by Tigris Eden
“I’m in love.”
Cleopatra took a step back still holding Belinda in her arms. Her face broke out into a bright knowing smile.
“That is good news, yes?” Her aunt was staring at her with a perfectly arched brow.
“Yes and no?” Her voice rose as she tried to figure out what the right answer was.
“Explain this yes, no.”
“It’s complicated.”
Her aunt looked to her consort and began chatting. This was her way of not accepting Belinda’s answer. She followed, she didn’t think she was being dismissed by the couple. At least she hoped not. It wasn’t like she was stupid. She knew the rules, was aware of how the game was played, but with two men? Two different men, with two distinct needs. How was she going to handle it?
They passed a series of corridors. Each room darker than the next. Everything was in its rightful place. In present time, this entire palace was under the Mediterranean Sea. Beautiful art painted on the walls, statues of marble and lime all adding to the calm ambiance.
“Rest easy daughter of my sister’s blood. All shall be at peace.”
She hoped so. She didn’t want to be stuck in the in-between because her mom was on one of her power trips. Her aunt’s consort turned a harsh glare on her and clucked his tongue. As if he could sense her reluctance to have faith in the outcome.
“We are what fate makes us. Trust in that if nothing else. Your suitor will wake you.” His voice was strong and echoed off the hallways entrance.
“Suitors.” Bells heard herself say.
Her aunt’s consort turned giving her a questioning stare. Cleopatra, however, continued to move down the hall. Her linen skirt whispering against the bare floors.
“Come, Belinda.”
She drew them down another passage, this one lighter than the rest from the natural lightening of the moon. The scent more fragrant. Night lilies and spices from some sort of incense wafted on the air in a lazy breeze.
“Where are we going?”
“Life.” Was her aunt’s response.
“Life?”
“Yes, life. You are the next ruling heir to House Phoenix. You are your people’s life blood.”
She knew this already, but there was no way her mother would allow either of the twins to touch her.
“Mother won’t allow it. She’d rather continue ruling then to see me with my intended.”
Her aunt stopped walking. Her bare feet smacking hard on the concrete as she turned to face Belinda.
“She should be wise not to go against tradition. Feathers have been taken for less.”
Her aunt was right, primaries had been taken for lesser infractions. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to wake up. She did. There was so much she wanted, no needed to tell her men. Death put things in perspective. Had a way of making a person analyze their life. Her last thoughts had been of all she hadn’t said, hadn’t explained. She wanted to give herself fully to them in all ways. No matter the consequences. They were worth it and so much more.
She was being led into a room that held a massive pool, fed by the sea. There was heat rising from its depth, and she knew it was the black stone that heated the waters. Time was not on her side.
“Aunt, I thank you for allowing me time in your presence.”
Cleopatra bowed her head, and the gold on the tips of her braids brushed forward with the sound of soft chimes.
“Come, your suitors will be rousing you shortly.” A long manicured hand reached out and led her to the steps of the warm water. Belinda turned back to say her goodbyes, but her Aunt and Uncle were gone. Still Cleopatra’s words whispered on the wind as she said,” Give your mother my greetings, I shall see you all soon.”
Her brain was foggy, she could hear her, but could no longer see the couple as they disappeared behind a large ostrich feather that was being fanned towards her bath. She felt disoriented, and her brain short circuited as she felt a set of hands touching her in intimate places. One pair of hands were cupping her breasts. Another between her thighs, she gasped and her entire body was pulled under the warmth of the water, swallowing the sound of her moan. It's soothing heat a comfort to her achy skin.
Words were being spoken to her. Lips on her ears. They coaxed and begged her to wake up. She knew them before she saw them. Royce was on one side and Ronin on the other. The palace was replaced by the ever darkening night sky, surrounded by her people and the men she could no longer live without.
# # #
Her nesting phase was over, she’d been woken by the twins, in front of her entire Enclave. A part of her was embarrassed, and another part couldn’t form a coherent string of words to slow them down. A whimper slipped from her lips, her body on fire as the pressure between her legs increased. It was a combination of both men and her body’s attempt at taking her through her transition. First she nested, then she was awakened, only to die in the arms of her intended. She was shedding her old life to embrace her new one. One that included the two men currently whispering wicked things in her ear.
Everyone would witness the birth of the Matria, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Bena stretched on her back, and Belinda could feel the bird’s talons digging into her sides. A pain filled moan escaped her lips, and Royce was there capturing the sound. Ronin kissed the side of her neck. She knew he had issues with being publically affectionate, but for her he was there. Holding her, touching her, and coaxing her body to the release she needed in order to come out of this on the other side.
“I’m burning up.”
“We know Deva,” Ronin said against the side of her neck. Both their breathing sawing in and out of their chests. There was a commotion outside of their lust filled bubble, and she looked over Royce’s shoulder to see her father and mother. Their eyes fixed on her, disappointment shone through with a great deal of malice from Surelle, but her father had nothing but love in his eyes. He nodded his head in her direction and politely bowed his head. She loved him all over again for the small privacy he afforded her.
“Everyone is watching.” She said into Royce’s shoulder.
“We know.”
