Disclaimer: is a work of fiction. This is a fictional story. Any resemblance to person(s) living or dead is purely coincidental.

A/n: Kitathas- "Wind of Spirit Fury" ande Leire- "she who stands at the border of dawn". Chapter is steeped in sexual content leading up to major drama and explanations of The Four Branches.

Kitathas Leire

Arianrhod lay upon many furs of ermine and the white bears of the very furthest north as she watched the Undine sitting on his knees and his head lowered as if in prayer. She required it of him every day since his capture; he was to lift his wrist and allow her to feed from him. No one was allowed to touch him but her and no one would dare break her rule.

“Do you tire Undine?” She demanded twirling a lock of her silvery-white hair.

“I care not! It is my only wish you would kill me and slip me into the water.” the fae whispered as his voice almost broke.

“What is your name fae?” The silver wheel asked arching her brow.

All of her mane was down this day and she only wore silk wrapped around her hips in white. She was on her side as she watched her slave lift his pale head and stare at her with his incredibly light blue eyes.

“Ailduin Ludok.” He stated in a defeated voice.

Her long hair covered her nakedness and she stared at eyes that should make her sick. The fae were beautiful creatures to behold but they were as deadly; if not more so than an ekimmu. Arianrhod suddenly stood up and came in front of him and jerked his chin up and made him look at her. Anger filled her but she was also filled with something else that she could not place.

“The water? So you could be reborn? That is within my power as well.” She whispered severely.

“I am fae and an Undine; my Lady Don controls my soul.” Ailduin said stubbornly.

“She is my mother you know.” Arianrhod sneered.

“I thought it myth.” He said trying not to look at her.

“Do I not favor her fae? I was given my sire’s power and he swore I have her face. He told me I should destroy her.” She said inhaling sharply as she tightened her grip on his chin.

“Who is Nwyvre?” he dared to speak.

Arianrhod’s other hand shook and she widened her eyes as he dared to speak without being spoken to.

“He was fae.” She snapped as her eyes darkened.

“You have whispered that name in your sleep.” He said daring to stare her in the eyes.

Arianrhod’s ire was raised but his brazenness was doing something to her. She jerked him up and made him stare her in the face. He was slightly taller and his white hair fell to his middle back undone. He bore some old scars from a sword across his chest and his face. It...