Lust Born

by Jacquie Underdown

  “Amazing,” she whispers.

  She looks at Hadeon, grinning wide now that the fear of traveling here is subsiding and the pleasure of finally being in Fiore takes over. His appearance hits her. How unbelievably different he is, soft and fuzzy, flawless as though he’s a photoshopped picture. His skin is rich and darkly tanned, no blemishes, and those long, square features and angles of his face have gentled, though his nose is still a little crooked. His eyes are luminous and a lighter brown, appearing like molten caramel. Ariana’s mouth drops open.

  She lifts her hand to his face and runs her fingers down the smooth slope of his cheek, over his jaw, feeling the stubble under her fingertips, down his neck. “What the…”

  Hadeon smiles and it’s as though the sun has just come out—mesmerizing.

  “You’re so fucking sexy,” she says.

  The brown of his eyes darkens, and his brow furrows, but with none of the harshness she is used to seeing. “Enough,” he says. “We’ve got a job to do.”

  She nods. “Right. Yes. Of course.”

  Ariana takes a labored step, another. This gravity will be difficult to get used to; it compresses her frame.

  She peers up at Hadeon. “Oh my…this place is so beautiful.”

  He nods. “But it doesn’t all look like this. The Sun Queen is scorching it. Her burning tendrils haven’t touched this side of Fiore yet, but it won’t be long.”

  Ariana shudders. Seeing it in the flesh, the aesthetically wondrous place, makes losing it all the more personal. “I just can’t quite grasp that this is real. Everything has a kind of shimmer and a haziness that makes it feel like I’m dreaming.” She looks up at his face again. “And you…I can’t get used to seeing you like this.” Tears prick her eyes. “I’m a little overwhelmed. I’m sorry,” she says, wiping at her cheeks.

  Hadeon strokes her face and slides a long strand of hair behind her ear. “You need to be strong. We’ve no time for adjustments. We only have six months until your birthday. You need to be at the Spring Blossom Palace by then.”

  Her lips part. The sensation of his fingers touching her face embed her cheek with fiery bliss. “Oh, that feels amazing,” she whispers. She takes his big hand and rolls it between hers, relishing the warmth and sensation tingling through her fingertips, palms, and up her arm. “Why does it feel so good?”

  Hadeon’s eyes are half-closed in a long, lazy blink. He breathes in deeply, chest expanding. “It’s just the way it is here. I’d forgotten…”

  Her lips find his; plush warmth coats her mouth and drizzles down her throat. “Unbelievable,” she moans against him as her tongue finds entrance between those lips and slides across his satiny tongue, savoring each and every enhanced sensation. Her sex clenches.

  Hadeon snaps back, chest heaving. “Stop! Come on. We need to get out of the open.”

  Ariana shakes her head. “God. What is it with this place?”

  “It’s just how Fiore is.”

  She smiles wide. “I like it.”

  He grins. “Of course you do. It’s home.”

  Hadeon grips her hand and leads her down the luscious white hill. They walk for hours. Every muscle and joint is aching. The gravity is taking its toll. Even when Hadeon carries Ariana on his back for a mile or so, she finds no reprieve.

  Under the shade of a cluster of navy-blue trunked trees with aqua leaves, Ariana jumps off Hadeon’s back and slides her arms out of her backpack. Angrily, she throws it to the ground. It feels like a bee or an ant has crawled under her shirt and stung repeatedly across her back. Tears cling to her cheeks.

  Ariana lifts her shirt off, takes off her bra, and whimpers. “What’s on my back?”

  Hadeon grimaces. “Put your shirt back on now!”

  She squirms, trying to look over her shoulder down to her back, but it’s impossible to see. “But what’s there? Has something bitten me? Have I had an allergic reaction to something?”

  He grabs her shirt out of her hand and starts to dress her.

  She slides her arms in and winces as he pulls it down. “Oh God, it hurts so much.”

  “You have to keep yourself covered,” Hadeon growls.

  “Okay, okay. I will. But please tell me, what the hell is it?”

  Hadeon lowers his voice. “Your House symbol has started to come in.”

  Ariana gasps. “What? A tattoo?”

