The Succubus and her two Mates

20| Quiet Contemplation

*Warning: Drug use*

After Ronnie had finally calmed herself and got back in control, she’d smoked a couple of jays- she was glad she had bought so much- she was going to need it all- and had unpacked her portable speakers and was playing music. She had had enough foresight to grab an mp3 player from the club and bought a bunch of battery banks- not knowing how electricity worked here - even if it was the same thing. She loved music and didn't want to be without it. Her best estimate was she had a couple of weeks' worth.

Ronnie was feeling at peace just before dawn, she had taken some magic mushrooms at around 3am- at least she thought that was the time- that’s what showed up on her music player. She had pulled one of the lounges onto the balcony and was under a blanket watching the first sliver of dawn start to tickle the horizon. The stars here were bananas - no light pollution to dull them. She wondered if this was the same night sky as her home world. And if it wasn't, what connotation did that have? Was this world in another part of the same universe? Was it a completely different dimension?

She had a long pour of bourbon in her glass that she was sipping. She thought over and over the conversation the night before and assessed and reassessed her reaction to it. What did it matter what this Queen b***h thought of her. Well, she was the mother of one of the men she lo-. She loped that thought off. She had been slut-shamed her whole life. In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter, but there was that pit in her stomach.

Why doesn’t she like me?

The feelings she felt emanating from the Queen left an impression. She had been resentful. A constant feeling of being put out- when she was the one that wanted to have the damn meeting. And jealousy. Ronnie couldn't tell quite where it was directed.

She thought about her own inability to keep it together and what it could mean. Once again, wondering if it really was a matebond that attracted her to the two men. She hadn't lost control like that before. Times when she pushed herself and depleted her powers, but not even in moments of physical danger had she felt so out of control. She'd barely held it together long enough to get alone.

She was singing along to a song when a breeze picked up and rustled the trees. The movement in the low light caused her vision to pulse with her trip. A serene smile settled on her face as she thought of her big strong Dragon Shifter. She wanted Brock. She recalled the look on his face when she'd last seen him. If she hadn’t made them go she was going to blow her cover. At that moment, she thought she didn’t ever want to see them again. It had felt foreign and more part of her cursed side than any real conviction. She thought about Brock trying to kiss her before dinner. How happy he had been. He had been excited to introduce her to his parents. It made her shrink inside on how badly it had gone and how poorly she'd handled it afterward. They had warned her. One should never underestimate a Queen, Ronnie thought wryly.

With a sigh, she pulled herself to her feet and put her drink down on her way back inside her room. She was still wearing the dress but she had modified it, ripping the skirt and neckline- sleeves torn off. It had been quite a long time since she had had such a tantrum - she attributed it to her not being able to say anything to stand up for herself.

She should leave. She understood it objectively. She did not belong here. She wasn’t dumb. She was just doing a very dumb thing.

Ronnie took a quick shower, singing and dancing under the water. It made her think of both Brock and Brand. She dried herself off - finding a comfy nightgown to put on and went over to the little communicator Brand had mentioned. It looked like an antique clock, but instead of a face telling the time, it had a twirling of cogs. The magic that powered it was easy to sense.

She lent her face near it. “Brock?”

Feeling foolish, she put her hand on it. “Brock?”

Shaking her head, she closed her eyes and pictured his face. “Brock.”

Her voice was softer and more lolling. She didn’t call for him, she called to him.

After a few seconds, she heard his voice come from the device. “Ronnie?” She squealed in wonder. “Are you okay?”

“Yes yes.” She didn’t know what to say now.

After some time, Brock asked, “Can I come to you?”

When she didn’t respond straight away, he called her name.

“Yes,” she replied, “come here.”

“Just me?” He asked.

“Is Brand with you?”

“No.”

“Then, no. I’ll speak with him later.”

She tried to tidy up, but he got there within minutes and the best she could do was push some of the items she'd thrown about in her tantrum into her dressing room.

He was still wearing his suit from the night before, the vest open - the jacket long since discarded. He was searching her face for any indication of her feelings towards him.

She could tell that he had been drinking, and his eyes were red. Well, she had slaughtered a dress and was tripping pleasantly, so who was she to judge. Now that she could take a moment to check him out, he looked rugged with his dark beard that almost grew in just overnight. His short black hair was tussled.

“Ronnie. I want to apologise again. I spoke with my mother. I told her that she could not speak to you, or Brand, in that way ever again and that you would do whatever you want to do,” he was speaking rapidly.

She pointed for him to sit down, and he did it immediately, still rambling promises- afraid to stop speaking- afraid it left an opening for her to reject him.

She slowly took his jaw in her hand, her other hand coming to her lips in a silent motion. He stopped talking. His jaw was so grand. She gazed down at him as she rubbed his stubble with her thumb - she remembered what it felt like to have the feeling of his stubble between her legs.

He looked up at her in rapt attention. She felt her power over him. She had the strangest urge to drop her glamour, but she fought it - this was not the time.

“I came here for a purpose,” she spoke low.

“And what was that?” He asked with a whisper.

“To have you. Whenever I want,” she answered.

~*~