by Kenna Bardot
"Nothing particularly wrong.” I paused when he threw me an incredulous glance. “Okay, maybe a little. I’ve just been on the receiving end of too many condescending 'my dears'." I shrugged and tried to not let it get to me. When I thought back to that moment I’d known I would Ascend and be Sired by the men I loved more than anything, I had thought it to be my happy ending.
How was I to know that my happy ending had more challenges to face?
"The North matrons have a reputation for being the strictest of all the matrons from any region. I remember growing up under their care only too well." He shook his head. "You’ll be a better mother than they could hope to be."
"I’m determined to be, that’s for certain. But you know how I feel about it. I’m too young, so far from being ready to be a mother. I still have too much I want to accomplish. Rights I want to further." Remembering Varo and Tali earlier only reminded me I had done nothing and there was so much left to do.
Yes, I wanted children, but I had to think of the brother I’d left behind. Before long, he would leave his childhood behind and go through the same pain I’d had to endure. That Tali had been forced to endure. His experience had to be better.
What was the point in being a Goddess if I just sat around and lavished in complacency?
"You mustn't rush things. The best thing to do is to establish yourself first and garner respect before you can affect any change." Char voiced what I knew to be true, even though I wasn't too pleased to hear it.
"You're not wrong. But the very reason I should wait to force a revolution should be the very reason I am certain I am not ready to enter motherhood." I narrowed my eyes at him. "The five of you said that you would wait until I was ready. We’ve talked about this, Charolais. I’m holding you all to the promise you gave me during the Sire Trials, the promise I reinforced when I first Ascended. I can’t be a mother until I’m ready, and I won’t be ready until I’m content.”
He sighed and turned away from me, stopping just as we stepped into the clearing, the sight of our house greeting us. Brick and stone made it strong and sturdy, but the six of us made it warm and welcoming.
"So we did." He turned back around and shot me a big grin so uncharacteristic of Char. Then he tugged me to him. “And you know why? Because I love you.” His lips dropped to mine and took me in a kiss that stole my breath away.
We broke off, and I had to take in a huge gulp of breath. “What say we go inside and the five of us show you just how much we love you?” He winked, and I broke out into an annoying fit of giggles. I nipped at his jaw and whispered into his ear, “Yes, why don’t you?”
Two
Tate
Our home rippled with the tangible evidence of our love. It lay in the oversized furniture where we cuddled in a puddle of limbs after a long day performing our duties in Demiorgo. It showed in the slight feminine touches of Mireyah in a space otherwise dominated by the masculinity of the five of us.
As a Nastroj, I felt emotions trickle through the bond more clearly than the others. More clearly than most Gods, but I couldn’t complain about any of it. Not when the sensation of it brushed my soul like an intoxicating, soothing balm compared to the more sharp emotions I sensed from the children all day.
Whenever the fates aligned for the six of us to enjoy a day off together, the house was full and happy, with the love between us arching through our bond. That day started just like any other where we were fortunate enough to be together, spending the morning in bed and only eventually rising to eat a late breakfast. We lazed about. We talked.
We simply enjoyed being together.
But then Char, with his drive to capture the perfect, challenged Mireyah to show him how well her Majele training progressed. That was the moment we discovered the truth that it in fact, wasn’t progressing at all.
Our Mireyah took to the Kald part of her magic like she’d always had it. Like she’d grown alongside the Descendants at Godsvail and lived decades mastering her power. But the Majele in her blood failed her, hovered far beyond her reach.
Ryle and Shep decided they would help train Mireyah when Char expressed doubts she could ever master it.
Mireyah, as stubborn as she was, took to the challenge exactly how Char intended, being the manipulative bastard he was.
They’d all stormed out of the house with varying degrees of enthusiasm, but I’d stayed behind because there was something I had to do. I gave myself one last look in the mirror and before I could change my mind; I walked out of the bathroom.
I stopped by the kitchen window, mimicking Hollis’ body language. He didn’t turn to look at me, but his face transformed with a blinding smile as he watched Mireyah and the others through the window. “Why aren’t you outside?” he asked.
