Tempting Eternity

by Angela Colsin

  Though she spoke the word with scorn, her smile returned in relating, “So Artair did instead, providing Kalara with many children, a large family of which any deity would be proud. She then created Sutrelle to serve as their home, a place to protect them from the disdain of other deities, and for a time, we were certainly happy.”

  Her use of the pronoun we seemed to go unnoticed, not that it truly mattered. Sylva had obviously merged with Kalara, possessed the goddess' memories, perhaps her very consciousness—and the more she revealed, the more convinced he became that she was telling the truth. Her account simply answered too many longstanding questions, such as why sunlight didn't harm them in Sutrelle.

  As for how Sylva knew any of this, the answer came with her following statements.

  “Still, Kalara feared the pantheon would eventually cause her new family trouble, which they did, mere days after your blooding in fact.”

  Realizing that was when the Grand Priestess disappeared, Mathias found himself powerless not to ask, “What happened?”

  “Peros, the God of Darkness, appeared at her Terran temple with the intentions of destroying her children and everything she'd worked so hard to build.”

  Proving the memory was distressing, Sylva's eyes shimmered with unshed tears in continuing, “So she pleaded for their lives by offering herself instead, and finally convinced Peros to show mercy. Instead of destroying her children, he effaced Kalara by removing all traces of her existence from the Divinity Scrolls and stripping her of power. What remained was a formless consciousness, the essence of a deity he locked away in the temple and buried beneath the sands.

  “There, Kalara remained for ages, unable to escape her prison until she sensed another trapped in the aether, just as wronged and enraged as herself.”

  “Sylva Abbott.”

  “Yes,” the witch confirmed, eyes glittering with emotion. “Just as Kalara was cast from Divinity, I was thrown into Limbo by the one person I should've been able to trust, left to drift amongst the dead without purpose. But in that dark, lifeless existence, I heard Kalara calling out for help, and followed her voice in my spectral form to find the essence of this trapped deity.”

  As she spoke, Sylva took his hands, squeezing tight in concluding, “We both knew the only way to continue on was to merge as a single being, and Kalara became a guiding force in the dark, directing my every step until I unlocked her temple. Now, in all ways that matter, I am Kalara, Mathias, and she is me.”

  With that single declaration, Sylva answered every question he had concerning the Grand Priestess. After thousands of years not knowing, the mystery of her disappearance was solved, and the only questions remaining concerned details he was too baffled to consider in depth.

  This revelation wasn't settling with any ease, and incredulity wasn't keeping him from sorting it out. No, there was too much evidence backing the witch's claims to allow doubt over her honesty, and that was the problem—the truth in Sylva's story made her the most dangerous being he'd ever encountered.

  All because she was his enemy.

  Though he had no reason to hold the Grand Priestess in contempt, there was simply no way to forgive Sylva's transgressions against those he loved—specifically Isadora. The witch had taken her control, forced her to steal from a friend, and almost took her life.

  Recalling how frail Isadora was after being stabbed in the chest made it difficult not to jerk his hands away from hers—or just reach out and snap her neck on the spot. Sadly, retaliation was likely impossible now that Sylva had merged with a former goddess.

  Stripped of power or not, Mathias had no doubts Kalara would've been too strong to subdue, leaving precious few options on how to proceed—and he had to question her motivations for summoning him to this unknown place from the start.

  Could the loss of her pendant have anything to do with it? If so, did she suspect him of taking it, or simply want his help getting it back?

  Mathias barely checked a sneer at the thought. But despite his success hiding the expression, the witch canted her head and stated, “You're angry with me.”

  He froze in place, unsure how to respond except to ask, “Who says I'm angry?”

  “It’s in your eyes,” she started, adding more pointedly, “and also your blood. Even in my new body, I can sense those Artair blooded, including their emotions.”

  With those words, Sylva stood and took a few steps away, concluding, “I also sensed you at the temple just after I was freed, and would’ve returned to find you, but a divine presence was lurking near the ruin, one I dared not reveal myself to. Because of that, I was forced to wait for your return to Terra so I could ask what you’ve done with my pendant.”

  Instantly, his gut clenched. It seemed she knew of his involvement after all—or she was hoping to trick him into admitting he'd stolen the bauble by making a vague statement.

  So he played the ignorance card.

  “Your pendant? I don't know what you're talking about.”

  Turning to face him once more, her lips curled into a smile. “Come now, Mathias, I know you've spent the past two days traveling the world with Isadora. The two of you have grown close, and I can only imagine how worried she was for her sisters under my control, likely enough so to ask even a vampire for assistance in stealing my pendant to free them.”

  With those words spoken, she motioned at him and added, “So are you going to tell me what happened to my pendant, or do I need to visit Isadora for answers by placing her under my control again?”

  Instantly, rage colored Mathias' perception, protective instincts putting him on his feet without hesitation. No matter who Sylva was or what power she possessed, he'd allow no one to threaten Isadora without retribution, and his reaction was swift.

  Hand darting out to clasp the witch's throat, he flicked his wrist to snap her neck. It was questionable whether the blow would inflict any permanent damage, or even harm her at all, but it certainly made his point.

