Pure Surrender

by Aja James

  © Copyright by Aja James 2019

  Dear Reader:

  I hope you will enjoy the seventh installment of the Pure Ones saga on the following pages (Book #10 in Pure/ Dark Series). You will soon see that much more is yet to come.

  Every story has many points of view, many different interpretations and versions of the truth. So what about the perspective from the Dark Ones’ POV? I hope you have a read in Book 2, Dark Longing. And meet Cloud and Aella for the first time in Book 1, Pure Healing, available in Audible.

  Email me at megami771@yahoo.com to find out more. And follow me on https://www.facebook.com/AjaJamesAuthor and https://aja-james.blog/. I will have free chapters, behind the scenes and other goodies on the Pure/ Dark Ones series.

  I love hearing from you!

  Enjoy!

  Aja James

  Contents

  Glossary

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Other Books in the Pure/ Dark Ones series:

  Glossary of Characters

  Glossary

  Awakening: test of courage and strength of spirit which leads to the subject, who possesses a Pure soul, coming into his/her Gift, a supernatural power, if he/she passes the test.

  Dark One: supernatural being who prefers to live in the night and who gathers energy and prolongs his/her life by feeding off the blood, and sometimes souls, of others. Dark Ones are born, not made. Sometimes confused with the term vampire.

  Decline: condition in which, or process of, a Pure-Ones’ life force depletes after he/she Falls in love but does not receive equal love in return. The Pure One weakens and his/her body slowly, painfully breaks down over the course of thirty days, leading ultimately to death unless his/her love is returned in equal measure.

  The Dozen: see Royal Zodiac.

  The Elite: six royal personal guards of the Pure Queen.

  Eternal Mate: the destined partner to a given Pure soul. Each soul only has one mate across time, across various incarnations of life. Quotation from the Zodiac Scrolls describing the bond: “His body is the Nourishment of life. Her energy is the Sustenance of soul.”

  Gift: supernatural power bestowed upon Pure Ones by the Goddess. Usually an enhanced physical or mental ability such as telekinesis, superhuman strength and telepathy. True Blood Dark Ones also possess powerful Gifts. See True Blood.

  The Goddess: supernatural being who is credited with the creation of the Pure Ones. She is a deity to which Pure Ones devote themselves. She protects the Universal Balance.

  Nourishment: the strength that Mated Dark Ones take from each other’s blood and body through sexual intercourse. Once Mated, they will no longer need others’ blood to survive, only that from each other. Sexual intercourse is required to make the Nourishment sustaining.

  Nourishment is also what Pure males provide their females as Eternal Mates. See Eternal Mate.

  Pure One: supernatural being who is eternally youthful, typically endowed with heightened senses or powers called the Gift. In possession of a pure soul and blessed with more than one chance at life by the Goddess, chosen as one of Her immortal race that defends the Universal Balance.

  The Royal Zodiac: twelve-member collective of the Elite, the Circlet and the Queen of the Pure Ones.

  Sacred Laws (Pure Ones): One, thou shalt protect the purity, innocence and goodness of humankind and the Universal Balance to which all souls contribute. Two, thou shalt maintain the secrecy of the Race. And three, thou shalt not engage in sexual intercourse with someone who is not thy Eternal Mate. Also known as the Cardinal Rule.

  Shield: referred to as the base of the Royal Zodiac, wherever it may be. Not necessarily a physical location.

  Sustenance: the strength that Mated Pure-Males take from the Pure-females’ spirit. Once Mated, the Pure-male becomes dependent upon the Pure-female for sustaining his life. If his Mate dies before him, he too will perish. In equal exchange, the Pure-male provides Nourishment. See Nourishment.

  Zodiac Prophesies: events yet to come, foretold by the Seer of the Pure Ones through the Orb of Prophesies.

  Zodiac Scrolls: events past, recorded by the Scribe of the Pure Ones.

  Prologue

  Darkness is in all of us.

  Darkness is all I know.

  All I see.

  Churning in an unfathomable chasm in front of me. All around me.

  Inside of me.

  Darkness devours.

  Ravaging my soul. Eviscerating my heart. But for one flicker of light in the yawning, infinite void…

  My Eternal Mate. My Blooded Mate. The one and only female I have ever, and ever shall, love.

  Ishtar Anshar, the heaven’s brightest star.

  It has been thousands of years since I lost my sight. More accurately, since the light that entered my eyes was forever extinguished.

  Two years ago, when I was reunited with my Mate, a ghost of that light reentered my deadened orbs, making me imagine and hope that my love’s burning brightness can reignite the blackened embers of my soul.

  For a time, her love healed me. A scattering of ephemeral joy across the millennia of my existence. That was all the time we’d ever had together.

  The blinking brightness of her light in my darkness have been so few that I can count them on one hand.

  During the ancient Akkadian empire when we first met. When we came together. When she made me her Blood Slave.

  And two years ago in New York City, when we finally Claimed each other as Mates.

