To Die for Him

“Syrian.” She said softly. Her silver eyes shone as she watched the man she loved more than anything in her world. His long black hair was pulled back and his beautiful crimson eyes returned her gaze. She walked forward and pressed her lips to his, letting her hand tangle in his long hair. He wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her, sitting her down in his lap as he kissed her. She was desperate for his touch, frantically trying to quell the fear that was rising in her chest. Her clawed hand easily sliced through his shirt and she kissed his chest.
Syrian pulled her shirt away and bent his head over her chest, she gasped as he bit and nibbled down to her waistline and then pulled away the rest of her clothing. He came back up to kissed her passionately and she couldn’t help it as a small tear trickled down her cheek. He kissed it away as he held her head between his large hands and kissed her again. He stared into her silver eyes,
“Listen to me, Zataria Darkmoon, I love you. I will always love you…” He said urgently, lovingly and she let out a strangled sob as she clasped him to her chest. Behind them the pink that announced the rising sun was visible on the horizon between the silver bars and now each touch was urgent and frantic. Syrian entered her powerfully and thrust into her as he frantically tried to drive away the fear he knew must be growing within her. She clung close to him, burying her face in his chest letting him drive away her fear, at least for the moment. The pale sunlight spilled over the valley and into the cell at the exact moment that they reached their limit and cried out together.
The harsh voices of men was heard and Zataria trembled as she dressed, and then clung once more to the master she served.
“My lord… how does it feel to die?” She asked hesitantly. Syrian kissed her reassuringly, “It’s like waking up from a dream.” He answered as he held her close. Zataria nodded softly and stared deep into his eyes, drawing strength from their crimson depths. Outside she could hear the chanting of a crowd calling for her death and now she stood. Syrian stood with her, wiping her cheeks free from tears. Zataria bowed her head and then in one swift motion has tied her hair into a high ponytail. She lifted her head high, as Syrian faded away into the shadows just as a pair of men walked into her cell. They quickly bound her hands behind her back and led her out. Zataria walked calmly and collectedly in front of them, her frigid glare quieting the crowd that called for her blood.
Her heart beat wildly as she met the eyes of her own daughter, staring at her hatefully from the crowd. She bowed her head with a small smile and took a deep breath as she knelt down in front of the bloodstained block of wood used for executions. One of the men tried to place a bag over her head but she shook her head in refusal. Instead she stared up at the sky once more, and breathed deeply, letting the smell of the forest and outdoors be her last scent. She felt a fluttering kiss on her neck as a small wind passed over her, whirling around her and stirring her hair. I am with you… she heard the whispered words carried by the wind and she smiled sadly. She leaned forward and placed her head on the block and closed her eyes. Her memory of her last night was instantly called forward and she relived every kiss given to her by Syrian, her lover and master. The last thing she felt was the bite of the blade in the back of her neck and then everything went dark. The next thing she saw was the smiling face of Syrian her master, her lover and the god of Death as he carried her away from her body and into his realms.