Part One

The pale moon slid languidly from the velvet night sky into the black sea at the distant horizon. The crisp night air bit deeply into anything it could grasp, accompanied in shrill whistles of death's chill, evening breeze. At the edge of a forest's clearing, at the shore of a bay silent except for the few crashing waves at it's sand's end, an owl screeched and hooted before taking flight and disappearing deeper into the forest's depth. Hurried footsteps patted through the thickness of the grove floor, crackling through dried, dead leaves and snapping through twigs in a distressed flee. The foot falls were soft as those of someone light and slightly agile, but forced and smashing down with force for greater leverage, the fear and anxiety apparent in the way the stranger propelled themselves through the darkness. As the sound neared closer to the clearing, the swish and brushing of fabric against fabric became distinctive, of the clinking of metal clasps and buttons, of a satin cape billowing gently as all satin is gentle. In a small crash, the stranger tripped rather ungracefully over a fallen log and tumbled out of the dark, ominous wood and into the white, rough sand of the clearing. A sob escaped his full lips and he quickly pushed himself up, not even dusting the dirt from his tunic as he spun around, glaring wide-eyed and cautious towards wherest he came, stumbling unassuredly backwards towards the ebony ocean.
"Please," his rich, sensuous voice cut through the sudden surreal silence, "Please let me go, I beg of you! I'm a very wealthy nobleman, can't you see? Let me go and you'll be rewarded! My father will pay to you thrice times my weight in gold for the safe return of his favorite son!" His pleas, stammered and afraid, were aimed toward the dark forest, but at who was not certain, the darkness covering everything save the gleaming sand of the clearing. A tear slid down his cheek as he fell to his knees, hands falling pitifully into his lap. Long, curly, auburn hair slid into his wide, bright amber eyes and into the wan, pale flesh of his skin and rosy cheeks as sweat matted the silky, red strands to his forehead. After a moment of dreadful, terrifying quiet, his eyes slid half mast as he leaned forwards and sobbed openly, slender hands reaching up to cover his face, his body shuddered through the tremors. Suddenly there was a solitary snap of a twig and the youth, startled, threw up his head, glancing all about him, moving into a kneel, readying to dash off at the slightest sign of danger. Then, in a blur of darkness, a tall figure loomed over him and, in shock, the youth gasped and fell back into the sand. The figure, now illuminated by the last slivers of moon light, stared down with piercing icy blue eyes at his prey who was beginning to scramble to right himself. Before the beautiful youth could find his bearings, in a flash of long, straight platinum blond hair, he was grabbed a hold of by his soft, reddish hair and was yanked to his feet. He yelped as he was roughly hefted over the creature's shoulder and was being carried off kicking and screaming back into the forest.
"Please! Release me! I beg of you!!"
Then, quicker than a mortal eye can comprehend, the youth was whisked away and silence once again fell heavily upon the clearing.

The red haired beauty found himself laying naked in a bed of soft, silken, cream colored sheets. The cloth was cool and slick against his smooth, unblemished skin, and it puddled into his lap as he shot up, frantically searching about him for his earlier assailant. His breath became ragged as his fear came back to him. He broke out into a cold sweat. The walls of the room were gray stone and it smelled heavily of cinnamon and foreign spices, though from were the heady aroma came was too dark to tell. There was a creak of a wooden chair in one of the four dark corners suddenly and the youth felt his heart thudding painfully hard in his ear and throat, too fear stricken to turn towards the sound.
"Relax, my love, my Lorias. Take a deep breath. Don't you recognize my voice?"
The voice was as silken and smooth as the sheets that he swam in and equally as cool. Lorias spun wildly toward the intruder, as if had he turned any slower and the stranger would disappear into thin air. There, standing just at the edge of the bed, the same tall, handsome man with the cold blue eyes and long, white-blond hair watched him with slight amusement. He lowered himself gracefully at the sheets, leaning closely over to peer into the frightened golden eyes of his captive.
Lorias, too afraid to speak, caught his breath and held it as the stranger began to pull back the thin, silk coverlet. He snatched it up and held it fast to his bare, slight chest protectively and glare furiously at the broad, elegant, older man.
"What do you want of me!?" Lorias gasped quickly, shaking his full head of fiery curls as if to clear it, to make way for rational thoughts that might help him escape.
The stranger laughed. It was soft and chilling and self-assured.
"There's not much you really can give me, is there, precious one?"
Their eyes locked for a few quiet moments, the tall, pale man perhaps giving the youth time to think over the question. He placed a long, slender finger tenderly to Lorias' full, pink lips as they parted to answer.
"I suppose I should let you know your rich father is the least of my concerns, my dear. You might not be able to tell in your current frozen state but wealth was never an issue in my life of golden platters."
Lorias was again at a loss for words.
"But your beauty, Ah, your splendid, heavenly beauty is something I wish not to live without a moment longer. I wish to make you mine, to own you more than anyone can own another living being. That is what you may give me. Yourself. Completely. Utterly."
Taking advantage of his captive's body numbing over in fear, the golden haired one pushed the red-headed youth back into the beige silk and fell to cover him, suspending himself but inches away from Lorias' slender, pale neck and breathing lustfully over the soft skin.
Lorias shuddered and became unconsciously submissive, turning his face away and unwillingly exposing more of his tender flesh. His thick, dark lashes fluttered almost shut as he whispered the only question that came to mind, "Who are you?"
The stranger smiled into the warm crook of Lorias neck, lapping at the skin lightly with his tongue before rising a bit to whisper smoothly, "Demitri. Though you will call me Master."