Hera the shiki queen, reincanation

At the restaurant, they settled into a cozy booth near the window. The morning light caught Cortney's hair, making it glow as she studied the menu. Bryce watched her, a lazy smile on his face. Bryce- "You know, last night was..." Cortney- "Unexpected?" she finished, looking up with a grin. "But good. Really good." He reached across the table, his fingers brushing hers. "Yeah. Really good." They ordered coffee and pancakes, the conversation flowing easily between bites. As they finished eating, Bryce paid the bill while Cortney excused herself to the restroom. When she returned, he was waiting by the entrance, his hands in his pockets. Bryce- "So... what now?" Cortney stepped closer, close enough that he could smell her perfume. "I was thinking we could go back to the room. Maybe watch some TV?" Her voice was casual, but her eyes held a different invitation. Bryce felt his pulse quicken. They walked back in silence, the elevator ride feeling like an eternity. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, Cortney turned to face him. Cortney- "I don't want to watch TV." She stepped forward, her hands sliding up his chest. Bryce caught her waist, pulling her against him. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, hungry and desperate, all the unspoken words of the morning pouring into that single moment. Her fingers tangled in his hair as his hands roamed her back, pressing her closer until there was no space left between them. When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, Cortney's cheeks were flushed. Cortney- "Okay, maybe we can watch TV later." Bryce laughed, his forehead resting against hers. "Definitely later." They stumbled toward the bed.

They fell onto the mattress , their bodies tangling together as they landed. Bryce's hands found the hem of Cortney's shirt, pulling it up and over her head in one smooth motion. She arched her back, helping him remove it, then reached for the buttons on his jeans. Within moments, clothes were discarded, scattered across the floor. They get naked, skin against skin, the warmth of the morning sun now forgotten as the heat between them grew. Bryce traced his fingers down her side, feeling her shiver beneath his touch. Cortney rolled on top of him, her hair falling around them like a curtain, and leaned down to kiss him Cortney- "I could get used to this." Bryce pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Me too."

He rolled them over, pinning her beneath him. His hand slid down her stomach, between her legs, finding her already wet. She gasped as his fingers worked, her nails digging into his shoulders. Bryce positioned himself at her entrance "Ready?" he whispered. She answered by pulling him down into a kiss as he pushed inside her. They both groaned into each other's mouths as he filled her completely. He began to move, slow at first, building a rhythm that had her arching off the mattress. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper. The room filled with the sounds of their bodies meeting, of breathless moans and whispered encouragements. "Harder," she breathed against his ear. He obliged, driving into her with increasing urgency. Her hands found his ass, gripping as he thrust, her nails leaving crescent marks on his skin. The bed creaked beneath them as their pace quickened. Cortney's moans grew louder, more desperate. Bryce could feel her tightening around him, her body trembling as she approached the edge. "Come for me," he grunted, his own release building. She cried out, her back bowing off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed through her. The sensation pushed him over the edge, and he buried himself deep inside her, groaning her name as he came. They lay there, tangled and breathless, the only sound their ragged breathing. After a long moment, Bryce lifted his head, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "Definitely better than TV."

Cortney laughed, swatting his chest playfully. "We should probably get dressed at some point. I'm starving." Bryce rolled off her, landing on his back with a contented sigh. "Room service?" "Or we could go out. See what this island is really about." She propped herself up on an elbow, looking down at him. "We've been holed up in here for almost a full day." He considered it, then nodded. "Alright. Let's explore." They showered together, the hot water washing away the evidence of their morning activities. Dressed in casual clothes—shorts and light shirts for the tropical heat—they left the room and stepped out of the hotel. The air hit them immediately, thick with humidity and the scent of salt and something else, something floral and sweet. The hotel sat at the edge of a small village, its cobblestone streets winding between colorful buildings with terracotta roofs. Palm trees swayed in the breeze. "This is beautiful," Cortney said, slipping her hand into Bryce's. They walked down the main street, past a bakery that smelled of fresh bread and cinnamon, past a small shop selling handmade jewelry and trinkets. The villagers moved about their day, some casting curious glances at the tourists, others too absorbed in their own routines to notice. As they rounded a corner, they saw a crowd gathered in the town square. A makeshift stage had been erected, decorated with flowers and ribbons. A man stood on it, speaking in a language Bryce didn't recognize, his voice carrying a solemn tone. "What's going on?" Cortney whispered. An elderly woman beside them, her skin weathered by the sun, glanced over. "The festival of the chosen," she said in accented English. "Tonight, last night 4 lucky was chosen by the father to accrnd" Bryce and Cortney exchanged a look. "The chisen?" Bryce asked. The woman nodded, her eyes distant. "Every year, the father and hus accend chose lucky festival goers to accend from our village and the tourists. We hold this festival to honor Hera, queen of the shiki., to be chisen , to accend to her side." She pointed toward the stage. "The priest is now bkessing the stage in her honor were the chosen accended last night" Cortney squeezed Bryce's hand. "That's... intense." "It is our way," the woman said simply, then turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd. Bryce watched her go, then looked back at the stage. The priest had finished speaking and now stood with his hands raised, the crowd bowing their heads in prayer, the stage seems to have a red tint to it in 4 spots. "Should we stay for it?" Cortney asked. "Yeah," Bryce said slowly. "I think we should." They found a spot on the edge of the square, leaning against a low stone wall as the ceremony continued. The priest chanted, the villagers responded in unison, their voices rising and falling like waves. Incense burned, its smoke curling upward, carrying the prayers to the sky. As the sun began to sink toward the horizon, the crowd began to move, flowing like a river toward the forest.

