"Are you a virgin, Alexander?"
Alexander froze. The question seemed to hang in the air, heavier than the iron-grey clouds that had followed us from the capital. I watched his shaggy wolf ears twitch violently before pressing back against his skull, his pupils dilating until his eyes were almost entirely swallowed by that banked, black fire.
A thick, agonizing silence stretched between us. I continued to caress his cheek with the tip of the whip, the leather cool against his feverish, tanned skin.
"I am," he finally said. The admission came out like a confession of a high crime, his voice cracking with a mix of shame and a desperate, burgeoning pride.
I let out a low, melodic laugh that seemed to vibrate through his very frame.
"A virgin Marquis? In a land this cold and lonely? How have you managed to keep yourself so... untouched, Alexander? I am quite curious."
