Sylfic

by Kenna Bardot

  His hand stretched out, catching my chin between two fingers. He took great care to be gentle, no doubt feeling the eyes of the guard on us. I refused to allow myself to wince. "And this is not a game? This mask you wear on your face to keep me from seeing the fire that burns inside you?"

  "You haven't been paying attention if you think there's fire inside me, Ashric. I am ice and the cold winds of winter, but make no mistake they can burn you just as painfully as fire itself," I warned him.

  The gleeful smile on his face might have been frightening in other circumstances. "I want to take you from them. I want to see the look on their faces when they come for you, all desperate and pining for their precious human, and feel what it is to be ignored." He released my chin, and I smiled at him blandly. “And you gave me that so beautifully, even if something as brief as a moment.”

  He took my arm in his hand, his fingers stroking over the skin on the underside of my forearm like he pictured what it would look like once he marked it with his black moon. His finger dug in, as if he could will his touch to bruise me but couldn’t harm me. “It will be all the more wonderful when I finally claim you permanently. I’ll thoroughly enjoy watching them wilt when I cart you off to our own private suite so I can give you the Bond. I hope they wait. I hope they can see my mark on your skin. I hope you bear the Tovenaar black so they can be reminded that you’re mine. Always and forever.”

  "So it has nothing to do with me? I'm just something you can take away?" I shook my head at him in disbelief.

  "I wouldn't tie myself to you permanently if I didn't desire you in the first place, but the main appeal is to hurt. All of you." We sat in silence for a moment, because I had no response to that. Had no interest in hearing what else he might have to say. Then he just gave me an evil smile. "You're only upset about what I did because you believed it. If you really trust and love them, why would you even consider the possibility that they would be with another woman?"

  I considered my words before I answered him as honestly as I could. Colm nodded to me across the room, signaling that my required time with Ashric had run out. I nodded back at him and stood up to stare him down.

  "I didn't speak to them for five years, and I don't expect you to understand what absence can do to a bond such as ours. It can ruin a person with anxiety and emotional tendencies. I let that happen to me, and that weakness is mine. Not theirs. Not a sign of a lack of strength in our relationship, but my self-doubts."

  He looked at me skeptically, as if he couldn't believe that I would admit a weakness to him. But it was probably a good idea for him to think he had an advantage over me. It meant it would hurt more when I finally bit him back. "But keep in mind moving forward, that I have spoken to them again. I have felt what it is to be protected and surrounded by them. I'll not be so weak again. Not when I've felt what it is to live a life without them for five miserable fucking years."

  I stepped away slowly and away from him in our private nook and into the more public spaces. "Your mistake is that you think it matters if you're weak. It doesn't. All that matters to me, dear Mireyah, is the way you feel beneath me. I do not want you to come to me willingly. I don't want you to want me. I want you to scream and fight, so I can take you, anyway."

  I paused in my steps, controlling my breathing as I turned back to him. "Then shall that day come to pass, I'll very much look forward to slitting your throat while you sleep." Another overjoyed smile crossed over his features, and I smirked at him despite how unsettled it made me feel. "Goodbye, Ashric. Perhaps the next time we speak you might prove to be a little less predictable. Otherwise, you might bore me to death long before you can ever touch me."

  I turned, strolling across the floor as the small trail on my midnight dress glided across the tile behind me.

  I contemplated joining the other Sylfes and Gods in conversation, letting Ashric see me unbothered and social. But that wasn't me.

  And fuck that noise.

  Chapter 16

  Mireyah

  Astraea frustrated me to no end. As much as I loved the girl, her self-pity and self-hatred of herself was entirely unfounded. I could understand if she had ended up in Sylfeshire because she hadn't been able to Ascend, but given that it had been her choice? I didn't get it at all.

  She'd chosen to walk away from the House whose name she bore. The House where her power came from. All because it wasn't her, because the dark beings who inhabited that house couldn't have been further from what she was. She'd had the courage to know herself, and to risk the Unwanted Lands and the humiliation that came with not Ascending, all because she'd held true to who she was.

