Above the Storm

by JMD Reid

  “No, Vel,” she groaned. “Please, don’t—”

  He dropped before his moon nymph. He’d show her how he felt. He grabbed her face. Twenty-five days left. With training increasing, he couldn’t let another seven days go by. He had to show her the depths of his feelings.

  His hands seized her cheeks, feeling her warmth, her smooth, delicate cheekbones.

  “Vel!” she gasped, eyes wide in shock right before his lips met hers.

  He kissed her hard, pouring all his passion into it. She stiffened for a moment, his lips moving against hers. He closed his eyes as she pushed her hands against his shoulders, feeble resistance. She moaned as he pressed her back against the armory wall, pinning her. Her fingers curled into his linen shirt. The heat of her body bled through their clothing.

  He ached, hands moving up her linen shirt towards territory he’d only dreamed of exploring, such bountiful hills.

  Her hands pushed hard. She wrenched her head away. “What are you doing, Vel?”

  “Loving you! My moon nymph, it’s been so long. I’ve missed you so much. Your stories. Your face.”

  He leaned in to kiss her again. She turned away, struggling. His lips found her jawline, nibbling.

  “Vel, I am married to your friend!” She pushed harder at his shoulders, her arms stronger than other girls who’d played at resisting to feign chastity, a little struggle to prove they weren’t slatterns before their surrender.

  “Ary doesn’t have to know.” Vel squeezed her breasts, feeling her body’s reaction, thumbing over hard peaks. He pressed into her neck, breathing in the scent of her. “Riasruo Above, I can’t live without you any longer. You’re my heart, Lena.”

  She let out a hissing groan, pushing him back harder. “I’m not your heart! I’m Ary’s!”

  The hated name stiffened his body. Then he stumbled back as she heaved harder. Her stony face glared. “Veldon Tloan, you try that one more time, and I’ll crush your berries with my boot.”

  “Lena?” he panted, confused.

  “I came here to tell you I won’t be going on walks with you any longer.”

  Her words hurt worse than crushed berries.

  “Why?” He groaned, his words strained. “What’s wrong? Is it him?”

  “Yes.” She gave him a look. “I love him. And people are starting to talk. They think we’re lovers.”

  “Aren’t we? It’s why you come out here. Why you hold my hand and watch the stars with me.”

  “I’m sorry, Vel.” Her eyes grew misty. “I truly am. It was wrong of me to do this. I liked your attention. Truly. But . . .”

  Fear squeezed his heart. “Don’t say it.” He seized her hands. “Don’t say it, Lena.” He couldn’t her hear say those words. “You love me. I know you do.”

  “I love Ary.” She gave him such a sad smile. Her hands squeezed his. “I care for you, I do, but he’s my husband. I can’t hurt him by coming out here. I won’t risk our marriage.”

  “Don’t deny the flames!” Vel couldn’t let her get away. He had to fight for her. Right now. He couldn’t be afraid any longer.

  “But I should only feel this way for my husband.”

  Hope beat hard in his chest. “You do love me.”

  “I didn’t say that. This isn’t love. It’s a hot flame, but not something that burns long.”

  Vel didn’t follow her words. He didn’t care. Her coals were smoldering. He had to stoke them. If he kissed her, touched her, she’d surrender. They always surrendered. She owed him. All these nights listening to her blather, aching for her and not getting the release she promised.

  Knowing she gave Ary what she denied him!

  “Vel!” she gasped as he pressed her back against the armory. She thrust her knee up. It took him in the stomach. She pushed off from the wall, heaving her weight against his. He groaned, stumbling back, face flushed.

  “I love you, Chaylene,” Vel groaned. “And I know you love me, too!”

  “I love—”

  “Chaylene!” Ary’s voice rang out. The brute stood at the corner of the armory, hands balling into fists.

  The pain in his stomach fueled a storm in Vel’s heart. Here stood the reason Chaylene wasn’t his. I was so storming close. Theisseg damn him! Why didn’t that Cyclone snuff out his life? Why did the Storm Goddess spare his cursed existence?

