The wrath of a nymph

Inside the back room, Millia was leaning against the wall, her legs trembling and her body on fire. Her heart was racing, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She could feel her juices dripping down her thighs, and her clit was throbbing with need. She squeezed her thighs together, trying to ease the ache, but it only made it worse. Biting her lip, her hands clenched into fists, she fought the desire threatening to consume her.

Her body ached for release, lust fogged her mind. She could hear the music pounding in her ears, the beat matching the throbbing of her clit. She could smell the sweat and arousal of the crowd, mingling with her own. And she could taste the desire on her tongue, sweet and addictive.

Millia moaned, her head falling back against the wall. “Oh, you vile brute,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I will see that you're punished for this, mortal. Just you see.”

She slipped a hand between her thighs, her fingers seeking out the sensitive pink bud above the parted lips. And then Jack’s words came back to her, his warning, and she pulled the hand back, her whimper turning into a groan of frustration.

“Fuck,” Millia whispered, having heard the word used as a curse more than a few times since descending, while slamming her fist against the wall. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

She stood there, her body trembling, her desire raging inside her as she closed her eyes, trying to focus on anything but the need that was burning her up from the inside out. But it was no use. She was too far gone, too lost in the fog of lust.

She was going to break.

"You know what, brute. You'll just have to forgive me. Or... punish... me..." Her voice trailed off as she sat down on the couch, spreading her thighs and letting her fingers move in between her legs again, seeking out the sweet release that she so desperately needed. She couldn't stop herself, couldn't resist the urge any longer. And then, as she slipped her fingers between the folds of her wet slit, she felt something cold an sharp place itself against her throat.

A dagger.

“Well well, what do we have here?" The voice of a woman, melodic and raspy, reached her ears, making her stop in her tracks. "Aren't you a naughty little girl?"

Millia froze, her eyes snapping open. Slender fingers with nails of deep red, held the dagger firmly anchored beneath her chin, forcing her head to keep up. A perfume similar to jasmine tickled her nose. She licked her lips, heart racing.

“Who are you?” she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady.

The woman chuckled, her breath hot against Millia's neck. “Oh, sweet girl, I think the question is, who are you?”

Millia swallowed, feeling the blade dig into her skin. “I… I’m just a bartender,” she said, her voice shaking slightly.

“Just a bartender?” The woman repeated, her tone mocking. “Who's known by the stars and the moon and the very wind itself? Who has the scent of the sea and the earth?" She pressed the blade harder against Millia's throat. "Very well. Who's the old man with a leash around your heart? Who is he, that has you on your knees?"

Millia's eyes widened, fear and confusion flooding her. “How do you know about… that?”

The woman laughed again, the sound sending shivers down Millia's spine. “I know many things, little one. I know your scent, I know your taste. And now I know your heart, and with it your fears. Tell me, who is he to you? The one who's got you in such tight bondage that even with a knife against your throat, all you can think of is his safety?" Millia felt the tip of the blade tracing a pattern against her neck, tickling her skin. "And I know his scent too. I can smell it on you. I smell it in the air. You and the one with the scent of war. Tell me who he is, and I'll make his **** quick."

Millia felt her heart and body grow calm, a cool ice settling over her skin as a blizzard of fury raged inside her core. “If you touch him, you will face the wrath of the forest, the earth, the wind and the water. I will bring ruin upon you and your family, your entire lineage will be wiped off the face of the earth, and your souls will wander in eternal darkness, never finding the Elysium Fields or the Asphodel Meadows. And your **** will be slow. You will beg me for it, and I will laugh as I watch your life leave your pathetic body.”

The woman hissed, the blade against Millia's throat pressing harder. "Big words for such a small girl," she sneered. "But then again, you aren't a girl, are you? You're not even human." The blade traced a line across Millia's skin, drawing a thin line of blood. "What are you, little girl? Tell me, and maybe I'll spare your chainer."

But Millia had already been whispering to the room. To the plants, the flowers, the thin trees and bushy shrubs decorating the walls and corners and shelves.

They were eager to offer help, having never met a legged creature able to speak their tongue before, and curious about this concept of friendship she offered in return for their help. When Millia formed a link of energy between them, one allowing them to grow with intent without dependence of neither sun, water or time, they accepted without hesitation.