  Finally, on that fragrant, summer night, she freed me from millennia-old bonds, her venom in my veins that enslaved my body and blood to her every need. The Claim that my captor could never defeat, no matter how inventive and depraved her methods.

  After over four millennia, my physical self is once again my own.

  But I am not truly free. I wonder if I ever will be.

  For Darkness had strangled me in her claws long, long ago. Made me her whore and plaything. Tortured me for hours upon hours every day and night.

  Endlessly. Relentlessly. Mercilessly.

  And even when the punishments became less frequent, sometimes with months in between during the last few centuries of my imprisonment, there was not a single moment that my body didn't suffer the phantom pain. Even worse than the reality, for the anticipation of what was to come.

  She had taught me to anticipate the vilest debasement, the cruelest agonies. Even when I rested, dreams of violence raped my mind.

  She trained me well—Anunit Salamu. The Dark Star. My love’s twin sister and nemesis.

  Anu Medusa, as she is known in modern times.

  The Serpent has trained me so well, that even now, two years reunited with my one True Love, our daughter Inanna, her Mate Gabriel, and Benji, their adopted son, I wonder more often than not whether death would be preferable to living.

  I’ve told her this before, but I do not think Ishtar believes me:

  There is a part of me that hates her for bringing me back to the living by binding my life force to hers. For making me want to live.

  When I was still a prisoner, blind, helpless and weak, armed only with rage
and stubbornness to thwart Medusa’s revenge, I lived for the hope of knowing Inanna again. For the dream of Ishtar.

  But what happens when you obtain what you have always known, in the dark depths of your subconscious, to be unobtainable? What happens when the fighting ends?

  What happens when you realize, that in the process of battling demons, you’ve broken in too many places and bled for far too long to ever be whole again?

  How do I tell my only love that sometimes, when I am inside of her, Nourishing her with my body, worshiping her with my heart and craving her with my soul—all I can see in my mind’s eye is her sister’s sinister face warped with unholy glee?

  All I can feel is her sister’s claws and fangs and endless instruments of torture ripping into my flesh, into my veins, carving me apart piece by piece, until only scars upon scars remain, festering wounds open and raw.

  And when I find release, I no longer feel pleasure. It is merely the command of my mind for my body to give my Mate the Nourishment she needs.

  It devastates me.

  Every. Time.

  I find no satisfaction in filling her, in being the only male who has the privilege to fulfill her needs. I only recall the devices Medusa used to extract my seed for her experiments. Needles, knives, clamps with spikes…There is nothing inside and outside of my physical self that the Serpent hasn’t probed and shredded, cut open and dissected.

  A thousand times. A million times.

  How do I tell the heaven’s brightest star that, twenty-three hours out of every twenty-four, I yearn for the darkest oblivion?

  Medusa may no longer possess my body, but she still overwhelms my psyche. Her vile thoughts grow louder with each passing day. I can feel her powers burgeoning.

  There is a fundamental shift in the air, now laden with the acrid taste of evil that stings my senses as never before.

  Come back to me, my beautiful Monster…

  Her command echoes like thunder in my mind, ringing shrilly in my ears.

  You will never escape me, no matter where you are. You will never purge me from your thoughts, your mind, your soul. I have penetrated every part of you…

  I squeeze my head in both hands and try to quash her terrible, hissing voice.

  Admit it, beautiful Monster, you crave the Darkness. You miss the pain. Next time you are inside of my darling little sister, have her use her claws on you, rip into your gorgeous assh—

  Get the fuck out of my head! I shout in my own mind, crumbling to my knees in the middle of Dark Dreams, the shop and home I share with Ishtar.

  Twisted laughter assaults my eardrums. But not from any external source. Her voice is inside of me, churning through the Darkness within my heart and soul, suffocating my lungs.

  So I shut down completely. I block out all my senses and embrace the numbing void.

  This is the only death I can choose. The only peace I can claim.

  I can feel what my stoicism does to Ishtar. I know her pain as if it were my own. But I am not strong enough to endure the alternative. The momentary pleasures I feel with her cannot protect me from the unending pain.

  One day, the Nourishment she takes from my body and blood will no longer be enough to sustain her. She is already weakening.

  I do not deserve her. But I am too selfish to let her go. I am too selfish to leave Inanna, Gabriel and Benji.

  Too stubborn to stop hoping and believing that our son is still out there, alive, waiting for us to find him.

  I wonder where he is right now, whom he is with. What he has been through. What future lies before him…

  There is only a flicker of light within me. A trembling hope and fathomless love.

  Please, Goddess, let it be enough.

  “At last! I have finally learned to harness my full powers! The ability to shape and penetrate thoughts, to move and even transform objects—my unique Gift of the Element Air. Oh, the possibilities for an immortal Dark One! If I can combine the other ingredients, nothing will be beyond my reach…”

  —From the secret journal of the Vampire Sorceress Circe

  Chapter One

  “You are, by far, the most gorgeous male I’ve ever beheld.”