  Sadly, he was right to doubt—his attack merely turned Sylva's head left.

  As a result, her smile dimmed, though it didn’t fade entirely as she closed her eyes and lifted her hands. With that simple movement, an unseen force rammed into Mathias with a strength that propelled his body across the room, slamming into the far wall so hard the masonry cracked.

  Crumbling to the floor with numerous shards of debris clattering around him, he struggled to return to his feet as Sylva stated, “There's no need for aggression, Mathias. I have no intentions of harming Isadora. I was merely testing you, which is the true reason I summoned you here. I’d hoped you’d understand once I revealed the full story, and even forgive what’s happened, but your devotion to Isadora is too strong to make this easy.”

  Mathias let a low growl, finding her hope for forgiveness absurd. It was nice knowing the full story after so long wondering, but he could've spent eternity in ignorance if it meant never worrying that someone like this witch would harm Isadora or use her against him.

  Yet, as he stood to his full height with every intention of saying so, all his questions, fears, and even his anger were forgotten at the sight of Sylva’s eyes. Questionably, as their gazes locked, the green expanded to encompass each orb, blotting out even her pupils until only the radiant halos remained, like two, smooth emerald orbs peering at him in a fathomless gaze.

  The sight itself was strange enough, but even stranger was Mathias’ inability to look away. Something in her eyes was inexplicably intriguing, drawing him in so completely they left him unable to move or speak.

  All he could do was listen as Sylva lamented, “Sadly, you've left me little choice. I don't wish to use you, but there's also no time to win you over. So tell me what you did with my pendant, Mathias. Start at the beginning, and please, spare no detail.”

  Still trapped in an inexplicable haze, Mathias felt compelled to answer, “I took it back to Sutrelle, but it's no longer in my possession.”

  His inability to stop himself from providing an
answer was frustrating, and yet, he couldn't even react to his own indignation. Somehow, Sylva was compelling him, whether by magic or some type of divine influence, though he barely felt capable of processing the notion, let alone voicing any complaints.

  Instead, he continued providing details as requested, from their plan to free Isadora's sisters to contacting The Crucible for more information on the pendant. The entire while, Sylva listened carefully, surprised and even amused at some points—until he mentioned The Crucible's response.

  “They sent Ardilon to the Cardinal Citadel to—”

  “Wait,” Sylva interrupted, gaze narrowing. “Ardilon visited the Citadel?”

  “Yes. He took the pendant for safekeeping, and I gave it freely because I owed him for the lives of my daughter and her lover.”

  Though Mathias was incapable of asserting his own control, he was still aware of something akin to anger flashing in the witch's eyes over his answer. But she didn't comment on whatever caused her derision, and merely directed, “So tell me, you're protective of Isadora, and I wonder just how much you care for her. Would you grieve her loss?”

  At the thought of anything happening to Isadora, raw, protective instincts surged through him along with an undeniable sense of despair. Combined with his fierce desire to deny Sylva the information requested and his fear of losing another loved one, tears welled in his eyes with his truthful response.

  “Yes. I love her, and I'd give anything to keep her safe, including my life.”

  “Hmm,” Sylva drew out, looking him over while thoughtfully tapping a red nail against her chin as if trying to make some important decision.

  Finally, she smiled and straightened her posture, relating, “I don't believe you'll have to go that far, Mathias, and if it pleases you, I'll vow here and now never to harm your lover. But you will help me retrieve my pendant, and the best part is that you won't even know you're doing it.”

  — THIRTY-SIX —

  “Come on, Mathias, get up already.”

  Isadora's muttered words came while pacing near the small pier jutting over the pond. A few deer stood by watching as a small group of rabbits and squirrels hopped along behind her.

  But she was too focused on seeing her vampire again to notice.

  Since waking from her nap around noon, sunset was the only thing on her mind despite the various tasks available to keep her distracted throughout the day. From visiting Dalris to consulting the local fairies about traveling to Sutrelle, she'd kept busy.

  But with those matters handled, she'd grown anxious, and the lower the sun drew down in the sky, the higher her eagerness skyrocketed.

  “I should just dig him up,” she grumbled, glancing down at the phone clutched in her left hand when it vibrated with another text from Maddox.

  Earlier, Isadora obtained her number from Dalris to send a message explaining everything going on, and ever since, Maddox was sending question after question regarding her sire's new relationship.

  Unsurprisingly, she was ecstatic to learn Mathias had found a lover, but also baffled by who his lover was. I should probably get used to that reaction.

  At the thought, Isadora sent a text mentioning her plans to have a lightless room built onto her cottage for Mathias, then scanned the area once again. But though the first stars now glittered above, there was still no sign of her vampire in sight.

  Grumbling under her breath, Isadora looked down when a new text vibrated her phone, muttering, “I should ask Maddox if he always sleeps in.”

  “Does that mean you missed me?”

  The sudden question came with Mathias' arms wrapping around her from behind and a kiss landing on her cheek.

  Initially, Isadora jerked in surprise, but soon relaxed into him, forgetting her text so quickly she dropped the phone in favor of grabbing his arms to hold in place around her.

