The Revenants: Part Three (special preview)

Her eyes flick up to the door where Andrew is locked in. She begins to move, riding Harper with her hands firmly planted on his stomach. She cries out, gasping for breath as her nectar slips down Harper’s shaft.

“This feels so good,” she throws her head back. “Harper, tell me, do you like it? Are you happy?”

Harper’s fingers dig into her thighs, watching himself disappear inside her. His breath shudders as her heat wraps around him, coiling and tightening while also being soft and velvety. Her wetness spills as her voice becomes louder and elated.

“I am grateful,” Harper moves beneath her, pushing upwards and making her voice pitch louder. “Being inside you is always my greatest joy.”

Christabel’s fingers claw down his chest as her thighs begin to tremble. Her voice is loud and the air around them crackles. Harper’s fingers dig harder into her and pull her down while his hips surge upwards. He releases inside her while Christabel screams out into the night. The air swirls around them, hissing and popping while Harper continues to fill her.

Christabel gasps and everything goes still and quiet. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip and a smile spreads across her face. She reaches down, cupping her hand over her mound as she sits up. She then bends over, kissing Harper as he lays limp and powerless on the bed.

“You will stay inside me forever,” she whispers to him. Placing a kiss on his forehead, Harper falls into a deep sleep.

When he awakens, his body is sore and his legs feel weak. Getting up, he goes to the window and peers out into the world. Everything is still a withered gray, the sky is dark, and there are not many people to see. He goes to the room Andrew is in, going inside to find him naked on the floor.

If Christabel had wanted Andrew dead, she would have done it, no doubt in Harper’s mind. Harper knows that Andrew’s fate is to suffer through everything until the time comes for the sacrifices to be made to the Revenants. 

The finger of judgement. 

“How was she?” Andrew hisses from the floor. “How was my sweet, darling, little precious?” He rises off the ground, staring Harper down with a strange expression. “How was it, taking what was mine?”

“It was never yours,” Harper replies evenly. “You stole her and your crimes will be paid for shortly.”

Andrew lashes out, reaching for Harper’s throat, but he is easily swat aside by Harper’s powerful hand. He tumbles to the floor, crashing over the bedside table and landing at the foot of the bed. He starts to wail, sobbing pitifully.

“You’re a pathetic man,” Harper spits. “Disgusting.”

“You came inside her,” Andrew wails. “You ruined what was pure and mine! She is mine! I raised her! I loved her,” he sobs.

“I did more than that,” Harper whispers. “For years, she made a cuckold out of you. She has been in my bed more than you have ever dreamed of. My seed has been inside her before. I have known her and I will always know her.”

Andrew screams, jumping up to strike Harper again before the door is slammed in his face. He beats and claws against the wood, screaming. 

Harper is shocked by how good that felt. He leaves the house, going out onto the street and hoping for some sort of sign from Christabel. As he comes to the center of town, he sees the fountain is spewing black and at its foot is the High Priestess. She is standing there, looking up at it with her hands folded behind her back.

Harper approaches her, standing at her side while her hollow gaze remains unmoving. Her small hand then reaches out, taking hold of his.

“My son,” she whispers. “Tell me, is it my fault?”

“Yes,” Harper answers. “I’m afraid it is.”

The High Priestess squeezes his hand. “I thought so.” She closes her eyes. “I am not infalible. I am not always wise or strong. Despite who I am, I am often wrong.”

Harper turns to her, placing his hand on top of her head, moving his palm down along her soft hair until he places it on the nape of her neck.

“The Revenants have visited me,” she whispers softly. “I know why I have been spared.” She takes in a deep breath. “My name is written on the bone.”

“It is,” Harper replies as tears roll down his cheek.

The High Priestess nods. “The blood is on my hands. I’m ready.”

Harper pushes her, his fingers digging into her neck as he plunges her head under the black waters of the fountain. She kicks and writhes, clawing at his arm as the flurry of bubbles and foam rises to the surface. Harper holds her, unflinching as she tries to fight despite knowing her fate. He cries, sobbing as the bubbles decrease. As the water becomes still, he removes his hand from her and pulls her out of the water. Her youthful appearance is gone, replaced by that of her true self. Her old, haggard form curled up, her fingers gnarled and knobby from the years.

Harper lays her in his lap, rocking her as the Revenants come close. Their dark forms surround Harper, gazing down at the High Priestess’s dead body. Harper gazes up at them, watching their hollow faces before offering up the High Priestess’s body.

“The blood,” Lydia whispers.

“The first of what you have asked.” Harper stands from the ground as the High Priestess turns to ash. The dark clouds float up, swirling around the Revenants until there is nothing.

“Where is she now?” Harper asks of them. “Where is your daughter?”