  Vel swung his fist.

  ~ * * ~

  “Vel!” Chaylene gasped in shock as he lunged forward and threw a punch.

  Ary had no time to understand what he’d discovered behind the armory: Chaylene leaning against the armory, her blouse in disarray, panting or Vel lunging at her, about to seize her and kiss her. Stunned pain gripped Ary. He didn’t dodge the attack. He couldn’t.

  Vel’s punch crashed into his jaw.

  Ary’s head snapped to the right. His brain rattled in his skull. A wave of darkness shot over him. Vel cursed, shaking his hand and grunting from the pain. Ary stumbled back a step.

  “What is going on?” Ary snarled, the blow shattering his shock.

  “It’s not what you think,” Chaylene gasped. “Ary, please, it’s not. I didn’t want him to. I came out to talk to him. That’s it.”

  “Talk?” Ary drew in a deep breath, glaring at Vel.

  Loathing twisted his handsome features ugly, his face cold as a shark. He balled his fists and threw another punch. Ary flowed like water over a submerged stone, his training guiding his hands. He seized Vel’s wrist, twisted, and threw him into the fence. He crashed into wooden slats and bounced off with a groan.

  “What is going on?” For over a month, Ary had kept control of his anger, channeling it into constructive avenues. It drove him to help his fellow marines, to make them all better, to show up the Sergeant-Major.

  But that Agerzak bastard wasn’t here. Vel was. And he’d . . .

  “Did you . . .?” Ary’s tongue knotted. He couldn’t say the words.

  “No, Ary,” she said, shaking her head. Her shoulders trembled as tears fell down her cheeks. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”

  “She would,” Vel growled and charged again, attacking with the ferocity of a cornered shark lashing out at the Human who’d stumbled upon it lurking in a barn. “She burns to be mine! She loves me!”

  “Vel!” Chaylene snarled. “I don’t love you!”

  Ary caught Vel’s punch in his hand, crushing his fist. Pain winced across Vel’s face. Ary twisted, Vel’s wrist turning in ways against the Goddesses’ design. He gasped, eyes widening, knees buckling. The charge crackled across Ary’s body, building in his hand.

  “What is going on?” he demanded a third time, fighting to control his anger.

  “Her freedom! From you. From your anger. From your threats. From your control.”

  “What?” Chaylene gasped. “What are you talking about, Vel?”

  “I won’t let you hurt her!” Vel threw a punch with his left arm. Ary raised an elbow, blocking the clumsy blow with ease.

  He twisted Vel’s wrist.

  “Theisseg’s Storm!” Sweat broke out across Vel’s forehead, gleaming purple in blended moonlight.

  “You’d think I’d hurt her?” Ary snarled. He stared at the man before him, a stranger he’d known his entire life. “You think I’m capable of that?”

  “Yes!”

  Ary stared into pain-filled eyes. He saw the truth in them, the hatred. My friend despises me. Ary looked up at his wife. She stood there, clutching herself. Does she believe I could hurt her, too? Did she come to Vel for protection from me?

  Pain worse than Vel’s punch struck Ary’s heart.

  “You’d never hurt me, Ary,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

  “Don’t lie, Lena,” Vel groaned. Wind swirled around him, striking Ary, his hair ruffling beneath the impotence of Vel’s Blessing. “This is your chance. I’ll take his beatings. Then we have him. You can prove he’s dangerous. Get away from him. I love you.”

  “I don�
�t love you!” Chaylene screeched. “I don’t want to get away from my husband.”

  Ary looked at his wife, pleading with his eyes. He needed to understand.

  She flinched, staring at her feet. More tears fell down her cheeks. Flashes of Vel and Chaylene coming together, moaning in passion, ran through Ary’s mind. The charge crackled across his skin, building in his right hand.

  A single zap . . .

  “Please,” Ary croaked. “Lena.”

