Living among mortals she could have anything she wanted. More comforts than anyone could imagine, a large estate, servants. It was all within her power. Apparently she didn't use her powers for personal gain. Interesting.
Arthur would want to know about this. He had, after all set Gawain to collect intelligence on the mortal world walker. It had to be accurate. And thorough.
Gawain was a perfect candidate for the mission. Older, never mated. Married to his job as the head of the Fae Prince's intelligence network. Prince Arthur wanted someone who would be believable as a widower. Alana's old clientèle. She had been famous for her... talents. He heard of her more than once in the last three hundred years.
"Its... nice." Gawain appraised as Alana returned from her bedroom clad in a simple but elegant blue silk robe.
Gawain's breath caught in his throat as he watched her walk to him. Job or no, she was beautiful. Her robe clung against her hips and breasts so thin that he could view her nipples taught beneath the fabric.
Alana strode up to him, only a few inches away her body tantalizing. She placed a hand upon his shoulder, caressing it as she responded, "Not what you expected, huh? I don't run a brothel here... Anymore."
Alana winked then grabbed his hand and pulled herself into his frame. His mouth watered as her firm curves pressed against his firm muscles. Regardless of what she did now this much was clear, she wanted him.
His orders were clear. Find out about the state of all her powers. Find out about how she uses humans. Not a body in 10 years. It was extremely unusual.
Still, Gawain played his part.
He wrapped an arm around her, his hand splayed out over the small of her back. It was strong, powerful, full against her soft petite frame.
"One rule," Alana requested, her eyes hard and serious, "No soul reading."
"I don't need to read your soul. You wear your pain in your eyes."
It was partially true. Anyone could see that she was lonely, hungry. Humans were not enough sustenance. Especially if she was letting them walk.
Those stormy eyes looked up at Gawain full of agitation and lust. He knew she would be desperate for Fae contact but he hadn't realized the strength of that need.
Gawain, on the other hand, did well for himself. He was able to conduct multiple arrangements with similar Fae spirits. Succubi were rare and powerful, so he had to make due with lesser nymphs and dryads. He made due.
Still this woman was beautiful and his appetites were strong.
Gawain bent down, his lips inches from hers. He smirked at her and growled "Do you want this?"
His voice was dark. Bordering on dangerous.
"I need this." Alana's face was serious. She was starving, depending on him for survival.
Well, he had no problem playing the hero.
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