- 3 -
It was considered rude to look at someone’s soul without their permission.
But… I had looked at Brynn’s essence before.
Several times.
She was the flame that my soul hovered around.
Looking down, it was my turn to blush. I knew what I would see.
Her soul teemed with green energy, overflowing with power. Brynn should have become a mage with that much power.
But, something was wrong inside of her mind. Every time she tried to cast a spell, her soul would revolt, throwing her into a seizure. Even if she was only trying to cast a simple cantrip, like lighting a candle.
Taming her would make me powerful.
“You gave up your dream,” she said, “to take care of Abby and me. If you tame me, you won’t have to give it up.
“I gave up when Blister died,” I told her.
Brynn lifted one eyebrow and cocked her head a bit toward me, just like my mother had done when she caught me in a fib.
“You could have found another master,” she quipped, “except your brother was always drunk. So, you stopped learning and started fighting instead.”
Dammit.
She wasn’t supposed to know…
“You aren’t a dock worker,” she said, revealing that she knew my secret. “You fight in the clubs or the back alleys for money.”
Then, she revealed a bombshell.
“I watched you last night.”
I froze.
Last night had been a terrible match. It wasn’t supposed to be a deathmatch, but my opponent had other ideas.
He had forced me to kill him.
I shuddered, as visions of his pulped face filled my mind. I had beaten him to death.
Trey hadn’t given me a choice. He hadn’t stopped after I had tapped out. And, he had continued beating on me after first, second, and third blood.
His words… I’m going to kill you… slipped through my thoughts.
Brynn touched my hand.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she told me. “Trey wanted to claim me as his.”
That… made my mind quiver.
It was bad enough that Justin had fucked her.
But, to let someone else take her.
I should have done something when Justin had divorced her and left.
But, it had seemed wrong. It had been too soon, too fast. I didn’t want to scare her away.
“The prize money is how you have been taking care of us.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yes,” I said, horrified that she knew my secret. I didn’t want her to think I fought because it was all I could do, or it turned me on.
Which it did.
“Did you enjoy the woman?” she murmured. “I watched you with her… in the alley.”
I blushed harder.
Fighters always had women who showed up at the matches and threw themselves at the victors.
Last night had been good.
I nodded. No point in hiding it.
“She was pretty,” Brynn mentioned, making me look up at her. Something in her voice sounded intrigued.
“Mages have multiple wives,” she announced. I could see the gleam in her eye. This time, it wasn’t a theory that she was discussing. Brynn had plans.
“No,” I said.
“Yes,” she replied. “If we are getting married, then you are becoming an Archmage.”
Her voice left no discussion on the matter.
She came from an Archmage’s polyamorous family. Brynn knew how they worked.
“Look at me,” she said with steel in her voice.
I looked up.
“I don’t want to be a single mother, living on the edges of the Darkness with my daughter. I want a nice house and sister-wives who will help me raise Abigail. I want plenty of food in our kitchen and a strong man in my bed at night.”
I opened my mouth to argue.
Brynn put her finger over my lips.
“I know what my power levels are,” she said. “All children of Archmages do.”
Then, she smiled, “I’m a level three resource, but… you already know that.”
My ears burned. She knew that I had looked at her soul without permission.
It wasn’t what a brother-in-law was supposed to do.
“If you don’t claim my magic, someone else will,” she explained.
Then, continuing, she added, “Even when I was married to Justin, other mages kept bothering me, because my fool of a husband wouldn’t tame me.”
Abigail began fussing, drawing Brynn’s attention to the little girl. She got up and started walking with her daughter, trying to calm the little girl. But, Abigail kept crying, sensing her mother’s agitation.
“You have more energy in you than an apprentice should have,” she said. “After you add mine to yours, you will look like a journeyman-mage if someone looks at your power levels. And, when we get to Ashmouth, my father will help you.”
Suddenly, Brynn turned and knelt in front of me.
“Please, don’t make me go back to him a beggar.”
Brynn bit her lower lip, and I could see tears ready to spill out of her eyes.
“I want to go home as a wife with a magebond,” she added.
Touching my hand, she said, “Please, Bazal. Don’t make me beg.”
My erection flared.
Dammit.