Bryce and Cortney hesitated, watching the crowd surge forward. The energy had shifted, becoming something darker, more urgent. The chanting grew louder, more insistent, and the incense smoke seemed to cling to them, thick and cloying., floral in smell. Cortney tugged on Bryce's hand, pulling him back. "This feels wrong," she said, her voice barely audible over the growing din. "Let's return to the hotel." Bryce looked at the crowd, at the villagers now carrying torches that had been lit, their flames casting dancing shadows across the square. The priest had descended from the stage and was leading the procession, his voice rising in a fevered chant. "Yeah," Bryce agreed, a knot forming in his stomach. "Let's go." They turned and walked quickly back the way they had come, leaving the ceremony behind. The sounds of the festival faded as they moved through the winding streets, replaced by the chirping of crickets and the distant crash of waves against the shore. The hotel came into view, its lights warm and welcoming. They hurried inside, past the empty lobby—the staff, too, had apparently joined the festival—and up the stairs to their room. Once inside, Cortney locked the door and leaned against it, letting out a shaky breath. "That was... creepy." Bryce went to the window, pulling the curtain aside just enough to see out. In the distance, the torchlight flickered through the trees, moving deeper into the forest. "What do you think happened to the chosen ones?" "I don't want to know," Cortney said, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist. "I just want to forget about it." He turned, pulling her into his arms. "Room service and a movie?" She smiled, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "That sounds perfect."

After they finished their meal and the movie credits rolled, Cortney's eyelids grew heavy. Bryce had already drifted off beside her, his breathing slow and even. She curled into his side, letting the warmth of his body and the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat lull her toward sleep. The dream came without warning. She stood in a clearing deep within the forest, the same forest the villagers had marched toward with their torches. Moonlight finside is more like a rainforest jungle hybrid. The air was thick with that same floral incense, cloying and sweet. A figure emerged from the shadows. She was tall, with skin pale as ivory, almost luminous in the moonlight. Her hair cascaded in dark waves past her shoulders, and her lips were the color of crushed berries. She was completely naked,yet not ashamed, But it was her eyes that held Cortney captive—blackened sclera with irises of deep, smoldering crimson, like embers burning in a void. Hera. The name surfaced in Cortney's mind unbidden, whispered by a voice that was not her own. "I chose you..as my vessell," Hera said, her voice a melodic purr that seemed to resonate in Cortney's bones. "All the chosen ones not right, not me." Hera purred, her form shifting, to be looking identical to Cortney . "True me, you..my reincarnation..perfect vessel " Cortney tried to speak, to ask what she meant, but her voice had abandoned her. Her body felt weightless, disconnected from her will. Hera approached, her movements fluid, predatory. She reached out, her fingers tracing along Cortney's jawline, tilting her chin upward. Her touch was cold, sending shivers cascading down Cortney's spine. "Don't be afraid," Hera whispered, leaning in close. Her breath was cool against Cortney's skin, carrying the scent of night-blooming jasmine and something metallic. "This is a gift." Hera's lips brushed against Cortney's neck, featherlight at first, then pressing harder. Cortney felt a sharp sting, a brief flash of pain that melted instantly into something else—a warmth that spread from the point of contact, flooding through her veins like honeyed fire. A moan escaped Cortney's lips as Hera drank, her mouth working against her throat. The sensation was intoxicating, pleasure and ecstasy intertwining until Cortney could no longer tell where one ended and the other began. Her knees buckled, but Hera caught her, lowering her gently to the moss-covered ground. Hera's mouth released her neck, leaving a cool, tingling spot. She hovered above Cortney, her crimson eyes burning with hunger and desire. "You taste of chosen" Hera breathed. "Of passion. You were always meant to join me, merge with me, become my new body, you and i one, memories and of both" Cortney reached up, her fingers tangling in Hera's dark hair, pulling her closer. Their lips met, and Cortney tasted copper and sweetness on Hera's tongue. Hera's hands roamed her body, undressing her with supernatural speed, her cold touch leaving trails of fire on Cortney's heated skin. Hera's mouth traced a path down Cortney's throat, across her collarbone, lower still. Cortney arched into her, gasping as Hera's lips , no her lips since she is her frim a past life. found her breasts, her tongue circling and teasing before her fangs grazed the sensitive skin, sending another wave of that addictive pleasure-pain through her. "Please," Cortney heard herself whimper, though she wasn't sure what she was asking for. Hera's laugh was a soft, dark melody against her skin. "Patience. The night is young." Her mouth continued its descent, trailing kisses and gentle bites down Cortney's stomach, her hips. When she reached the apex of Cortney's thighs, Cortney cried out, her fingers gripping Hera's hair as Hera's tongue found her center, cold and skilled and devastating. The pleasure built, overwhelming, consuming, until Cortney shattered beneath Hera's touch, her body trembling with the force of her release. Hera rose above her, her lips glistening, her crimson eyes triumphant. "Now," Hera whispered, lowering her mouth to Cortney's neck once more. "Sleep, my chosen. And when you wake, remember that you belong to me vessel" Cortney felt the fangs pierce her skin again, and the world dissolved into a sea of stars. She woke with a gasp, sitting bolt upright in the hotel bed. The room was dark, the curtains drawn, Bryce still sleeping peacefully beside her. Her skin was slick with sweat, her heart pounding against her ribs. She touched her neck, expecting to find wounds, but her skin was smooth and unbroken. Yet she could still feel the phantom sensation of Hera's lips against her throat, still taste the copper and jasmine on her tongue. And between her legs, she was wet and aching, the remnants of the dream's pleasure still thrumming through her body. Cortney lay back down, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing. It was just a dream, she told herself. Just a dream. But in the darkness, she could still see those crimson eyes burning, the face of the other her.of hera, a woman that looks exactly like her, just with dark hair, and those black eyes with crimson irises. Should she tell bryce about this, or try and forget it happened.