  She should have been proud of that choice, not acted like she was a lesser being for it. So after none of my cajoling got her to go out, I sat with Oryn instead. Whether she saw it, she infatuated him and not like the creepy fixation of Ashric Tovenaar. I suspected there wasn't a kinder God on Demiorgo.

  I knew mine definitely did not fit that bill.

  When I poked my head into the alcove, he gave me a self-deprecating smile and scratched the back of his neck. "Hello, Mireyah. Couldn't convince her, I take it?" he asked when I sat down next to him on the bench.

  I chuckled and flushed lightly. I hadn't thought to realize he would know where I disappeared after seeing him. "She's stubborn. Set in her mind that you deserve better than her, but I'm wearing her down, I think."

  "If anyone can, I suspect it's you. I haven’t met a lot of Sylfes, but you’re a strong personality, Mireyah. She's quiet and sweet, but underneath all that the two of you are similar." I nodded at him, surprised he saw it. It took a special personal to see the strength that churned under the polite and meek shell that Astraea presented to the world.

  Most proved incapable. But not Oryn. He probably understood the woman he loved more than she did herself.

  "I want to Declare for her," he admitted, closing his book with a sigh and setting it on the bench next to him. "But she knows I can't do that unless she comes out. She has to be present."

  I chuckled, because I finally understood the look of betrayal she gave me when I suggested she join me in the Visitation area when she knew Oryn would be there. I should have known, given the way it had worked to my detriment with Ashric. "She's coming around. I just need more time to convince her she's ready for this."

  He sighed. "She acts like I would Declare for her, force myself on her if she genuinely didn’t want nor love me. But she can’t give me those words that would help free me. She only tells me I deserve better and that I shouldn't wait for her. It’s a sacrifice for her, never a denial. Never anything about her not wanting me. I've been patient, and I want her to be ready when I Declare, so we can both know that it means we're stepping forward into our future."

  "But?"

  "But sometimes I want to drag her kicking and screaming and force her to admit there's something between us, that there always has been," he chuckled and looked down at his hands. “My hands itch to touch her, long to feel her again. A hundred years is a long time to wait.”

  I laughed along with him, observing the others who loitered about. "I don't think there's any harm in pushing her more, so long as you keep an eye out for her boundaries."

  "Well," he admitted. "I would need to see her to cross boundaries, and she has proven elusive. As of yet, we need not worry about it." I picked up his book off the bench, running my fingers over the spine.

  "Perhaps you could write her a note," I whispered as the idea struck. "It would be a way to speak to her without her having to risk your Declaration just yet."

  “Not a bad idea. I never considered it before because I had no one I felt I could trust enough for it. But, yes, not a bad idea.” Reaching over to his book, Oryn found a blank page at the back and pulled a pen from the pocket of his pants. It quite surprised me he had a pen in his pants, but it made sense given he gave off such a scholarly vibe. I watched him scribble something down, considering his words carefully as he went.

  T
rying to give him a semblance of privacy, because I didn't need to know what was said between the two of them or the intimate details of the relationship they would come to have, I stood and leaned against the side of the alcove to watch my fellow Sylfes conduct themselves around the Gods and Goddesses. Jessica sat in the lap of another God who seemed uninterested to have her there, and my heart hurt for her. For all of them.

  So desperate to Ascend, so entrapped by the circumstances of their lives and with no other choice but to sacrifice bits of themselves to avoid a pit of eternal damnation, where it was rumored blood-soaked creatures roamed the caverns.

  Feral monsters who fed on the blood of the Unwanted.

  I shuddered to think of the life Lysandra might find there if she couldn't set aside her anger and find someone she could spend her life with.

  I heard the rustling of paper, and I spun back around to see Oryn fold up the paper. He stared down at it for a moment before offering it up to me. "Here, take this to her. I say it in that but in case she doesn’t read it, I'm giving her space, but I will be back in several weeks. I hope to see her then." His hand touched mine sadly, and then he stood and strolled off, leaving Sylfeshire behind. I rushed off to give Astraea the note, just hoping that it would at least save one of my friends from the Unwanted Lands.

