Azazel (excerpt from book I The Watchers)


Azazel stands and wipes the sweat away from his eyes with the side of his forearm and pulls his long black hair off his neck. The heat blasting him from the forge is sweltering, but he doesn’t mind. He glories in the heat that brings forth his creations. He pulls the red steel from within the forge and places it onto the anvil.
“Now pay close attention. It’s very important to do this properly.”
The humans around him nod vigorously in eagerness to please him. Azazel raises the sledgehammer and, muscles rippling, swiftly strikes the steel. The ringing echos throughout the large smithery. Slowly, a breastplate begins to take shape.

Many hours later he puts aside the unfinished work and turns toward his audience. “This is all for today. I want to see all of you before sunrise tomorrow.”
“Yes master,” They murmur as they bow and back away.
Striding from the smithery down the white columed walkway, Azazel pulls off the drenched loin cloth, his only covering, and throws it to a waiting servant. “Burn that” he says, and giving no thought to his nakedness, he continues forward trailing massive black wings behind him. Whistling, he takes in all the construction happening around him. Watchers and humans are busy building a palace like nothing before seen on Earth. Great columns are being erected to support vaulted ceilings. Beautiful murals will cover walls and ceilings. Azazel gazes at his forming kingdom and is very pleased.

He stops before two giant ornate golden doors and waits for servants to push them open. This is his harem, filled with exotic plants, animals and women. Standing in the large bathing fountain at the center is one of his favorite women, Emel. Her profile is to him, one foot propped on a podium, as her maid thoroughly bathes and oils each leg and foot. Azazel walks into the fountain to quickly wash away the sweat and grime from his work. He continues to watch the maid bathe Emel, smiling with pride as he watches the water running over her swelling abdomen. “How is our son today my aureus mulier?”
“Ah, my aureus vir, our son is fine and strong! How could he not be with such a father?” Her dark almond eyes gleam with victory for she is the first of his women to conceive a child. Emel carries a secret hope and ambition to be named chief wife.

Azazel dismisses the maid and continues to bathe her himself. He pours the fragrant swabu into both hands and massages it into her long black hair. After rinsing and drying her, he leads her to a small chamber just off the gardens. Seating her on cushions in front of him he starts applying an oil containing henna and lily to her golden skin. As he messages oil into her abdomen he feels the movement of his son for the first time. Resting his hand there Azazel can sense that his son is indeed strong, of body and mind. “I’m very pleased with you my darling,” he says as he continues to caress her and message the oil into her skin. She lies back with a sigh of pleasure as his hands move over her voluptuous body. He knows he has stirred her desire and hides a grin at her slight frown as he moves to her head. He oils and combs her luscious hair until it gleams and then uses his fingers to massage her scalp and temples. He feels her relax into his lap and moves his hands down her shoulders and to the beautiful golden skin of her breasts. Her breathing quickens again as he moves to caress her abdomen and legs, kissing each place he touches. He looks up into eyes filled with longing, her arms raised to him, and slowly lowers himself to her warm flesh.
-LM Jones

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