Zyra had fallen to the ground a total of fifty-six times in the last seven days. Out of those times, Medean had failed to catch her four times.
Two of the incidents occurred because she had bounced off an air current, causing her to fly off into a random direction. The third happened because Medean had been called away for a moment.
"Go," Caligula said shrugging. "We will wait to resume the lesson."
Medean gave him a look and shuffled away. Zyra might have been on the ground for a minute before he vaulted her into the air. The last time had been pure misfortune, Medean just wasn't quick enough.
Currently she was lying on the forest floor, wondering what she had done to deserve this. Honestly Zyra wasn't sure whom this exercise was punishing more, her bruised and abused body, or Medean's sense of self worth. There was a haunted look in his eyes every time he had come to retrieve her as she cursed Caligula back through his generations. She had gotten pretty far. As of late she cursed his great great grandfather's father.
"Mistress!" Medean burst through the trees that she had landed near, narrowly missing the trunks themselves. "Dear Maker...!"
He reached down to her and pulled her into a sitting position.
Zyra groaned pitifully."Medean...if you have any love for me at all, please..."
"Please what, Miss?"
"
Kill him
."
"Aren't
you
dramatic? Clearly spending too much time with Etaceh."
They both frowned as Caligula walked into the clearing. He waved a hand and Zyra floated out of Medean's arms to fly in front of him. Before either of them could protest, Medean made a claw with his hand and turned his wrist in a circle. She shrieked as her bones crunched.
"There," he said smirking. "Back in place. That should do it, no?"
He placed her on the ground and she stood shakily, glaring at him with hate.
"Tell me one more time why this is important?" Zyra challenged. "Tell me just
one
more time."
Caligula rolled his eyes. "If you don't learn how to get down, how could I teach you how to fly?"
"Why...the
fuck
would I need to fly?"
Caligula sighed. "Humans. One day it's all you can think about, and now you couldn't care less. Creating devices to fly, gluing wings to yourself, fickle. That's what you all are."
Zyra hated when he talked like that. "What are you saying?"
"Ignore it girl, it's beyond you."
Zyra tried to strike him, but she was slower than normal. Caligula side-stepped her, snorting at her pathetic attempt.
"Go rest Zyra. We will continue to do this until you get it right. Etaceh says you are progressing in elemental magic. It is in your best interest to learn flight. Then, perhaps we can begin preparations for your first mission."
She growled at him, considering if she could muster a burst of energy.
Medean's cool hand rested on her shoulder.
"Come Miss," he said softly. "I will prepare dinner for you while you soak in the hot spring."
Zyra looked at him and her expression softened. With a heavy sigh she followed him out of the forest.
Caligula watched this exchange with disdain. There was something different about Medean and Zyra's relationship as of late. They had gotten closer somehow. The ease in which Medean touched her, in which he caught her without resistance or grudge from either party implied...
No, he dared not contemplate what it implied. The idea that Medean could succeed where he had failed was impossible. He was power
personified.
Even Zyra could not deny that. Let her sow her wild oats. Soon enough she would be his.
-
"No...it hurts...do it slower...not like that...
not like that!
"
"Miss, you need to hold still."
"But it
hurts
."
"Surely it doesn't hurt unbearably."
"Almost!"
"Which is why this is necessary."
"...is that your
elbow
?"
"Yes, Miss."
Medean kneaded Zyra's sore achy back with steady purposeful hands. Apparently, their purpose was to kill her.
She groaned, rolling her head side to side. "If I had known you were going to finish me off, I would have kept my clothes on."
Medean chuckled. "Caligula was right. You
have
been spending too much time with Etaceh."
The hot water of the spring lapped at her waist as she leaned on the moist stone edge. Medean pressed his hands into her back, easing up the pressure. Sleeping with him had lowered her guard considerably. Now Zyra no longer cared if he followed her to her bath. She wasn't open with him viewing her body, but she wasn't actively avoiding him either. They had long platonic talks that he quite enjoyed.
Medean hadn't expected to have this kind of relationship with Zyra, but he could see she benefited from it. Above all her needs, Zyra needed companionship, someone to keep her grounded, to touch her, to hold her. The more she told him about upbringing, the more he understood that Zyra had never been alone. They were like a pack of wolves. Zyra could pretend to be a lone wolf, but she had no idea what being a lone wolf was like.
He was jolted out of his train of thought when he felt Zyra wriggling in protest.
"Have your hands always been this hard?" she whined.
He rolled his eyes. "Fine, I release you."
Zyra sighed in relief. "Thank you."
She turned around, the tops of her breasts treading the water.
Medean felt himself stir at the sight of her. There was one thing that had also occurred after he'd pleasured her. She hadn't let him enter her again. He wondered if she had lost all urges due to some misstep in his technique. The thought made him want to prove himself to her. He watched as she dunked underwater, shaking herself like a canine.
"Do you feel better?"
She glared at him. "Your elbow was in my
back
. What do you think?"
He took a tiny step forward.
"If you are sore miss I can apply a cooling spell."
She scoffed. "I tire of you witches and your spells." She watched as he took another step forward and put a hand against the wall beside her. He put a hand on her cheek, his eyes filled with concern and...ill intentions? She wasn't sure anymore.
"Are you in pain Miss?"
She swallowed, his nakedness making her more aware of her own.
"I'm fine Medean," she barked. She pushed his hand away and swam out farther. "Now lay off."
"I believe you need something to help you relax," he hummed. "Perhaps a stretch would benefit you."
Her head snapped in his direction. "I swear to the Maker and all that he stands for that is you make any such attempt I will not hesitate to
drown
you."
Medean chuckled. "Are you not in pain Mistress? Or is it less severe than I supposed?"
She narrowed her eyes. "I fell hundreds of feet from the sky. I should be dead! I hurt...
everywhere
."
"Oh dear, everywhere?"
"Yes everywhere you
fuckta
manu..." Her insults were cut off when Medean lifted her out of the water. She covered herself, furious.
"Medean! Have you lost your mind!" The air was humid, but cooler than the pool. Her nipples pebbled immediately.
Medean stepped between her legs, his head level with her pussy.
"If I do not have leave to stretch you, perhaps I might offer my services in another way?"
Zyra pushed a hand on his head. "Medean—"
"Increasing your blood flow will assist your recovery, and flooding your system with endorphins will ease the pain."
Her body began to sing with arousal. Dammit, not now.
Medean's perfect mask looked up at her innocently. She wondered what he really felt.
"Is any of your babble speak true? You just want me for you own selfish desires don't you?"
Medean smiled. "Why mistress, you think so little of me."
Before she could say the horrid retort he had set up so easily for her, he ducked his head between her legs.
Zyra gasped, her body quivering in pleasure. She tried to glare at Medean, but she began sliding backwards. She placed her hands behind her, covering her breasts from his sight. Like that would make any difference. She must have looked ridiculous. Of course it was then that Medean decided to look at her.
Eying her he chuckled, the vibrations humming against her clit.
"
Oh
..."
Medean lifted her legs over his shoulders and slid her towards him. He pressed his face down, his tongue swirling in her folds, his nose brushing her clit. She shook, her orgasm coming fast.
"Medean..." Zyra breathed. "Stop...someone will see us."
He didn't respond, continuing to work. She looked into his calm, rational eyes and groaned in frustration. It was like being pleasured by a slab of marble; emotionless, effective marble. It infuriated her. He was never fazed. He had barely blushed when he'd fucked her, and every time he touched her she cried out like a hungry child. He pressed a finger inside her and she hissed.
"Mistress?"
Damn him, damn him and his talented hands. She pushed him back down.
"Less talking servant, more blood flow."
"
Yes