  Her eyes lifted, swollen. “I didn’t, Ary. We just talked. I thought he was my friend. I knew he loved me, but . . .” She swallowed. “He tried to kiss me. I was fending him off. I swear.”

  “She wanted it,” Vel panted, voice tight. “Every time, Ary. Your wife came to me because she wanted my love.”

  Chaylene flinched.

  “If you hadn’t come, she would have surrendered. They always do for me.” An insolent, mocking grin spread across Vel’s putrid face. “You know that.”

  “I should beat your face to bloody ruin! Tell me why I shouldn’t!”

  “Because I’m a coward no longer! I’m not scared to love her!”

  “Ary!” Chaylene grabbed his arm. “I don’t love him. I love you. Please, don’t kill him.”

  “Because he’s your lover?” demanded Ary.

  She flinched. “No! Because you’ll get into trouble. Release your charge. Don’t do this. I don’t want to lose you.”

  He believed her.

  He stared back at Vel and the naked loathing. Was their entire friendship a lie? Had Vel only pretended? Now Ary understood why Vel had avoided him. Ever since he’d married Chaylene, his friend, his former friend, had stayed scarce.

  Flashes of laughing boys, of romping through fields and forests, fishing, chasing ducks, playing games. So much joy. So many endless afternoons of innocence. Soiled. Ruined. Ary threw Vel away. He spilled onto the ground, cradling his right wrist.

  “Go!” Ary dissipated his charge. He had so many words to say, but they wouldn’t escape his chest, tangled up inside of him. I trusted you.

  His eyes flicked to Chaylene. The hope he felt vanished. How could he share his burden now? She lied about these walks. What else did she lie about? Guilt swam in her eyes. She did something with Vel.

  “She wants to be mine!” Vel scrambled to his feet. “That’s why she’s out here. She loves me more than you!”

  “Vel!” Chaylene hissed, glaring at him. “Stop being a piece of dung. You’re just making it worse.”

  Vel straightened his shirt. He gave Ary a mocking nod then strutted away before vanishing into the gloom. Part of Ary wanted to find Vel and hurt him. Tears stung his eyes. He blinked them away.

  “Ary,” Chaylene said, words soft. She touched his arm. “I’m sorry.”

  He rounded on her and seized her shoulders. “I need to know. Were you kissing him?”

  “He tried to kiss me.” She swallowed. “I pushed him away.”

  He wanted to believe that. “Then why do you come out here at night to see him? If not to . . .?” He couldn’t finish the sentence. His stomach rebelled. Riasruo, please, tell me she didn’t.

  “I just needed someone to talk to.”

  “About what?”

  She squirmed. “Just . . . things.”

  “And you can’t talk to me? Or Zori?”

  She looked away.

  “If you weren’t out here to . . . What reason could you have to hide it from me? It’s Vel. I never would have . . .” Bile crept up his throat. I never would have suspected. Not my friend. “You didn’t want me coming along. That’s why you never mentioned it.”

  She squirmed more.

  “He’s your lover. That’s it. You’re out here to—”

  She slapped his cheek. Hard. “Enough! How dare you accuse me of that! I’m your wife!”

  “Ahneil told me all about what’s going on. Seeing your lover behind my back, putting horns on my head. I’ve heard the rumors of you and Vel.”

  “That sow Xoshia!” She cupped his cheeks. “I bandaged Vel’s wound when he got hurt in the fight. That’s the only time I was alone with him on the Xorlar.”

  “And all these nights on your walks?”

  “We only ever talked. I promise you, Ary.” Her jaw trembled. “You know me. You know I’m not a . . . a . . . That! I just needed to talk with someone. Besides you, he’s my oldest friend.”

  “Why not talk to me?” he demanded.

  “Because . . .”

  A chill rippled across his skin. “It was about me.”

  She nodded. “I knew it was wrong to see him without telling you because he loves me. I just . . . I made a mistake. But I swear I never did more than talk. This was going to be the last time. I made that decision.”

