The night, the wedding, the King beneath you.

Your hips hovered over Amon's, a knife to his throat. He seemed amused, Not at all concerned for his life. "Is this how your people bed their husbands?" He questioned, lacing his tone with amusement. "And.. you will fail with that knife." He added.

"I'd wager you bleed as any other man." You hissed.

Grasping the blade over your hand, his gaze solely on you as he slowly inflicted a wound to himself. Only for it to heal within seconds.

"It does nothing.." you breathed out.

"Lower your hips, you will see exactly what it does to me." He muttered, eyes simmering with a playful gleam.