  Aella Alexander, as she was known to some by her human name, had beheld quite a few examples of supreme maleness across the almost two-thousand years of her Pure One existence.

  She was a connoisseur of male beauty, really, so her compliment now to the male in question was high praise indeed.

  “So shiny and thick…” she murmured appreciatively as she sifted her fingers through the long skeins of hair, cascading down the male’s naked back and sides.

  Her own golden waves often inspired poetry from admirers, but this was something else. The lustrous mane she was close to envying deserved its own sonnet. Perhaps a Japanese haiku.

  “Hot and satiny…” she continued her praise and stroked a covetous hand down a long, graceful neck, across an arching back, to muscular hindquarters that radiated raw power.

  The male twitched and shifted beneath her touch, his thickly-lashed iridescent blue eyes blinking with drowsy awareness, indulgently tracking her movements.

  So unexpected, those pale-colored eyes. There was no other like him in all the world.

  “Merciful Goddess, I can’t wait to ride you,” she whispered, her voice husky with adrenaline and anticipation.

  The male leaned towards her from his superior height, gracefully curving his neck and angling his face to nuzzle her ear, making her giggle with uncharacteristic girlish abandon.

  Wordlessly, he conveyed that he couldn’t wait to be ridden.

  “What do you say, hmm?” she coaxed, and rubbed her face affectionately against the strong, heated column of the male’s neck, then kissed him on the nose.

  His nostrils flared slightly as he inhaled her scent and huffed out a breath. She could feel his pulse accelerating beneath her touch.

  “I’m going to ride you so hard and so fast, you’ll be sore for days in the most spectacular way,” she promised darkly.

  The muscles beneath her hand bunched and flexed and quivered.

  “I’ll take good care of you, baby,” she crooned, sliding her hand down the male’s taut stomach and side.

  “My beautiful, magnificent stallion…”

  A throat cleared behind her, and she whirled around with a startled gasp.

  Ah. Her nemesis arrived to foil her early morning escapade.

  None other than Cloud Drako, her comrade in arms.

  Also known as—the thorn in her side. The itch she couldn’t scratch. The burr in her saddle…

  The tantalizing feast to end all feasts, that was always just out of reach, set before a starving woman.

  Aella surreptitiously measured the one male in the universe who was even more gorgeous, in her extremely scientific and thoroughly considered opinion, than the gigantic white warhorse she was currently petting to her heart’s delight.

  Standing at just shy of six foot five, with incredibly broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, punctuated by perfect globes of masculine buttocks (though well-camouflaged), tapering to long, muscular legs, Cloud was a study in effortless, primal grace.

  He was on the lean side; none of his muscles bulged like boulders. No, his body was less akin to unrefined blocks of stone and more resembled tempered steel, encased in warm, flawlessly smooth ivory skin.

  Like his steed, Cloud possessed unexpected laser blue eyes. Or rather, his warhorse took after its master. As an eternal familiar, the stallion was mentally, emotionally, and often physically linked to Cloud, like an extension of the warrior himself. Hence, the stallion’s eyes also glowed an uncanny blue.

  At least, that was what Aella assumed. Cloud never bothered to correct her if she was wrong.

  The blue eyes were unexpected in the warrior because Cloud had distinctly Asian features, in the long, silky black hair that flowed past his scrumptious ass, the slightly tilted, large, almond-shaped eyes, the sharp angles of his
jawline and chin and his fine, hairless skin.

  Honestly, if he wasn’t so overwhelmingly male, Aella would be the first to admit that he was in fact “prettier” than she.

  At the same time, Cloud’s mixed Slavic heritage was also apparent. The blue eyes, for one. Though Aella suspected it had more to do with his Gift than his genetic makeup. For another, the thick fringe of long black lashes around those hypnotic eyes. The high, chiseled cheekbones and narrow blade of a nose, the angular slope of his brow and the proportions of his leanly muscular physique.

  In other words, Cloud was the most mouth-watering combination of Asian and Western male beauty and bounty that Aella had ever encountered. The need to have him was so overwhelmingly strong that she veritably vibrated like a tuning fork from physical yearning whenever he was near.

  There was only one other male in her entire existence who attracted her this much.

  Aella involuntarily winced at the reminder and suppressed the flow of memories before they could rise too close to the surface of her consciousness.

  The past was best left in the past.

  But that didn’t mean that the present was any less…

  Aggravating.

  In typical Cloud fashion, apart from the throat-clearing to notify her of his presence, and a slight nod in greeting (he was too polite to do otherwise), he simply ignored her as he methodically and efficiently went about preparing for the long day’s travel ahead of them.

  It frustrated Aella to no end that the male she desired so helplessly and obsessively showed no signs of returning her attraction.

  Not once, in the three years that she’d known him.

  Cloud was an Elite warrior, like Aella herself. They, along with Valerius, Tristan, and now Gabriel and Inanna, were personal protectors of the Pure Queen Sophia.