“I’m sorry it has to be like this. Had I known-” She couldn’t finish the sentence. It wouldn’t have changed anything. It would still have to be this way.
“It’s okay baby, we know this needs to happen, let us worry about the logistics. Royce said, lips soft and warm against her forehead.
Her mind was melting, someone was touching her there, right where she needed to be touched. She let out a deep breath as her body heated further and brought her lips to rest against Royce’s shoulder. She wanted to taste his skin again. One more time so she could remember what he tasted like, carry it with her into the darkness. His shirt was in the way, but she didn’t care. She bit into his skin hard eliciting a strangled hiss from him as his blue blood seeped into the fabric of his shirt. An intense wave of heat hit her hard, and she took a hefty pull at the wound she made on his shoulder. His hand tangled in her hair pulling her face up for his kiss.
It was savage and dark, teeth bit and tugged on the other’s lips. Tongues met in the middle to tangle and coax the other into submission. Royce was taking over, owning the kiss while his brother played with the fire between her thighs. The tongue in her mouth stroked and tugged on her tongue. She couldn’t breathe anymore and had to pull away. At the same time Ronin’s hand moved faster and faster, Bells had to screw her eyes shut to keep from exploding right then. She needed to taste Ronin before her big send off.
Belinda turned her head so that she could connect with his mouth. He pulled away before she had the chance and offered his neck instead. Even after all of this, everything that was happening right now, he still held himself in reserve. Her heart threatened to crack, but she had to get past it. She was sitting up between two of the hottest men in her world, and she was about to shatter into a million tiny little pieces. Literally. She took what he offered, sinking her teeth hard into his neck. Ronin grun
ted but otherwise remained silent. She wanted him to know she was hurt and angry by his actions. She took a long, rough pull on his skin before finally releasing him. Her eyes were hazy, but she could still see the mark she left behind on his neck. He couldn’t hide that.
Royce sucked on her neck. His fingers sifting delicately through her hair sparked tiny shivers to travel the length of her body. Twisting back to face him she moved her hair from the side and exposed the back of her neck. There was a pregnant hush as everything seem to slow down to the smallest crawl. It was like watching a movie reel in slow motion. Royce’s eyes flared wide in confusion first, then in question. She wasn’t going to last much longer, and she’d always wanted to be marked by a man. To be possessed in such a way there left no room for doubt. He hesitated only for a second and then he was there. His lips a soothing balm to the raging fire a light in her body. She felt the first strike of his fangs and shuddered in ecstasy.
Ronin’s hand faltered for a second, and then, he was back to playing her like the guitar he played at night. Sure, strong fingers plucked away at her chords until she felt Bena rip her wide open. Her body bowed between both men, and tightened. She was still aware of the things happening around her as the sound of her flesh being shredded rang in her ears. Bena’s talons dug deeper and deeper until the fire started. She looked up at Royce and used her hands to grip Ronin’s waist in the strongest grip she could manage, offering her neck. His fangs struck fast, and as he pulled her life’s blood from her body she whispered so that they would only hear.
“Wait for me.” She pleaded as the light slowly dimmed from her eyes, and the darkness swallowed her whole.
Chapter 31
They had her blood in their veins. Not intending to take her that way stunned Ronin momentarily. Neither he, nor his brother had taken enough to bind them, but he knew this was her gift to them. She’d given a piece of her old-self. When she returned, she’d be something different. His woman was dying, right in their arms. Her skin darkened to ash, and it was if she became brittle, paper thin. Fragile. He’d watched the bird on her back dug its talons into her sides and rip her open. The bird had then crawled inside the hole it created in Belinda’s back and began to burn a bright blue. Any minute now she’d turn to dust. Ronin watched as her hair began to fall. They couldn’t move, if they did it was a sign of weakness. The heat her body threw off was intense. Still, he and his brother held on as they watched her skin crack. It happened in slow motion at first. One small crack turned into hundreds. Like someone was in a race to connect the dots as it spread over her body. It looked like hundreds of her veins surfaced beneath her skin in a matter of moments but in slow pain-staking clarity. He thought if he listened hard enough he could hear her skin cracking from the inside out. His body jerked in reaction as his mind tried to come to terms with what he knew was natural to her kind. The insurmountable pain he felt was more than he could bare. Ronin’s eyes locked with his brother, and although they could read one another’s thoughts, there was nothing either could say or think as they both experienced deep rooted anguish.
All too soon she was gone. Her ashes settled between them in a cloud of dust. Reduced to gray matter, that smelled of death. Ronin was caught in a tunnel void of sound. He couldn’t hear anything. His sight was blurry. His eyes looked left, then right making sure he had in fact, witnessed her death. He could see mouths moving, but no sound could be heard.
Royce’s voice was the only thing that penetrated his ears, long moments later.
“She’ll be back, right?” He whispered, his voice full of concern as his fingers sifted through her remains.
“She told us to wait. We wait.” Royce said firmly.
Surelle and the others were taking flight. It was like watching a flock of geese that were on fire. There was synergy in their formation as they broke from their pattern and began to circle the Matria. Their wings wisps of flames against the night sky. The last of the sun’s rays were blocked by brilliant colors of gold, red, green, and purple.