  But two things stopped her from playfully chastising him for his punctuality.

  First, a single touch of his cold skin reminded her that he was in bloodlust after spending a day underground. His insistent hunger and dormant heart were also clear signs, and his presence was faint, strengthening her desire to feed him blood.

  Second, and perhaps more importantly, he was covered in dirt.

  “Oh, let go! You're smudging my clothes, vampire!”

  At her reprimand, he looked at his hands and arms as if only just realizing how dirty he was. But instead of releasing her, he merely remarked, “I didn't think a fae would mind a little dirt.”

  “I don't,” she confirmed, grousing, “but when clothes are involved, it makes a mess, particularly with expensive clothing.”

  Sadly, her current attire was just that, comprising a white silk blouse tucked into a pleated, thigh length skirt. The ensemble was simple enough, but the designer names printed on the tags were apparently worth a fortune. I'll never understand why a piece of paper means so much to humans … .

  Mathias didn't seem to understand it either, or he didn't care, tightening his hold when she tried to squirm away.

  “I suppose that's true, so I'll try to control myself.”

  In contrast to his devious declaration, he playfully swiped his dirty hands up and down her torso as Isadora squealed with laughter—though her body reacted to his touch with fervor, particularly when his hands rubbed over her breasts. Her nipples stiffened into tight points in response, making her following reprimand more breathy than she would've liked.

  “Mathias! You're doing that on purpose!”

  “Perhaps I am,” he admitted, grasping the collar of her button down with the words, “but I get the feeling you're more comfortable naked anyway.”

  At that, he hooked his fingers into the garment and tugged, the clasps of her top opening so quickly some of the buttons flew away. The swiftness of his movements elicited a gasp, though she wasn't complaining—if he ripped her clothing, she wouldn't have to clean them.

  Besides, she was more comfortable naked, and let him continue however he saw fit.

  Ripping her blouse away, the vampire next grasped the cups of her bra, jerking it apart to toss aside. But instead of removing her skirt, he spun her around and tugged her in.

  Once their bodies met, Isadora shivered as much from enjoyment as from his cool skin chilling her in the already cold night air. The sensation served as a reminder that he'd be incapable of physical arousal until he'd fed, and he wasn't reluctant to point it out.

  “I need your blood before we continue, sweet fae. My hunger is unrelenting, and I can think of nothing else.”

  She already knew as much, briefly wondering when she’d drink his own in return. But considering the strength of his hunger, it seemed like a better idea to provide for him first.

  So she swept her hair aside with a silent nod, tilting her head in offering.

  Mathias hesitated in response, his silver gaze sweeping down the column of her neck in admiration of what he desired.

  Yet he didn't wait long, and soon leaned in to pierce her flesh.

  Her nails dug into his back with a soft whimper at the pinch of his fangs, though the tight draw that followed filled her with contentment. Knowing her blood would bring his body back to life was fulfilling, and the moment she detected the resumed beating of his heart, a smile curled her lips.

  He was still cold, but growing warmer with each passing moment. Simultaneously, vines sprouted from the earth to wrap around her legs, climbing ever higher to return her strength until the vampire released his bite.

  As his head fell back with a deep groan, she realized his color was also returning. But despite his obvious satisfaction, her vampire seemed confused to find her connected with the earth.

  Gazing down, he inquired, “Did I take too much?”

  “No, why?”

  “Because you're … sprouting vines. Doesn't that mean you're weak?”

  “Oh,” she drew out with a soft giggle, explaining, “Not always, I just thought it might help your recovery.”

  With an un
derstanding smile, he glanced at two rabbits now sitting by their feet and asked, “What about them? Are these animals here at your behest, or simply drawn to you?”

  “They're drawn to me, but I can urge them to leave if you'd prefer.”

  As she spoke, Mathias released her for a quick rinse in the pond, crouching at the water's edge to splash handfuls over his skin with the words, “That's not necessary, though I am curious how you'd urge them. Is it like a telepathic command?”

  Taking the chance to remove her skirt and panties which she tossed into the pile with her torn shirt and bra, she answered easily, “Oh no, animals don't think the same way we do. They only understand feelings and intentions, so it's closer to empathy. I know their wants and needs, and they … know mine … .”

  Isadora trailed as Mathias stood, the sight of his muscular body beaded with water scrambling her thoughts.

  But she wasn't the only one being distracted from their conversation by an appealing view, or that's what his rapidly hardening cock suggested as his gaze roved over her naked body with the groaned words, “Gods, you're beautiful.”

  The deep tone of his voice set Isadora's heart to fluttering, though she giggled with a wave of her hand at his erection and mentioned, “So I see.”

  Glancing down, a grin split his lips just before he reached out to draw her back into a warm embrace, asking, “What can I say? You've been a temptation since we met, Isadora, and I suspect it will only get stronger with time, particularly if feeding you blood works as we're hoping.”

  With the heat of his body against hers in the cold night air, she'd forgotten all about drinking his blood. But despite her swiftly growing arousal, it was a matter she sorely desired to get out of the way. Not only was it likely to solve several problems, she also hated the idea of letting Mathias continue to agonize over an uncertain outcome.