Rafel knew a lot about terrible parents. He had the absolute fucking worst.
His aunt—whom he had fucked not once, not twice, but endless times had turned out to be his mom.
—and she knew now how much he enjoyed fucking her. His mommy knew his cum face.
All the fucking Hel-years of his life, even while she would be urging him, "faster! faster!" inside of her, she knew. She fucking knew and said nothing. He had always wondered why Lilith only let herself truly go with him. 'And now, I guess I know.' Rafel's shoulders slumped. For a boy of his size, it was a whole lot.
At the moment, he stood in front of Eragonn: the great stone doors, big as the shadow frigates of [Kala Domoni] before him. He was the only soul in the rising mist of the infamous dungeonland.
"Hark! Who's there?! Eragonn expects no visitors in her darken bowels this morn. Name thyself!"