“They’re giving thanks and respect to the old Matria.” Dietrich said. “Soon Belinda will rise and be reborn into her new life, her now role.”
“Don’t sound so excited.” Royce said as he stepped toward the crowd that was left on the ground.
They ones who flew blended perfectly with the night as they crested over the mountain tops and dipped low into the valley. The children had come out of their homes as well, pointing and laughing at the aerial displays.
“It is a sight, yes?” This said from Belinda’s sister, Aria.
“Hmm.”
“She will rise soon. Once my mother circles around once more. Look there,” She pointed off in the distance as a majestic phoenix did one more circle above, dipping her wings low, slanting her entire form. As she dove head first for the crowd she righted herself at the last moment and glided until her feet softly connected with the ground. Surelle walked over to Belinda’s ashes gathering some in her hands. She rubbed it across her face and stood out of the way. Others flew down, and one by one they each walked to the altar and repeated the old Matria’s actions. He and his brother took their direction from Dietrich and did the same, covering their face in her ashes. Even the ass clown, Solon was awake and following suit.
It was eerily quiet. No one said a word as they all paid respect to Belinda. Ronin felt out of place, and un-adjusted to what was going on. Something was obviously happening. Aria grabbed his hand and lifted her golden eyes to his and smiled. He didn’t smile back, wouldn’t budge until he had Belinda in his arms again.
There was the sound of wind first, with it came an ever expanding light of brilliant red. The light itself an actual flame licking the night sky. Like a fireball falling out of the heavens, it descended fast as if it had no intention of stopping. Ronin stood his ground as the ball of light drew closer, cutting through the valley leaving flames in its wake. Royce stood next to him, and Aria’s grip on his hand tightened.
He felt the heat first. Waves and waves beat at his skin until it cooled to a simmer. Next came the flames, fast on its heels snapping and popping as a wave of energy reached out and surrounded them. It was all too surreal. One moment intense heat and energy, the next she was there. Radiant and as beautiful as ever. Her raven hair longer, the feathers no longer visible. She was wearing nothing more than the tattoo, which was now sitting atop her shoulders, free of her back. The birds feather were a fiery gold-red, eyes the same violet color as Belinda’s stared at them in recognition. Its talons sharp and digging into her shoulder flexed and rebalanced its weight. It was a bit possessive of its mistress.
“Belinda?”
Her head snapped in his direction, her eyes taking him in from head to too. She smiled and took a step forward.
“Ronin,” she purred. The sound of his name on her lips elicited chills along the base of his neck. The heart in his chest beat stronger, truer.
“Hey cutie.”
“Royce.” She turned at the sound of his brother’s voice, mischief twinkling in both their eyes like they were having a private conversation.
Ronin took a tentative step forward, testing his boundaries. He held out the hand Aria wasn’t holding, and Belinda approached him cautiously at first. Looking from him to his extended hand. Royce also took a step forward, but the damn bird atop her shoulder made a sound closer to a growl than the sound of a bird and spread its wings shaking its head as if telling them both no. What the hell!
# # #
“They are your suitors yes?”
Bena was whispering in her ear, and for the life of her Bells could not understand what her guardian was talking about. She was too enthralled by the men in front of her. They were covered in her death and wearing it proudly. Did they know how much that meant to her? She was hyperaware of the others standing around. They were all watching her actions. There was more to do, things that needed to be said that couldn’t wait. She looked down at her beautiful baby sister Aria, holding Ronin’s hand and smiled.
“Take them both to my rooms.”
Her sister bowed releasing Ronin’s hand to stand on his other side so that she could take Royce’s hand. Neither of them moved at Aria’s urging.
“Go with her. I will come to you soon.” She dismissed them with a glance and knew she’d upset them. It couldn’t be helped, she needed to address her people, and because they were not considered her consorts, she had to address them in private.
The crowd held her immobile. Some were happy with her status, others like her mother, were not.
“Mr. Johnson,” she addressed Dietrich first. “Can you escort Solon to his quarters and see to the needs of my guests?” She didn’t command, but her voice did hold authority.
“Sister, I would speak to you now.”
She sneered in Solons direction, and Bena equally bristled as his request.
“Be happy I allow you to live, mercenary.”
“Belinda! You will not speak to your brother that way.” Her mother warned. Her eyes cutting into the heat of her daughter’s skin. She wasn’t going to acknowledge her mother’s blatant disrespect, but she wasn’t going to let it go without addressing it either.
“You will address me as Matria, and mother, Aunt Cleo promises to visit soon.”
There was an audible gasp from the others in the crowd. Cleopatra never spoke to any of the previous Matria’s. This was common knowledge. You died, and you were reborn, those of Cleopatra’s bloodline would awake in the palace. Those, not of the Matria’s blood were sent to the lighthouse in ancient Alexandria, and were never allowed to walk the grounds of the in-between. There was a ritual to things, and for her aunt to approach her, spoke volumes. Not only to her, but to those in the Enclave. Cleopatra was the last remaining mother of old. The other clans had perished during their time of persecution. She had remained. Cleopatra VII was the true Matria of House Phoenix. A Goddess in her own right.