Page 10 of Up from the Earth

And then I came out through the first opening I’d used. I had traded places, but I had not left The Queen’s chamber.

Turning toward her, seeing now that she stood watching me with a smirk painted over her crimson lips, I glared.

“Let me leave. I need to return home.”

I tried the passage once more, then again, and again, and again, and again.

My lungs burned. I’d sprinted with everything left in my already exhausted body. Crumbling to the floor, the cool stone felt like heaven against my cheek. As I continued to heave for breath, unsure if I’d ever see the world stop spinning, I shook and reached for my ears. I’d sensed warmth on my neck, and sure enough, I pulled back fingers stained with red.

The echo in the in-between space was too much for me to take. I could still hear the melody playing in the throne room, clear if ringing, as my equilibrium settled. Still, the pain was far from gone.

And then she was there, standing just inches from my face, her pale, shadowy skin coated in a thin layer of blood just on her feet.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Silly little seedling. It is not for you to go that way. You, Cerridwen Adaire Locke, must stay.”

I was hauled to my feet, her tendrils of hair anchoring me to the floor at my ankles and holding my arms out to the side. The strands were under her complete control, and The Queen could use them down to the most dextrous, detailed movements. I felt trust-up like a prisoner, the Queen’s captive human. Stranger still, while terror continued to loom in my blood, there was something else.

Something that made me tingle with wanton heat from head to foot.

Pat, pat, pat.

The sound of her steps hitting the floor reminded me of leaving the bath still dripping wet and walking across the tile to retrieve a towel. The Queen’s blood was the water this time, and small red footprints dotted the stone floor as she circled me, weaving through her strands of hair like a graceful orb-weaver.

My skin prickled with goosebumps, and from somewhere unseen, a gentle breeze wafted over my skin. It was frigid, making my flesh prickle, and the taught pull of my nipples was so intense it was nearly painful.Gods, it feels almost…good as well.

“I have waited so long for you to arrive, little seed,” her voice slipped between the threads holding me to lavish my body with their power; I trembled, “since before you were even born.”

“What are you talking about? Why would you—”

But the words dried up in my throat as The Queen stepped closer, tickling her claws over the skin of my arms, toying with the sleeve of my nightdress before hooking it around the curve of my neckline. I couldn’t help but look down at where she touched me, seeing just how exposed I was beneath this almost translucent fabric. The room was somehow humid even though it was so chilly, and the moisture had clung to my gown, making the fabric stick to my curves, revealing some of the light peach of my skin.

“Just look at how your body responds to me.” The edge of The Queen’s nail found my nipple, coming up from beneath it to flick the sensitive skin, making me gasp. “My innocent girl longs for my touch.”

What was happening? How was I in this realm at all, let alone the chosen victim of some great and terrible monarch? Why…why was she right?

Every inch of me thrummed with a longing need I’d yet to experience before. It had always been just out of grasp, too far away for me to take in my hands. Now, though, whatever this dark entity was doing to me, regardless of form it seemed, was so potent and authentic that I could feel its magic coursing through my veins like a drug.

She was behind me again, and her lips pressed to the fluttering pulse in my throat. The Queen smiled against my skin, her short fangs teasing me. Reflexively, I tried to clamp my legs together but was stopped by the hold she had on me. It was so odd to be bound, so terrifying, but I would be lying if I’d said it was only that.

What is wrong with me? This can’t be right.

“You’re justachingfor me to dig my claws into you, my fangs,” their points scratched over my skin, threatening puncture, “aren’t you, little seed? You want my pain and pleasure mingling in your blood. My sweet, sweet Cerri. So very muchmine.”

There was no hope for a response. I was too far gone by whatever magic she was weaving through me with her spider-like machinations. Fangs just pierced my skin, and I moaned as a light-headed ecstasy began to fill me up. Her warm palms found my breast, so slight compared to hers, and gripped hard, demanding my body for her own. I squirmed uselessly in the threads of hair that held me still, her tiny trapped insect to play with.

Suction pulled on my neck, and I knew she was swallowing me down. Then, a tongue swept over the injury, leaving me with a tingling sense that focused in on the injury. Warmth dribbled down my throat, staining the pristine white of my nightdress, my blood a contrast to the pale color.

The Queen's lips followed the rogue trail of my spilled essence, lower and lower until they closed around my nipple, the fabric of my gown growing warm and wet as she suckled at me. She nipped at the pert bud, and my thighs fought to clench once more—deeper reaches of me clamping down around nothing.

“Trying so hard to close up.” She slid her hands around my sides and then down to the curves of my ass, her claws laying pinprick attacks on me. “You won’t, little seed. You’ll open up and give it all to me, what belongs to me.”

Faster than I could track, The Queen stood, snatched my long hair in her grasp, and hovered her blood-stained lips over my own. The pinch in my scalp was fierce, but none so more as the glorious humming that wormed through me as this incredible being almost kissed me.

It was so close, nearly there, but it was far more of a tease than a true kiss. My head was craned back as The Queen controlled me by my hair. The strands of her own tightened, biting into my flesh. She spoke against my mouth, her breath warming my skin.

“How will I find you, little seed?” The Queen’s free hand snaked down my stomach, sneaking down to the inside of my thigh. “Are you wet for me?”

She chuckled. “I know you are. I can smell it. I can smell that sweet arousal painting your thighs, the slippery slick of your cunt dripping for me.”

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