An announcement before starting! Firstly, my deepest apologies for the incredibly long gap between publishing. I haven't stopped writing, but I am beginning to realize just how much is left to tell in Melina's story. It's gotten to the point where I'm considering publishing Spellbound as a full-blown novel, which, while terribly exciting for me, is a rather disappointing prospect for any readers here. Rest assured I will keep you all abreast of what I decide, and you shall have the remainder of the story one way or another.
For now, this will be the last chapter I plan to post. I will also be putting up a stand-alone short story, which may end up being used as a prologue if I can wedge it in somehow. Thank you all for reading!
***
Chapter 9
Melina sat straight and naked on the edge of the bed, delaying the inevitable. She could barely bring herself to look at the swirling black and brown of Chandra's sleeping form without feeling a wave of guilt. She yearned for another night like this, and for their circumstances to be different. The constant buzz of crickets and frogs near the water was the only sound besides their slow heartbeats, and the cool evening breeze had died hours ago.
After Melina had magicked Chandra to sleep, she'd tried so hard to remain entangled with both woman and sheets. But sharing the space had been uncomfortable enough to keep her mind from quieting, instead allowing it to return the guilt and hunger she'd been purposefully avoiding. She picked at her fingernails and steeled herself, finally willing the words to form in her head.
Altering memory was no small thing, though she had many years of practice in the art. True mastery required forethought of all possible implications of the act, and the vocabulary to execute that plan with all the delicacy it called for. Too much removed, and the subject may notice something was missing or inconsistent, and search for it. Too little, and they might be left with enough information to endanger Melina.
As she formulated her plan of action, she realized she would be unable to fully excise herself from Chandra's mind. There would be empty patches where events should have been, and plenty of other people to trigger her notice. How many had seen them leave the drinking hall arm-in-arm? How would Chandra explain away the dozen new bite marks and scratches on her body? And, most distressingly, what would she tell her companions when they inevitably asked how her night had gone?
Damn!
It simply wasn't feasible to hunt down and erase the memories of all involved.
That meant Melina would need to be more precise, and take more risks. But the increased danger had a silver lining: she would be remembered. Not as who she truly was, but as a one-time lover to a worthy human. Melina smiled, wondering if she might be able to see Chandra again someday, to see her writhe at the feeling of being stretched wide over smooth glass, and hear her deep voice moaning curses in another language.
The enchantment to alter her memories took Melina several minutes to voice, cutting out their conversation and her discoveries, but leaving their rough lovemaking. The delicate balance was a significant challenge, but she finally completed it with a command for her to sleep till morning. Chandra wouldn't notice the succubus's departure.
Melina spent the remainder of the night in a willow tree overhanging the river, its branches thick with enough new growth to obscure her from view. The dull roar of the river, high trill of frogs, and occasional whisper of leaves were as soothing as the plush pillows of Chandra's bed, and she was asleep in minutes. Throughout the night, her hands kept grasping at the bark beneath her, willing it to warm and comfort her in its arms.
***
The temple to Zodal was just over two miles away from the edge of Summergate, nestled in the foothills where the trees had begun to give way to scraggly bushes and weeds. While the temple itself was an intricate stone building, the surrounding complex housed three dozen monks in its widely sprawled, simple construction. Many walked to and from town daily in small groups, always clad in drab gray from head to toe.
Vasiliy was one of the few who did not raise any concern if he failed to return to his quarters each night. He spent enough time on groundskeeping duties to evade notice, but was otherwise found worshipping at the temple, or performing the actions which required such devout worship whilst in town. He was a short, slender man in his mid-thirties, with tanned skin, dark lips, and wide watery eyes. His close-cropped hair lent his face an illusion of innocence, while his actions concerning women were anything but.
He was the worst kind of lecher, targeting women who would either be too frightened or too disinterested to ensure he faced any consequences for his actions. He pinched, poked, peeked, and pestered at every opportunity, chasing the skirts of the prettiest girls his beady eyes could find. The man was infamous among the locals, constantly toeing the line for acceptable behavior, and occasionally stepping over enough to meet with severe punishment. But it never seemed to deter Vasiliy.
He was also a creature of habit, roaming into the same area of the woods at least once each day to relieve himself. He was always careful to be out of sight and hearing, so that he could softly moan women's names as he stroked his cock in shuddering motions. Sometimes he managed it twice in one venture, with little recovery between. Sometimes he cried after.
All while Melina watched silently from the trees above. She stalked his every move for three full days, staying just out of sight and analyzing his behavior for an opportunity. She'd learned purely by accident that Zodal's temple housed a sorcerer with the true sight: the ability to see things as they were, and to detect the usage of any nearby magic. He posed a formidable threat to Melina's anonymity, but thankfully didn't venture away from the temple itself. As long as Melina kept her distance, she was in no direct danger.
But it did complicate her plan to prey upon Vasiliy. She was uncertain of the range of the sorcerer's ability to detect a simple enchantment, and had no inclination to test it. She would need to be well away from both town and temple before using any of her abilities. And, she reminded herself, the man's mind would need to be unencumbered such that he could make a conscious decision to accept Melina's gift.
True, he would reek of monstrous magic when he returned, but by then it would be too late. And Melina would likely be leaving before anyone had the chance to question him.
She had caught Vardan's scent several times while in Summergate, but was careful to give him plenty of space. Melina wasn't certain she would react reasonably when next she saw him, considering how deeply he had insulted her. Though she had entertained the thought of leaving, never to see him again, she'd found it agonizing. There was too much she would regret, if she acted on impulse.
Towards the end of the second day, she'd visited the Pointed Shear to pick up a new set of clothing, whereupon they'd offered to wash the first set with barely-concealed revulsion. She'd accepted, and donned a slightly more restrictive pairing of bodice and dress. Though it practically immobilized her waist, it left her arms and legs just as free as the previous outfit had, and had a similar effect on the mind's eye.
At the end of the third day, her plan was already in motion. She'd used her charm to her advantage, manipulating a merchant and a watchman into believing she'd been a target of Vasily's perversions. That had kept him sufficiently occupied for several hours, while she hovered stealthily nearby, close enough to taste his building arousal. He was like a vessel which was constantly taking on water, barely able to bail it out enough to keep himself afloat.
When the sun had dimmed behind the mountains, and the evening breeze had chased away the worst of the afternoon heat, Vasiliy was a fragile dam ready to burst. With a head full of frustration, he set off away from town. Melina trailed silently with a daring smile on her face, at times venturing near enough to touch him. The desperate little man remained ignorant of his new shadow, and could not fathom how deeply Melina hungered for his cock.
When he began to slow and look around,Melina hid herself carefully, awaiting the right moment to strike. It arrived when Vasiliy took a prolonged breath and reached inside his robe, thinking himself alone. Melina pounced.
"Hello, good sir!" she cried, approaching noisily. Vasiliy spun to face her in utter shock, one hand still beneath the gray cloth. "Oh good evening, my priest! How lucky to have found you here. I am in need of your services," said Melina as she approached, pretending not to hear the low "damn it!" muttered by Vasiliy.