“Was just headed there. What are you doing here?” I asked.
He turned from the window when the kettle whistled. “I’m making tea. Who knew that marriage would end up making me so domestic? Go on ahead, Tate. I’ll be right out.”
I reached over to give his hand a quick touch. “Kay. Thanks for being our domestic God, Hollis. Zeevar knows that’s not Mireyah.”
He laughed as he pulled cups and glasses from the cupboards as I moved towards the door, coming to an abrupt halt to peer out the window again when Mireyah squealed. Ryle carted her off the ground, draping her over his shoulders like a sack. “My twin is trying to break our woman. How lovely.”
I walked out of the door and made a beeline for the table and chairs on the back patio. Char sat, legs outstretched and looking the most relaxed I’d seen him in recent months. As I felt the waves of fatigue roll off him, the stress and discomfort of the past months seemed etched on his face.
Charolais was not one for letting go of control. I ran a hand over his white hair, loving how the starkness of it contrasted against the olive of my skin. Bending down, I kissed the top of his white hair. “You started this, you know?”
He wrapped a hand around mine and looked up with his eyes half closed, but an amused smirk played at his mouth. “So I did. But they’re having so much fun.” He gave my fingers several soft kisses and the gentle touch echoed through the rest of my body like a tease of the worst kind. I shuddered as I looked back over at the trio traipsing all over our backyard.
Char sighed and closed his eyes, and even more of his fatigue swept over me in a rush. Worried, I touched a hand to his shoulder even as Mireyah’s voice carried over to us.
“Ryle! Let me go. This isn’t working!” Mireyah’s command was high-pitched but calmer than I would expect of our demanding wife, given the situation.
“Oh yes, she certainly seems to be enjoying herself.” I shook my head with a mocking smile as I squeezed his shoulder. I looked down to study him as subtly as I could. Charolais would not appreciate my worry, but it couldn’t be denied. Not when his exhaustion grew stronger every day.
His eyes opened and met mine in an accusing glare. "Not today. Not when we're all together." He reached up and touched a thumb to the corner of my lip and teased the stud I’d put in for the first time in years. Charolais was the last God I could keep things from, and he noticed everything far quicker than most.
He opened his mouth, likely to comment, but his head whipped towards the scene in the backyard, wincing as Shep's whoop echoed in the clearing. His footsteps thundered as he rushed towards Ryle and Mireyah, a tiny angry tornado in his wake. The furious swirl of the dark grey mass hit Ryle directly at the back, causing him to fall on his ass with Mireyah in tow.
Our Mireyah tumbled to the ground, but not before Shep's tornado caught her in a puff of plum smoke that wrapped around our woman before dissipating completely.
"Hey, don't destroy our Mireyah." Hollis stepped out of our front door with a tray laden with the drinks I’d seen him preparing in the kitchen as I’d been passing through. As he sat, he gestured for us to help ourselves before pouring himself some tea. As he brought the cup to his lips, he looked worriedly at the distance. I heard Mirey
ah’s gasp as Ryle turned her over and laid his considerable bulk over her. He really could be such a brute, my twin.
"Are you two just enjoying the show?" Hollis asked after taking a tiny sip.
"It amuses and relaxes me." Charolais answered, and I couldn't help but throw a grin at him and Hollis. "Mireyah is a Goddess now. She's not what you would call fragile."
"But that beautiful face," Hollis murmured as he shook his head, blowing on his tea."One must take care of the beautiful face."
"We all know that there's no ugly or broken that you can't fix with those magic hands of yours, Hollis," I teased. He hated being reminded about it, but our Hollis worked in the business of beauty and vanity. Magic hands that made anyone beautiful and desirable.
He despised the frivolity more than anything.
He sighed and shook his head. "Still. It's best to keep one's self looking as good as possible. By tempting fate, you can never be sure of the results, can you?” He just frowned and blew on his tea once more as he narrowed his eyes at me. “Speaking of keeping one's looks. When the fuck did you put that thing on your face?"
