In a Facebook group I’m a part of, each month a collection of words is given to the authors to create a writing prompt, and we’re supposed to come up with a 100-400 word story based on the words. I created one today and I thought it might be fun to add to it monthly until it’s a proper-length story. So that everyone has a hand in creating it, if you have any prompt words to add to the story, please submit them (and you can do so anonymously) in my Ask Box. This story WILL eventually be NSFW, so please be aware of that. Enjoy. We’re going to go with the tentative title Coveted.
Rose slid the rolled, yellowed parchment carefully home inside the nook on the top shelf. She glanced behind her, and climbed down the long ladder. Her position in the Sacred Archives was highly coveted and sought after by many of her colleagues, but she’d landed the job through hard work and dedication. Her sister, Iris, had said Rose got the job simply because she was awesome, but the Elders didn’t want anything but competent Mystics working in the Archives. Handling the sacred scrolls required a certain magical panache that most Mystics had to work years to obtain, but the intuitive rarity that always set Rose apart as a child became the catalyst for her career.
A deep, gravelly voice interrupted her reverie. “Look lively, little one.”
She gasped, a few feet from the ground, and looked over her shoulder to find herself at eye level with a scrumptiously handsome man. Sapphire eyes gleamed at her, framed by a wild, dark mane. This man was rugged and smelled of the forest. Her treacherous eyes tore free from her brain, and she glanced at his impressive form. He had a hard body with prominent muscles, the kind men had to work for, and from his leather breeches to his armored vest over a white shirt, he must be one of the bounty hunters who just got in from the airship the other day.
His full lips parted, and his eyes clamped on her. Apparently, he liked what he saw. “You’re… Rose, yes?” A silver light sparked in his eyes, and oh, shit. She knew that look. That was an ovary-wrecking, fertility-hunting look. In the three seconds it took for the hot blood to pool in her belly and for her to get a grip on the endorphins coursing through her, she gulped, and nodded.