  He nods.

  “I didn’t know girls got them. I thought it was only men.”

  He places both hands on her shoulders. “Royal girls get them too. It’s like a proof stamp of your lineage. So we must be careful. No one can see that. Not until we get you home.”

  “Why?”

  “They’ll know you’re a royal and they’ll kill you. We don’t want the Sun Queen knowing you’re alive…yet.”

  Ariana shudders. “What?”

  Hadeon grips her wrist and pulls her down to the grass with him. He takes out a water bottle and some food. “Here,” he says, handing them to her. “The Sun Queen wanted not only your parents dead, but any offspring that could lay future claim to the crown. She would’ve stopped at nothing to see you eliminated. It was decided that the safest place for you would be hidden away on Earth—the only other world with a similar atmosphere to Fiore, where a child could survive. So when you were six months old, Granny smuggled you out of Fiore.”

  Ariana gasps. “Granny?”

  Hadeon nods. “She took you to Scotland and made a home for you there. Rumor soon told of where you were hidden and the Sun Queen sent feelers out seeking the truth. So Granny sent you away, where no one would ever find you. Eventually the rumors subsided and Fiore and the Sun Queen believed that you were dead.”

  “But you knew where I was?”

  Hadeon nods. “I’ve been training my entire life for you—to bring you home safely.”

  She shakes her head and mouths no.

  “And I won’t rest until I’ve done exactly that.”

  “I—I don’t understand. Why now? Why the book?”

  “The book has been in the Spring Blossom’s safekeeping for thousands of years. Just as we started making plans to bring you home, it found you.”

  “This is all so surreal.”

  “It’s going to get very real, very quickly.”

  * * * *

  Ariana can barely place one foot in front of the other. The ground feels like thick, sticky mud trying to pull her down into its depths, and concurrently, a weight above is forcing her there too. Hadeon carries her bag, because it is too heavy, but also because her back is burning from the tattoo scoring her skin from underneath. For the last two hours, her belly has been sore too, like the tip of a sharp blade is scratching across her skin.

  Hadeon grips her hand tightly, pulling her alongside him. “We’ll be able to rest for the night just over this hill. There’s a seaside village.”

  They march up the sloping white landscape to the top of the hill. The warm breeze blows her hair across her face, offering relief from the scorching sun, still hot even though it’s setting. The air has a different scent, not of brine, but of spices—cardamom and cinnamon. She shivers.

  “This is where Gaius came from?” She knows from the smell, a scent once deliciously aromatic to her, but now sickens her stomach.

  Hadeon nods. “Silver Shores. The home of Shifters.”

  Silver Shores is a long way from Ireland, but Gaius had her fooled with his phony accent and tales of home.

  “They can shift in and out of sight as they please,” Hadeon continues. “So remember that when we get to town. You never know who’s watching.”

  As they approach the summit, there are glimpses of the bay. Little blue timber houses with small white lawns cluster near the shoreline of the shiny silver ocean and a beach of red glasslike pebbles glinting under the red sun. An orange haze drifts over the seaside town, making the quaint houses appear luminescent.

  “I see why it’s called Silver Shores,” Ariana says as she scans the scene.
>
  “If anyone asks, you’re my cousin. I’m bringing you from Romark and escorting you to Pursia to stay with your aunt.”

  Ariana nods.

  “I have a friend here. He and his wife should be able to take us in for the night.”

  “Can we trust him?”

  Hadeon doesn’t even hesitate with his answer. “No. Until you are safely at home, we trust no one.”

  Chapter 19

  Hadeon knocks on the faded blue door as shadows have stretched across the landscape, turning the grass an eerie gray and the silvery ocean black. A dull red glow creeps with the wind, winding through and around the compacted houses.

  A short man, no taller than Ariana and no higher than Hadeon’s chest, answers the door. “Hadeon? My. How long has it been?”

  “Years.”

  “And who is this?” he asks, his gaze flickering over Ariana’s face.

  “My cousin, Ariana.”

  He takes her hand in a quick shake. “I’m Paulao. I’m sure Hadeon’s mentioned we went to school together.”

  Ariana nods. “He has. Good to meet you.”

