The Battered Lamp Chapter Seventeen: The Decision of the Mother - Sex Stories

The Battered Lamp Chapter Seventeen: The Decision of the Mother

... spell on him. She froze at that thought. That one witch had escaped at the cabin? Was she out for revenge or were there other enemies of Kyle's that they did not know about? Fear clutched her heart. She scrambled off the bed, grabbing her stuff. She had to get out of here. Whomever had enchanted Ando would be coming to investigate his work. “I'm sorry, Ando,” she whispered as she grabbing her cloths from off the floor, his cum leaking down her legs. She didn't have time to clean up. She needed to get to the hot spring as fast as possible so she could get back to Kyle. She pulled on her thick snow pants, two heavy sweaters and a thick jacket. She opened the case that held Windfeather, drawing the yumi out. The bow was the most finely crafted yumi she had ever possessed, the dark wood inlaid with a strange, green metal that didn't harm the bow's flex at all. She could suddenly feel the air swirling in the room, sense the subtle eddies and currents thanks to the bow. Fumi almost went out the front door, but her fear stopped her, freezing her gloved hand on the knob. What if they're outside? They could be watching. I need to be smart. She retreated to the bathroom, opening the window. She was on the second floor and peered out at the snowy ground below. More snow fell, black specks in the darkness. She drew on the bow, forming a wind blowing up the side of the building, snow whipping into her face, and leaped out. She floated like a feather to the ground, cradled by her wind, ...

... landing in the calf-high snow. She had memorized the map. The trail to the hot spring should be to her left. She set out into the snowy night, fear hammering in her heart. I'm running through a snowy mountainside. Didn't I dream something like that? She tried to remember the dream she had on the plane. But she had been so tired. She vaguely remembered that she was stumbling blind through the snow, being hunted by something. “I'm not blind. It must have just been a coincidence.” She threw a look over her shoulder anyways. All she saw was snow falling, burying her footsteps. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Zaritha hated the snow. She was a being of fire, haunting the deserts. This freezing water irked her. She stood in the falling snow, the delicate flakes flashing into steam right before touching her skin. The drift she stood in had melted, steam rising about her, exposing the green grassy verge beside the plowed road, her eyes fixed on the hotel room. It had been two hours since Ando had entered the motel room. She had told the human to make her suffer. Surely she had suffered enough in this amount of time. Worry began eating at her. She cursed the rules that creation had placed on her race. Why had they been given all their power if they couldn't use it how they pleased? Not like these barbarous humans. They could do what they want, creation didn't care. How she hated them all. Particularly her master. The slave bracers burned on her wrists, demanding that she go in there and ...