If I sealed our potential connection, I could draw on her untapped mana pools daily. It would give me enough power to do what she said.
“And, we will claim other women on the way home,” she told me. “Before we arrive, so potentially, you could look like a real mage and not a journeyman when we arrive.”
“Claiming a woman… means sleeping with her,” I said, deciding to be as blunt as possible.
“Of course it does,” she said with a nod. “And, it will make them more...“
“Compliant,” I said. “They will be inclined to be my friend and lover.”
Sighing, I added, “But, it is wrong, Brynn. Taking someone’s free will is wrong.”
Brynn groaned. “Do you have any idea how many women would jump at living in a nice home. Thousands of women starve every day who would cut off their right tit if it meant safety, security, and food. A mage can make more money in a day than a working man can make in a month.”
“And,” she added. “You are handsome.”
- 4 -
“Marry me, and bond with me,” Brynn insisted. “Give me everything your brother refused to.”
Leaning in, Brynn said, “I was a fool. I married the wrong brother. Please, forgive me.”
I couldn’t say no.
Hell, I didn’t want too.
Everything that she was offering was what I wanted. It wasn’t polite to say it, but I wanted multiple women in my bed. And, I wanted to live in a nice house with plenty of food and safety.
I wanted to see Abigail grow up not starving in the Darkness.
“Bonding will change you,” I reminded her.
Then, touching her arm, I added, “You’ll never be alone. I will feel your emotions and thoughts. If I want to, I will be able to see through your eyes and feel what you touch. And, you will be even more inclined to like me, no matter what a… bastard… I am.”
I said the last part quietly, not wanting to rile up Abigail any further.
Suddenly, I smelled a dirty diaper.
Brynn laughed when she saw my expression of horror.
“Do you want to be her father?” she asked.
Father.
Holy fuck.
I… Father.
My brain whirled. But, I already knew the answer to that as well.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Good,” she replied. Then, she handed the stinky little girl to me.
“Fathers change diapers,” she insisted, as I held the little girl at arm’s length.
“Justin…” I began.
“Was an ass and a horrible father,�
� she snapped. “You claim to be better. Prove it.”
Fuck.
Nodding, I carried my niece--my soon to be daughter--into the other room.
I knew how to change diapers. I had several younger siblings. But, I hadn’t done it in a long time.
Good Lord.
What the hell had she been eating?
The room filled with the most abominable stench that I could remember. Trying, and failing, not to gag, I changed her diaper like a clueless fool. Brynn slid up behind me, putting a hand on either side of my hips.
I shivered when she touched me, even though I was changing a diaper.
“Good,” she said. “That was a good first attempt.”
Then, she undid the diaper and made me do it three more times before she was satisfied.
Taking Abigail back, Brynn led me into the front room.
“I have an appointment for us today at noon,” she told me.
“Appointment?” I asked.
“To get married,” she replied.
Dammit.
I had forgotten how Brynn planned everything out, meticulously. Living with her and Justin had been easy. She wasn’t my wife, so I came and went as I pleased.
Now, things would be different.
“You knew that I would say yes?” I asked.
She nodded with a smile.
Then, Brynn leaned over and kissed me again.
I blacked out.
Her kisses stole the blood from my brain.
Abigail squawked, unhappy that we were squishing her between us.
Standing up, my fiancee took my hand and led me into the bedroom. She put Abigail on her shoulder and went to my closet.
“Put on this, and this, and this,” she ordered.
Then, Brynn smiled. “Do you need help?”
- 5 -
If Abigail hadn’t been on her shoulder, I would have said yes.
Brynn looked at me with hurried expectation. So, I took off my shirt.
My fiancee’s eyes devoured my physique. I was a fighter. My shoulders were broad, and I was toned. I worked out every day to prepare for the weekly fights.
Without my magic, I would have been a broken mess. Fighting creates bruises and broken bones. I wasn’t a good mage, but I could make a weak healing potion and Blister had tattooed healing spells on my body... I didn’t have the training or skill yet to cast a healing spell or make a device like a healer’s pendent.
Tattoos covered the insides of my arms; one for each arcane test that I had passed before Blister had died.
“When your father sees these,” I said, pointing to them. “He will know that I am an apprentice.”