  Paulao gestures inside with a sweeping arm movement. “Please, come in. You look exhausted, Ariana.”

  “Um—”

  “We’ve been spending the day exploring the hills. We’re stopping in on our way through to Pursia,” says Hadeon. “Ariana’s going to spend some time with her extended family.”

  “Wonderful.”

  Inside is dimly lit with yellow wax candles, flickering with bright red flames. Ariana looks around at the timber walls and floors and the combustion oven—Fiore is like stepping back in time.

  Paulao gestures for them to sit at the kitchen table. “Tea?”

  Ariana nods.

  “Yes. Thank you,” Hadeon says, appearing enormous in the tiny kitchen as he sits on a small timber-framed chair.

  “My wife shouldn’t be too long. She’s gone to collect supplies for her classes tomorrow.”

  “I did hear that you married a teacher.”

  Paulao nods. There’s a dull sadness in his eyes. “And what about you, Ariana? What’s your assignment?”

  Ariana opens her mouth, only to snap it shut.

  “She’s yet to turn twenty-one,” says Hadeon.

  Paulao places a cup of tea in front of them both. “Ah, still only a young flower.”

  “Flower?” says Hadeon.

  Paulao’s eyebrows arch high as he addresses Ariana directly. “Surely you’re a Spring Blossom, are you not?”

  Hadeon grimaces. “No. She’s from Romark. Though, it’s been predicted she’ll be assigned as a gardener when her birthday arrives. Perhaps that’s something to do with the similarity?”

  Paulao’s brows lift subtly then fall back into place. He shrugs. “Perhaps.”

  * * * *

  The night is thick and has settled like a black tent over the town by the time Paulao’s wife, Rissa, returns. She’s tall. Taller than Paulao, with long, gangly limbs and fingers. But what are strange are her pale gray irises. So gray they almost appear white. Ariana wraps her arms around her middle and shudders.

  Rissa is mostly silent as they eat dinner, her attention always on her plate. The only time she offers anything is when asked a direct question, and even then her voice is so soft it’s barely audible. Ariana shivers on more than a few occasions when Rissa lifts her ghostly gaze from her plate and stares—such desolation emanates from her.

  After dinner, they are shown to their room and Ariana goes to the bathroom for a shower. She stands in front of the mirror, which hangs above a small sink. On the back wall is a shower with a short copper showerhead. Nothing else. Barely room to spin a circle.

  This is the first time Ariana has seen her reflection since they arrived. But as she takes in her reflection, it’s not Ariana staring back. Not exactly.

  Her head reels. She leans against the sink for balance. She draws a breath in as she stares at her hands then dares to look again at the mirror.

  She touches her cheeks, proportionate, soft, rounded lines and plush-pink accentuated cheekbones. Her top lip bows prettily, the bottom full and lush. Her eyes shine, crisp apple green, big and round. Her long sable hair is silky, luminous, and her skin is flawless.

  I’m beautiful.

  Ariana lifts her shirt off. The pain in her back and stomach has subsided, and she has been aching to see what the tattoos look like.

  Ariana pulls down her shorts and panties and peers at her naked reflection. She covers her mouth with her hand to muffle a gasp. She turns her back to the mirror and looks over her shoulder at the reflected image. Her entire back, once flawless tanned flesh, is a writhing, curling mass of spring blossoms in pinks and whites, brown branches, and young plump buds.

  She spins back to face the mirror to see the swirling mass of blossoms creeping along the curve of her stomach, up around her breasts, and spreading across the fullness as though cupping her. The imagery is stunning, vivid, as it breathes and pulses under her skin. But she doesn’t know how she feels about having her skin permanently marked in such a conspicuous way.

  With a trembling hand she touches a flower. Heat pulses against her fingertip and within her body. Strangely erotic, like she’s squeezed a nipple between her thumb and finger. She sucks a breath of air in as she traces along a branch. Her skin is still smooth, but the sensations are intense.

  The door creaks and opens. Ariana’s heart thumps and she tries to haphazardly cover herself. “I’m in here.”

  A head pops around the door, a gray desolate glare. Then Rissa’s head disappears behind the door and she slams it shut. Ariana runs to it and locks it. Though she thought she had already done that.