“You were too busy being domestic to notice.” I pushed the chuckle back because he had that serious look on his face. Hollis wasn’t a big fan of my lip piercing, and I’d known he’d have an opinion.
“I was also about to comment on it actually,” Char put in softly, licking his lips. The bloody tempting man.
"I’ll give you the distraction by tea, but why have you re-attached the atrocity, Tate? I’d thought it long gone by now, after you disposed of it when you started caring for the children.
I reached a hand up to touch the corner of my mouth, feeling the cool metal. "They shouldn’t care how I look if I get my shit done right." I paused for effect, flipping my head so the hair on the only side of my head that had it made a dramatic whoosh. "And I get it done right."
"I like it." Char smiled as he leaned over and gave my lips a kiss, touching the tip of his tongue to the metal bar. "Personal preference."
"You mean you like how it feels against your cock," I stated matter-of-factly as Char moved back and shrugged, although the look he gave me promised punishment in the dark.
I couldn’t wait.
Hollis let out a long, low laugh. He poured a tall glass of cold mead for the two of us. He leaned forward and laid his lips on mine. His Svadeni aura swirled over me, intoxicating and addicting. I reached up to tug him towards me, to deepen that kiss, but he pulled back and just shot me a lazy smile on his overly handsome face.
He conceded, “Okay, I like that. I can already imagine how it would feel elsewhere.” He leaned back as I reached over for a glass of mead. “But I’m sure Mireyah would prefer if you’d put a bar through your tongue instead.” I shrugged at him, but I considered it. There was nothing that would please me more than to drive her even more mad with pleasure when I worshiped her.
Char chuckled as he pointed in their direction. "Speaking of Mireyah." I turned back to where he pointed just in time to see Ryle pull her back to him. She'd attempted to crawl away from underneath him.
Poor, poor Mireyah. I had to wonder why Ryle’s bullying wouldn’t open her up to the potential Majele powers that flowed under the surface of her skin. Under normal conditions, a threat like that would have been enough to allow at least some trace of her power to come through. They put us through harsher in Godsvail to hone our very own abilities and Mireyah was stronger, being she was a Goddess with five Sires.
I mulled over what could hold her back, thinking it might be helpful to suggest that I read her to find out. Well, there was no harm in suggesting it, anyway.
"Ryle Karfi! Get off me this instant, you heavy-handed brute!" Mireyah shouted from the yard, and I followed Mireyah’s hand to see that part of my brother's arm was already semi-frozen. I shook my head. Frostbite was no match for the physical invulnerability of a Karfi, and my brother prided himself on being stronger and less vulnerable than most.
With the stunning failure of the physical method to draw out a stubborn power, it seemed an appropriate time to propose the alternative. I stood, dusting my hands on my pants. “Perhaps I should give it a shot? It’s clear manhandling her isn’t working.”
“Good luck.” Char smirked at me as he reached over for his own glass of mead. He touched Hollis’ hand before he did so and the two exchanged amused looks.
At my expense, I was sure. The bastards.
I took a hearty gulp of the frosty mead, banging the glass down on the table to make my feelings known before walking over to join the fray. I stopped a few steps away, far enough not to be caught up in the mess, but close enough they’d hear me.
"Hollis is worried you’ll damage Mireyah’s face," I told my twin. I shook my head at Shep, who was too busy laughing to care that Mireyah buried a hand in his hair and pulled with every move she made as she struggled against Ryle’s impossible strength. If I knew the twisted man, the hair pulling probably turned him on more than anything.
"Shep, you useless shit! I’ll remember this later!” she shrieked. “Tate, help me!” Her frustration bled to giggles as Ryle growled into her neck, licking a path from her collarbone to her ear while she squirmed. “Stop it!”
"I feel cheated,” I said in a mock pout. “Sandwiching her between you and the grass is so very selfish.” I pursed my lips hard together to keep from laughing at how ridiculous I sounded.
