The Dead Dove Locker -- "I don't know what I expected."

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The Dead Dove Locker -- "I don't know what I expected."

Mamorien

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RE: The Dead Dove Locker -- "I don't know what I expected."

#128

06-19-2026, 10:00 PM

Praise to the Sorcerer-General! Praise to the Deathspell beneath which he shelters us! Praise the Verdugo and make way!

Dukerino almost literally just Wrote:Well, shit! You guys really blew the hell out of the bonus chapter goals! All we have left is the followers one.

You've earned two bonus chapters; I'll be posting the other one around this time tomorrow.

1500 followers

█████████▒░░░ 1100 /1500

300 faves

██████████ Done!

200 ratings

██████████ Done!

20 reviews

██████████ Done!

The Dam
(...)

There was a dam in Seth’s head, a tall concrete edifice. Here, on the dry side, Annalise al Ydris was a friendly-but-intimidating boss. Someone who he hoped to impress, someone he’d like as a friend, yes; but ultimately best to keep his professionalism and his distance. He was a contractor in all but, well, contract. Something he really ought to amend.

The dam was to be watched zealously and studiously maintained. With every crack, every pebble falling out of it, Seth became increasingly aware that the current behind it was deep and monstrously swift; and if it ever broke, it was going to sweep him away completely, and he wasn’t sure how he could put it back together. He’d thought how big and scary the al Ydris matriarch was, how honed her body was for war and intimidation, might aid him in maintaining it. He had seen her kill, seen her coated in blood. To his disconcerted surprise, these remembrances were not helping him. On reflection, they might even be exacerbating the problem.

The dam had found fine reinforcement when Seth met Anna. Lisa was a problem. Lisa smelled like apricots.

Even if she wasn’t a Verdugo, and his employer, and the mother of his new coworkers, she was unlit. You couldn’t have sex with an unlit. Not if you wanted your soul to stay put and your eyes to stay white.

Which would be terrible. Of course it would. Everyone knew how horrible it was to be unlit. Once you went unlit there was no return. You were torn from your home, made a citizen of the Necropolis for the rest of your days, at the threshold of the Deathspell with the Sorcerer General’s Legion all about you, barred from the rest of the world forever, never to bear children or dwell with your people or feel the warmth of a lit lover again.

And yet.

Seth could not help but notice that—contrary to the folklore he’d learned—the Verdugo’s thigh where it pressed against his was quite warm. Warm as a lit human’s. Warm and thick and well-formed. Her breeches were tight enough he could see the line of her muscle along the outer edge. What was that muscle called again?

“Seth?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you spacing out on me?”

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“Hex engine.” She pointed. “One of those fancy open-top ones.”

“Oooh. Yeah.” Seth squinted through the slow-swaying horse traffic at the slick pine-colored vehicle she’d indicated. “Real flashy.”

“Tiago is obsessed with them,” Lisa said. “He’s constantly intimating that we make the switch on the carriage. I have to remind him we need a way to run from a big seraph if we need to. He doesn’t like horses much.”

“Why not?”

“Not sure. I blame whatever fool raised him. And Meaty does too. Don’t you, Meat?” She leaned forward and scratched her horse’s rump. “Yes you do. You are a disappointed horse.”