  She turns on the taps, washes herself extra fast, dresses, and creeps down to the room where she will be spending the night with Hadeon. Ariana slides in through the door, shuts it quietly behind her, and leans against it.

  Hadeon, already showered, is lying on the bed, hands behind his head. He looks enormous on the small mattress.

  “Rissa saw me,” she whispers.

  Hadeon sits up. “What do you mean?”

  Ariana paces to him and sits down. “Naked. She saw my flowers.”

  Hadeon stills. “Are you certain?”

  Ariana nods. “Of course I’m certain. She looked straight at me when I was about to hop in the shower.”

  He sighs.

  “What’s wrong with that woman? She scares the hell out of me.”

  “Paulao pulled me aside earlier. A couple of months ago she went to Spring Blossom Palace for supplies. He thinks she was attacked on her way home by the Sun Queen.”

  “Attacked how?”

  “He’s not entirely certain, but he thinks some of her soul was stolen or a spell of some type was cast upon her. She can still function at the most basic level, but she’s a shell. Paulao says there are thousands upon thousands of people this has happened to. And many Enchantresses have been found dead with their hearts removed. He thinks the Sun Queen is using the souls and eating the hearts to increase her power somehow.”

  Ariana rubs the back of her neck. “Horrible. Disgusting. How can she do that?”

  Hadeon shakes his head. “That’s the Sun Queen. She’s ruthless. More so every day that passes. Paulao is distraught. He’s lost his wife.”

  “How terrible for him.”

  “So I’m thinking it may not be so dangerous that Rissa knows. Perhaps she didn’t even register what it means for you to have those markings.”

  Ariana shrugs. “Maybe. What good would it do her to tell the Sun Queen about me anyway? Surely it’s in their best interest that I make my way home and do what I can to stop the Sun Queen.”

  Hadeon squeezes his lips together for a moment, then says, “We’ll leave as soon as it’s sunlight.”

  Frowning, Ariana nods. Hadeon lies back on the bed and holds his arms out for her. She climbs to his side and cuddles into his warm, protective body, her ass perfectly fitting against hi
s thighs.

  “Sleep. You’ll need it,” he says and kisses her head.

  “I love you,” she says, words weighted with weariness.

  He wraps an arm around her tighter. “I love you too.”

  Chapter 20

  Ariana awakens to a sound—like a shuffling or a rubbing of material on material. She opens her senses to the dim room. Through her sleepy haze she stares into pale blue eyes framed by a man’s face twisted in desperation.

  Paulao. He is standing beside the bed. He wields a knife, blade pointed down, perched a few feet above her and speeding toward her chest.

  Ariana screams.

  An arm juts out from behind, and a heavy shadow springs over her. A sputtering, choking sound and a futile effort to suck in air fills the silence.

  Ariana scrabbles to her feet and recoils against the wall at the end of the bed. Hadeon is crouching above the limp body of Paulao, his hand clamped to his neck like a lion capturing a gazelle.

  But another shadow slinks in unannounced. Rissa. She’s whispering quick words.

  A spell.

  Ariana’s heart thumps faster.

  She needs to stop her. Ariana springs to her feet, runs along the mattress, and dives off the bed directly on top of Rissa. Air whooshes from between Rissa’s lips as her lungs are depleted of their life force.

  Ariana clamps a straining hand against Rissa’s mouth. “Don’t speak,” she says. “Shut up.”

  A piercing pain slices through her palm. Ariana tries to pull away, but Rissa’s teeth have clamped down hard.

  Ariana summons a burning flame onto a fingertip of her free hand. She holds it under Rissa’s jaw until it singes her flesh. Rissa gasps, releases her dogged clinched jaw, and Ariana yanks her hand away.

  Rissa punches and claws at Ariana’s face and chants again. Ariana summons energy from within, pulls it from without, and centers it in her arm. It explodes from her fist as she punches Rissa’s cheek. Rissa’s eyes roll back and her head slumps to the side.

  Ariana rolls off of her, panting, and fumbles with a candle, lighting it with her finger. The room illuminates, though it’s dull.