Aurelian lunged out of the bed, his bare feet hitting the cold stone floor with a dull thud. He staggered toward the washbasin in the corner of the room, his messy blonde hair falling into his eyes as he gripped the porcelain rim so hard it groaned under his weight.
He splashed the freezing water directly onto his face, desperately trying to wash away the phantom taste of that thick, iridescent fluid from his tongue. But the cold water did nothing to soothe the frantic roaring in his ears.
I am the Emperor, his mind screamed, a desperate, clawing attempt to reassert his ego. I am the sovereign of Viremount. Everything beneath the sun belongs to me.
But as he looked up into the mirror, his reflection offered no comfort. His golden eyes were bloodshot, his lips slightly swollen, and his chest was marked with faint, dark smudges where the god's tanned fingers had dug into his shoulders during those first thrusts.