  I didn't make it far before I bumped into Shep's broad form staring down at me in a glare that didn't even attempt to be subtle. At first, I wasn’t too sure if it was Shep. I wasn’t sure if he could be there, but given that the guards had allowed him in, it looked like he was still allowed.

  "Shep!" I gasped in surprise and reached up to hug him in case he did suddenly disappear. I had seen little of them aside from their assigned time where they came to visit me, and while it hurt, I also suspected that there were restrictions placed on them as relatively new Gods. Sylfeshire was considered a luxury. I didn't know the first thing about the way the hierarchy worked with the Gods, but I could only assume it was as regimented as my life as a Sylfe had been until I’d gotten my Declarations.

  Thankfully, they’d been able to come together and Declare for me because if they hadn’t, I wouldn’t know what to do. Wouldn’t know how I would feel knowing we couldn’t be together.

  I grinned up at him, pressing myself tighter into his chest and wrapping my arms around his back. The feel of him there, the comfort of the bulk of him against me gave me an instantaneous comfort I hadn't felt since they'd left.

  "Are the others here too?" I asked, knowing the question wouldn't offend him. We were all the most content when we were together, not just two or three of us, but all of us.

  "They're getting us a private room. We wanted more time with you," he grunted, but his eyes remained focused on the alcove where I’d come from. On the heels of Oryn, who had been rushing out himself.

  It didn’t take a genius that there’d only been two of us there and being the most jealous of my men; it didn’t surprise me he would jump to illogical conclusions. I smirked to myself, feeling thoroughly entertained given that it truly was an innocent conversation with the God I hoped would give my friend the Sire Bond.

  "Well, let's go join them then. I’ve missed them. You. All of you.” I threaded my arm through the crook of his elbow and held close, happy to be as close as possible.

  Another grunt hit my ears, but he nodded above me. We walked off, and I guided him towards the row of privacy rooms. The noises drifting out of them were horrific, slapping flesh and moans and groans. Some never even bothered to close the door, which seemed ridiculous. What was the point in using a private room if one didn't want privacy?

  Fucking Gods.

  Literally.

  I huffed a laugh to myself, tugging on Shep's arm until we found the room where the other four waited. The door stood wide open, and they were posed - waiting for us and arranged like art. Char in a chair. I snorted as the laugh burst through.

  Char in a chair.

  "What is it?" he asked, and I thought for a moment he meant my hysteria, but when I glanced over to him his eyes were stern on Shep's.

  "It seems Mireyah is entertaining another admirer," Shep declared, that deep voice too calm for my taste. I suspected that meant terrible things for me.

  Ruh roh.

  I hoped that was wrong. Really, really hoped for my sake.

  "That's not true!" I hissed, turning to glare at him. "First off, you’ve Declared for me so entertaining another admirer makes little sense. That fact notwithstanding, you're being ridiculous. I may speak to other men who I happen to be friends with." I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling deprived that our time together would be wasted on an argument. I hadn't been with them, with anyone, in five years. I wanted to remedy that, not deal with Shephard's absurd jealousy.

  "Who is he?" Char asked in that calm way that threatened he was a moment away from giving me pain.

  "His name is Oryn, and he’s a Kald," I said with an eyebrow raise. "He's my friend."

  "Is he trying to fuck you?" Shep asked. "I saw him passing you a note. Aren't you a little cynical for love letters, Mireyah?"

  "Hmm, I wouldn't know. I've never received one, have I?" I asked him with a tease. "None of you ever thought to do that. Never thought to woo me when you couldn't enjoy the benefits of it. Can't exactly fuck me when I'm hidden behind a wall of glass, can you?"

  Shep's nostrils flared, anger dancing on every feature of his face. "What was in the note, Mireyah?" Even Char's typically calm voice held an edge of threat, and I turned to level him with my glare.