Ryle pushed up off Mireyah a bit and angled so he could shoot me a look over his shoulder. "It's just the grass. There's no dick there and besides…." But he wasn't able to finish whatever he'd been about to say before he went cross-eyed with a tiny, "oof."
He rolled off Mireyah and curled up in a fetal position, and I glanced down to see the evil smile on Mireyah's face. "Ha! Guess your balls aren't as invulnerable as the rest of you."
As I took in my twin's crumpled form, I took an involuntary step back. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to suggest a reading. Not with Mireyah in such a vicious mood.
I didn’t have invulnerable balls.
✽✽✽
Mireyah
I narrowed my eyes as Tate moved back, his face crumpled into pity as he looked at his twin. I really truly hated to play dirty, but there was only so much of being pinned to the ground by the largest of my five Sires that I could tolerate before I snapped.
Goddess or not, I could still feel the pain of being crushed alive. Immortality didn’t save me from that.
"Ah, Mireyah." I swiveled my head to face Shep, who watched me with his hands up in a defensive pose. He gave me a pained look, and I idly wondered if I wanted to let go of his shaggy violet hair. "Let's not be too hasty, okay?"
I shot him a mirthless smile as I released. I got to my feet in one fluid motion as he jumped up and moved far enough away to avoid being a target. "I won’t knee you in the balls, Shep. At least not right now."
Tate took a step forward, and Shep angled his body to use him as a shield. Trust right there. “Mireyah, you need to learn. When Ryle had you immobilized, your instinct was to freeze his arm off. And that's nothing to a Karfi. When he was distracted, what did you do? You kneed him in the balls. Which is such a human instinct, painful as it might be, but you’re no longer human. You’ve been blessed with the power of a Majele and a Kald. Both flow within you, and instead of reverting to human when Kald doesn’t work, you need to embrace your Majele side. You shouldn’t just own those colors but embody them.”
Tears stung my eyes at his words. "I'm trying, Tate. Zeevar knows I want to use my Majele. When I watched Lathyn use his powers during that last Sire Trial, I yearned for it. The way he manipulated his surroundings to his will through his toxins was intoxicating. How could it not call to me with a history like mine? But I just can't."
And I didn’t know why.
Shep pushed forward, his interest in protecting his balls gone as he inserted himself in front of Tate. I widened my eyes at Shep as he grabbed me by the upper arms. “You talk about him as
if he Sired you. Like he gave you the Majele in your veins.” He gave me a slight shake before pulling away.
Anger pulsed through me, and I allowed it to pour through our bond. I pushed my wrist towards Shep's face, showing him the five tattoos permanently branded into my skin.
The ultimate reminder of possession.
"Lest we forget, my skin bears your mark. The mark of the five of you. I'm here because I'm Bonded to you. Not him. What else could you want?"
We’d bled for each other and the ability to be together. But sometimes there were reminders in our relationship that before we all became an us, there had been a them.
"I want you to respect that Bond by not speaking of him. You already bear his colors in half your hair and eyes, the least you can do is not act like you prefer what he has versus everything else we offer you." He pushed my wrist away from his face but grabbed it in his free hand, stroking the tattoos like he needed the reminder I was his.
The bond rose around me, a possession that felt like it might suffocate me. I took a sharp breath and allowed it to wash over me. Shep was a jealous man, and I’d known that when I fell for him. I had to accept it, even if I didn’t accept the harsh words themselves.
Tate’s gaze landed on me, concern etched on his face. "Mireyah is allowed to have male friends. We might not understand why she needs them, but we can’t control every aspect of her life."
Shep dropped his hold on me, and I drew in a deep breath to fortify myself against whatever my temperamental Sire might say next.
Tate prevented whatever it might have been, stepping closer and running a finger down my cheek. “Maybe I can look? If something is stopping it, I might feel it.”
My throat closed as I felt the panic, but I tried to play it off. “I’m tired, Tate. I don’t know that my mind can take that today.” I tried to give him a smile, but I felt it falter at the corners of my mouth.
He nodded slowly. “We can do it next time we all have off together. Just like today.”