get what they want. It was almost too easy.

And as I surveyed the halls, I saw someone that peaked my interest.

"Sapphire," I called a ravened haired elf girl to my side. "Do you see that man over there?"

"The potbelly man with a bald spot and heavy beard?"

"Yes," I smirked. "That is Zafir. A man hosting an exclusive auction at his villa tomorrow. And I want to know what he's got."

"Anything in particular I should look out for?"

"Just anything rare. Outlawed. Or utterly unusual."

"So basically everything?"

"Yes," I smirked. "Find out everything."

"You're the boss," Sapphire curtsied and twirled her way to the man.

It didn't take long until she was on his lap, trapping him with every word she spoke. Not a moment later they were heading to the upper floors, for a more private session.

I smiled as they passed me. Sapphire having a prideful look in her face. She was good. All my roses were.

..........................................................

As the night continued on, I made my rounds. Collecting information I wanted. Everything so far was bland and not worth a copper.

With a frustrated sigh I made my way out. Stopping as I saw Sapphire coming back from the stock room, holding scented oil and a potion for endurance.

"Going for seconds, I see."

"Yup! Zafir might be old, but he really does have a lively libido. Sadly his body cant keep up with his desire."

"So, has he said anything yet?"

"A lot of things. He is really full of himself. Like he would not-"

"Get to the point," I sighed. Not really in the mood for talk.

"Sorry... He didn't have much that I thought would be of real interest. But one in particular was a gold. I almost lost myself with actual excitement when I heard about it. I-"

"What is it?" I huffed. This girl really liked to drag on the conversation.

"An Imp." She smiled brightly. Pure glee plastered upon her face as she, no doubt, saw the pleased impression on mine.

"An Imp?"

"Yes! He will be auctioning an actual Imp! Gabriella and the other succubi will be so pleased to-"

"Calm down Sapphire. You do not speak about this to anyone else yet."

"Of course," she beamed. "But we will get the Imp, right?"

"We will see." I smiled and patted the girl's cheek. "You did well. Now go and find out who currently owns this Imp. And where can I find him."

...........................................................................................................................................................................

The Imp

"Why does Zafir want to see us so early?" Eman paced nervously around the room where all the auctioned goods were stored.

I didn't know what was happening but I stood were instructed, like a good slave. Eman and Darik were nice to me. They fed, bath and cloth me. Which was multiple times better than my time trapped in the cage. The least I could do was be obedient.

"There is something up. I feel it."

"Nothing is up," Darik assured. "Maybe he just want to clear up some details before the auction."

"If he wanted to clear things up, he would have done it before today. Its too late to make official changes. Whatever is happening, isn't official."

"So what do you think they are up to?"

"I don't know." He huffed. "But people like him get what they want. And if he wants that," he pointed to me. "He will most certainly get it."

"If he wanted the Imp, he would have taken it be-"

A loud swing was heard as the heavy doors opened. I watched as Zafir stepped in. With him came one of the beautiful, mature, female human I ever laid my eyes on. She had golden hair, braided up in a fashionable manner. She wore a long white dress that cut to her side, revealing her right legs. A purple cloth draped from her shoulder to the golden belt around her hips. Her feet were clean and clad in strapped sandals. Everything about her was elegant and refined.

I was not the only one in awed. Darik and Eman stood in attention. Fear gone from their eyes as the basked upon the woman walking with grace and pride.

"My good friends," Zafir spoke in his announcing voice, like he was about to open up a play. "I would like to introduce to you the lovely Velina, Mistress of the Roses."

The two other men bowed in an ungraceful manner. Either from inexperience or uneasiness.

"Its a pleasure to meet you," They spoke in union. At least they did something right.

"The pleasure is all mine," the woman approached them, hands extended for them to kiss. "May I know how I may address you?"

"Oh right," Darik stuttered. "I-Uhm-I'm Darik."

Awkwardly, he kissed her hand.

"And this is my brother, Eman. We are from the lands down south."

Eman kissed her hand as well. Not as awkwardly as his brother. "Its a pleasure to meet you, Lady of the Roses."

"The pleasure is all mine." Velina spoke as her bright blue eyes scanned the room. Landing gracefully on me. Causing my heart to throb.

With a smile she walked passed the still bowing boys and elegantly set herself in front of me. It was then that I realized how tall she was. From my perspective I was leveled with her thigh. I had to crane my neck all the wait back to see her splendid smile.

"And you must be the Imp."

I didn't know what to do. But standing in the presence of such a woman felt wrong. In my own, unfashionable manner, I fell down in prostration.

"Oh my," she giggled. Her voice was music to my ears. "Please, no need for such formalities."

Every so lightly I felt her hand on my arm. Guiding me to up from the grown. Not forceful, she gently lead and I just had to follow. On my feet, I noticed how she had gotten on a graceful squat, yet was a head and more taller than me. I was in awe, wonder and mildly intimidated by her.

"Hello there," she smiled locking her gaze on me.