  "It was a love letter," I paused. "For my friend Astraea. Oryn has been in love with her for decades."

  “Will you let us see it?” Hollis asked, speaking up for the first time.

  “No. It would be a breach of privacy if I read his letter.” I reached up and tucked it down my dress.

  “We’re not exactly opposed to tearing that dress off of you to get the letter, Mireyah.” Ryle stepped forward from his position on the bed.

  “I’m not exactly opposed to taking off this dress and letting you fuck me but you’re still not reading the letter.” I took a deep breath. “Do you remember that conversation we had about trust?”

  Tate chuckled. “She has a fair point.”

  “Thank you,” I huffed out, giving him a bright smile before narrowing my eyes on Shep.

  Shep deflated, staring at me with a bit of shame. "You shouldn't be talking to other men. Not in the circumstances. People could interpret it the wrong way, and when you have so many males competing for you already, you don't want to establish a reputation."

  I spun on him, shoving his stupid chest until he stumbled back a step with surprise on his face. "Excuse me?" I whispered.

  "Uh-oh. Retreat, Shep. Retreat," Hollis warned with a laugh. “I’m going to go with just trust, Mireyah. I promise.”

  "Do I need to remind you that five of the seven males competing for me are the group of you? Maybe I shouldn't be in a private room with you. After all, I wouldn't want a reputation," I snarled, turning for the door. Shep's hands snatched me around the waist, lifting me off my feet and carting me to the bed until he pressed me into it face down with his body weight covering me. "Get off me!"

  "Hush, Mireyah," Char warned, stepping around the bed until he looked down at my face. Hair stuck to my mouth and when I tried to reach up and wipe it away, Shep's hands secured my own behind my back.

  "What the fuck are you doing?"

  "You're out of control," Char warned. "It appears in our time apart you have forgotten who's in charge."

  "Fuck you," I hissed, flinching away when he used a thumb to swipe the hair from my mouth.

  "That's the plan," he smirked. "We're all going to fuck you. Remind you that while we love that strength and that mouth of yours, it is not to be used against us. We are yours, now that we've established that. I believe it's time that we remind you that you are ours."

  "That means not looking too intimate with other men," Shep grunted behind me, eas
ily restraining my body even as I bucked against him.

  "You're practically feral. So desperate to keep control that you've forgotten how good it feels to give us control. To let us take you and make you feel things that will never be possible with another man," Char continued, and I felt the moment the others climbed onto the bed to surround us.

  "There are two kinds of freedom, pet," Hollis murmured. "The freedom to do as you please that you're so desperately clinging to."

  "And the freedom from choice. The freedom from bearing the consequences of your actions," Tate said. "The freedom where you can give us power over you, let us decide for an hour. You could have an hour without having to fight and be strong. An hour to just fall apart in our arms. Don't pretend you don't want this." His fingers slid into the ties on the back of my dress, unknotting the laces until the fabric slid apart and revealed my spine.

  "Why can't I be in charge? Why does it have to be like this?" I whispered when Ryle's hand slid inside my dress, stroking over the sensitive, bare skin.

  "That's not how we work," he whispered. "This is our bond. We all give control to Char. You give control to all of us, and trust that we'll take care of you." Shep released my hands, removing his weight from my back so I could rise to my knees between them. When Shep's hands slid the fabric off my shoulders, it fell to my knees in a heap. I didn't fight it. Didn't struggle against what I knew to be true.

  Char picked up the letter that fell to the floor and giving me a pointed look, dropped it unopened on the table inside the room.

  I wanted to fight their control over me, wanted to argue that I could make my own decisions.

  But I was so damn tired of fighting all the time. Of struggling to rebel against a system that I would never win against. Not alone.

  So when Ryle's hand reached out, grasping my nipple between his fingers and pinching, I didn't swat him away. "Good girl," Hollis murmured. Shep's hands slid over the naked flesh of my ass, his groan sounding behind me.