Cyprian jerked awake in dread, soaked in sweat from the dream that was all very vivid. He could still feel those icy fingers running up the inside of his thigh, see those dark eyes and feel the yearning within him for more. These desires weren’t new to him in the slightest. It was the belief of Roman people that a slave or servant, whether male or female was there to gratify their masters or mistresses in whichever way the master or mistress deemed.

That being said, Noblemen were not to go with anything other than slaves and servants or entertainers.

If they happened to fall in love or have a little liaison with another nobleman, they brought dishonor to their families. This dream, this desire again, was very wrong for Cyprianus to have considering the man in his dream was no entertainer and not any slave or servant he knew of. The other reason it was especially wrong is that he had the distinct impression that he was to be submissive to the red-eyed devil.

The midnight air was crisp and cool as it came through the tent flaps, washing through his hair as if to chase away the heated thoughts in his mind now. Everything was okay. His rational mind took over from where the dream had left him in a fit state of panic. ....Then the first scream echoed from outside his tent and his sibling sleeping close by him jerked awake, like a rising corpse from the grave. Cyprianus scrambled from his bed.

He knew within seconds of when he heard that scream that things were not okay. They were in trouble and not the kind they could so easily fight. He didn’t pause to wonder about the dream or the fact that he’d been made to wake soon after it. He just knew there was a sense of dread in him, rising and telling him to move. “What was that?!” Livius cried worriedly moving from bed at a slower pace than his sibling. Cyprianus stopped the boy before he could start dressing to go outside.

“There is no time for that. Be quiet.” Cyprianus hissed under his breath, his eyes wide and wild with the remains of the dream in his head still floating around and threatening to consume him with fear.His hand tightened around Livius’s wrist as the air became filled with screams of terror and fear. The young men kept eye contact for the longest time before Cyprianus finally moved to the tent flap to peek out through the slit. He could see nothing. The darkness was as thick as the screams around them and then everything grew still.

Livius was right beside him, hovering close against his side naturally the uncertain young boy Cyprianus had come to know and protect, eager for news of what Cyprianus was witnessing but nothing came to light because no sooner had the screams stopped when Cyprianus stumbled from the tent opening, dragging his brother with him, to the very back of the tent. The gust of wind that came rushing through the tent sent Cyprianus stumbling. He was coming, the man from his dreams, with her, the flame-haired witch, and another dark-haired male he did not recognize from any dream. This one had curly hair from the quick glance he could get and seemed almost oblivious, child-like in manner. They were coming for him! Like they promised!

Cyprianus’s mind flashed back over details of the dream. There was no stopping to pick out what these monsters could do. All Cyprianus knew was that he and Livius were in grave danger. Forget the thought of premonition. Cyprianus fell into a cold body and struggled to his feet, only to be aided in the action by a pair of strong hands.

Livius’s wrist was yanked from his hand before he could see who was behind him and the younger boy screamed in horror before becoming silent in the arms of the Child-like man. A pair of arms wrapped neatly around Cyprianus’s own shoulders in return as he attempted to rush forward and rescue his younger brother. The set of arms held a struggling Cyprianus against the iron-like body causing him to still too when he felt those cold lips touch his ear once more like in the dream. His body tensed instantly as a fragment of the dream came to him. In the dream, the lips of these creatures gave way to fangs that would pierce the skin. He stilled in silent horror when he remembered this fragment of the dream.

The feeling, even in his dream had been both paralyzing and euphoric. His eyes widened on his brother when the child-like man holding Livius in his arms, brought his own lips to Livius’ neck. Livius’s eyes widened instinctively but while Cyprianus began to struggle, Livius fell still instantly.

“No!” The cry of horror was cut short when a set of sharp razor-like teeth tore right into his own skin. His face tightened in a grimace and then everything faded. Sweet euphoria rushed into him taking over his mind. He relaxed into the body behind him, desire for the bite building within him. His head fell back against the shoulder of the demon. With each pull of his blood into the demon’s mouth, he fell into a state of pure bliss. Darkness took over his mind.