“Only in name,” she replied. “The trip, and a few wives, will give you the power and skills that will allow him to test you.”
Her eyebrows rose, and she said, “Hurry up.”
I unbuttoned my pants. I had slept in them the night before, and they weren’t what anyone would wear to a wedding.
My mind froze.
Wedding.
Holy crap.
Brynn gasped when my pants hit the floor.
Embarrassed, I turned around. I did not want to change with Abigail in the room at all, but Brynn was insistent. Hurrying, I slipped on the new pair of pants that Brynn had chosen and turned around.
Her face was blushing madly when I looked at her, and she was attempting to control her breathing.
With all her planning, it surprised me that Abigail wasn’t with a babysitter.
But, then, we would have slept together.
And… I guessed that Brynn wanted to save that--and use it as a lure--so I would marry her.
I didn’t like her Machiavellian mindset, but she was a single mother with no income of her own. In Savannah, the only jobs that she would be able to get were wet nurse, nanny, or possibly a seamstress.
Well, that wasn’t true.
Brynn could become a tavern girl or a whore. Well, that was really the same thing.
Even if she had skills, in Savannah, no one would hire a woman to do a job a man could do. It wasn’t fair, but it was how society had evolved after the Darkness had fallen. Equal rights for women were a thing of the past.
I slipped on my shirt, then my socks and shoes.
Nodding, Brynn handed me, Abigail.
Then, she walked out of the room.
I followed, unsure of what she wanted, but she hadn’t…
HOLY Fuck.
The door was open, and Brynn’s dress was on the floor.
I caught a glimpse of her naked body before she walked behind the dressing screen.
She wasn’t wearing any panties… or a bra.
And, her long brown hair had been undone.
It fell to her waist.
I stood in the doorway in shock, replaying that one, quick glimpse over and over again in my mind.
My brother was an idiot.
No one was as beautiful as Brynn.
I could partially see through the dressing screen. The light from the window bathed her skin on the other side, showing me shadows and impressions of Brynn’s hourglass form.
Brynn had bounced back from having a baby without any effort.
I could barely breathe.
Abigail farted.
The stench made me gag and choke, making me forget that her mother was naked on the other side of that sheer piece of fabric.
Brynn laughed.
“I heard that, little one,” she said with a giggle.
The fart was followed by something even nastier.
“Good Lord,” I hissed, holding her out and away from me again.
“Father-time,” Brynn insisted from behind the curtain.
Grumbling, I turned around and changed the little girl again. It was even worse than the last time. We needed to get her on solid food… fast.
I finished and walked back into the living room.
Brynn was waiting for me, in a pretty white dress.
All I could do was stare. She was lovely. My brother’s wife blushed at my look. Then, I realized that her pearls would look pretty with it.
“You should wear your pearls,” I said, hoping that Justin hadn’t hocked them.
“Not today,” she replied.
Suspicious, I asked, “Why not?”
She looked at me and bit her bottom lip again.
Then, I remembered the grimoire.
“You traded them for the book,” I said. “Didn’t you?”
Brynn nodded.
“Brynn, they were your mom’s.”
She stamped her foot. “You need that book to become who we need you to be,” she growled. “When you get your Mage’s robes, you can buy me my own pearls.”
And, that, was that.
- 6 -
We stood together in the front of St. John’s Cathedral, the oldest church in Savannah that had survived the fall of the United States. A priest had been mumbling for almost half an hour while we knelt in front of him.
Abigail was starting to seriously squirm, and I was worried about another diaper incident, when he said, “Bazal Cowan, do you take Brynn Adams to be your wife?”
“Yes,” I replied, as my throat tried to seal itself shut.
The rest of the litany rolled right over my panicking brain. I didn’t hear a lick of it.
But, I heard when Brynn said yes. Her acceptance was only lip service. In Savannah, I could have brought her here--tied up and gagged--and for the right price, we would still have been married.
This way was better, though.
My mind twisted into almost a dream sequence. I remember putting a ring on Brynn’s finger, and she put one on mine. I had no idea where the rings came from, except I did notice that they weren’t Justin and hers. Mine was a loop of silver with black inlay.
Into the Darkness Page 2