"Hi," I finally spoke.

"Did he just..." Darik said in disbelief.

"He Spoke!" his brother replied, equally shock.

"You didn't know he speaks?" The lady said as she brushed a stray hair over my ear. Not once did she break eye contact. The attention made my knees weak.

"Well, for a moment we thought he was mute." Eman spoke for the two of them. "We tried to make him speak, but he just communicated with gestures."

"Oh," the lady smiled. "We will have to fix that."

Eloquently, the lady rose up and glided her way around me. Standing just behind. I could feel her soft dress brush gently against my back and smell her womanly scent. It was nice, she must have been wearing one of those potions that smelled good. Most woman wore them here.

"Now, for the main reason I'm here," she spoke. No doubt looking bigger where she stood. More intimidating. "How much will you sell him to me?"

"Uhm, sell him?"

"Yes, that is why you approached Zarif. Is it not? To sell this precious little thing at the auction?"

I blushed a bit.

"Instead of going through the all the work of auctioning - like paying the auctioneer, the city taxes and every other small details required after your sale - why not skip all that and just get to the point where you get coin. No other work required. Just me and you."

"Oh," the brothers said in union.

"Believe me. This will be easy for everyone. In the end. Auction or not. I will get him." Her words sounded so determined that I couldn't help but believe it, as if they written in stone.

"Forgive me, my lady, but if we do choose to go with the auction there might be a chance of us getting more than you might offer." Eman spoke.

"I don't know. My offer is pretty big."

"Nonetheless, there might be a buyer willing to pay more. That's the nice thing about auctions. You never know how much someone is willing to spend."

"You are right," I could not see it, but I knew the lady was smiling. "But like I said, I will get him no matter what."

It sounded like a mild threat.

"No offence lady but-"

"1000 gold coins."

"Whats," Darik spat.

"Plus a room, at my Temple, to do as you please for a year." The guys tried to maintain a look of indifference. I was not yet good with the concept of money or what her Temple was. But by the looks of it, the brothers were tempted. "And lastly, a great discount from all our services."

Silence ensued.

"Would you excuse us," Eman said in a daze.

"Of course."

I watched as the brother went to the corner and discussed things through. They didn't seem to be displeased on what they heard. In fact, they had already made a decision.

"We also want 10 free nights with a succubus," Eman finally spoke. His eyes death serious. Playing the part of a businessman.

"Hmmm," the woman thought. "That's a lot to ask. You know the value for one night with my succubi? Its a lot. Is this boy really worth it?"

The woman walked over to them. Her eyes locked onto mine as she turned to face me.

"I believe he is," her smile radiated into my core. "But you will not be served separately. If one of you chooses to go solo, it will counted off as one night."

"Of course," Eman awkwardly replied.

"So we are in agreement?" She extended a hand.

The brothers looked at each other then nodded. "We are."

What followed was the exchange of rights. I was the property of the brothers, magically bound to them. Since the lady bought me, they had to do a transfer. Both magic and legal.

It was done through blood. The brothers pricked they thumbs, then pressed onto the contract. Handed it over to the lady who did the same.

The paper light up, and growing sensation appeared around my neck. Like what happened when I was bought off Orid. And as the light died down, so did the sensation. Bring the deal to a close, sealing my fate to a new master.

..............................................................................................................................................................................

Velina

My heart could not stop pounding. Just being in the room with the imp was too much. Now holding him in my lap, as we sat in my wagon on our way back, was driving me insane.

Imps had a certain smell on them. Released when they were feeling happy, aroused or the like. It was a stimulant. Made to attract people, flooding their minds with desire. Just like their counter parts, the succubi. Only imps had a much stronger scent. They could control it. But it seems like my new little prize was not yet used to his body.

We would have to do something about that. I thought

I asked the brothers how they managed to stay sane with him shedding so much pheromones. They told me about ingesting a potion to suppress desire. Apparently it worked to some extent.

I knew about the elixir, but decided not to bring some. Didn't think his scent was going to be this strong. I dealt with succubi in a daily basis. With pride, I had grown some sort of immunity to their scent. But The succubi controlled aura, this raw and powerful. Nothing like theirs.

I should have brought some.

My hands snaked around the boy's small waist. Feeling for his skin, hidden under his poor garment. My mind got heavy as I got a whiff of his scalp. I looked down at him and saw his exposed nape, beckoning me to take a bite.

"Ammm," the little boy groaned as I grabbed his inner thigh.

Instantly I withdrew. Stopping myself before anything bad happen. With great anguish, I took him of my lap and sat him across me.

"Damn," I inhaled deeply. Controlling my beating heart. "You really are something."

I looked at the boy. His face flushed red as he fidgeted with his fingers. Flustered from my probing hand. Guess that was why he was emitting such a strong scent.

My lips curled to a grin. He was perfect. His innocent, boyishly handsome look. His captivating eyes. And his strong alluring scent. A perfect addition to the Temple.

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