  He wanted to believe her. Her eyes pleaded with him.

  “I love you, Ary. I chose you.” She embraced him.

  He stiffened.

  Did he believe her? I thought Vel was my friend . . .

  “I promise I won’t see him again.” She pressed her wet face into his neck. “I was telling him that when you barged in. It’s why he tried to kiss me. He . . .” She swallowed. “I guess I led him on. He thought I cared for him when I didn’t. That was wrong of me, too. I . . . I just . . . liked how he made me feel when we talked. And . . . you won’t talk to me about your dreams . . .”

  He couldn’t stop himself from putting his arms around her as she cried. No matter how much his heart ached right now, he loved her. He didn’t want to lose her. But . . . She was with her lover tonight.

  The words wouldn’t leave his mind.

  “You believe me, right? Ary?” Her voice quivered, so small, suffocating. She looked up, stars falling liquid down her cheeks. He witnessed the emotions, the fear, the pain, the pleading need for acceptance, forgiveness.

  He yearned to give it to her, to believe her. But Ahneil’s words had planted deep roots into his mind, worming through his thoughts.

  How could this face, these eyes, stare up at him with such need for his love if she had betrayed their marriage? The urge to believe her beat so strong in his heart, a need whipping at him, driving him towards forgiveness. Because even though his heart bled from slashing wounds, it still beat for her. He pulled her tight, unable to let her go even if she had cuckolded him. Nausea roiled his stomach. Desperation for her words to be true tightened his arms.

  “Nothing happened,” she sobbed over and over. “I’m sorry. Nothing happened.”

  “Nothing happened,” he repeated, words dead.

  As she pressed her face into his chest, something crinkled. She sniffed, pulling away and staring at his heart, crumpled parchment sticking out of his breast pocket. She blinked her teary eyes, asked, “What’s this?”

  He tensed, remembering what sent him out into the night, into this horrid moment.

  “The letter from my ma.” His ma’s and Ahneil’s words tumbled Ary’s emotions together. The guilt and anger at his ma stormed inside him, looking for a skyland to ravage. Like the one in his arms. “I don’t know what to do, Lena.” The look in her eye, a yearning to support him and share his burden, pried the words from his soul. “She . . . Should I forgive her? She says she’s changed. That she wants to be my ma. Should I believe her?”

  Should I believe you?

  “You should, Ary,” she whispered.

  He broke away from her, leaned against the armory, and sank to the wet grass. She swallowed and sat next to him, a gap between them. She stared at him, her lips trembling. She scooted closer with a hesitant shuffle.

  He stared into his wife’s eyes. “Why should I forgive her?”

  “Because . . . she made a mistake. But deep down, you love her. Right?”

  His brows furrowed. “I guess so. That’s why her words always hurt. And . . . I want to forgive her. I want to believe her.” I want to believe you.

  “Then I think you made your decision, Ary.” Another shuffle pressed her against him. He put his arm around her without th
ought. She let out a shuddering sob and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Ary. I do love you.”

  “I know,” he said, staring up at the sky. Chaylene always found it helpful. He couldn’t see why. They were just twinkling specks. I love Lena. I love Ma. “I’ll forgive her.”

  “And me?” Her voice was a tense whisper.

  “Yeah,” he sighed. He wished he didn’t love her. His heart wouldn’t bleed right now.

  Were you his lover on the Xorlar? Was Xoshia right? He couldn’t hoe those weedy thoughts from his mind.

  ~ * * ~

  Wriavia watched the disastrous meeting from the air. His plan to use Vel was almost certainly dead. He followed Vel’s hurried progress through the camp as he drifted through the sky. But Vel didn’t head to his barracks. He snuck out of the camp itself.

  It was common for recruits to sneak out of camp and steal down to Shon to gamble and carouse in one of the taverns that doubled as brothels. Wriavia had a hunch and flew quickly to Shon, landing in a dark alley by the Perfumed Leaf. He shut off his shader, his feathers appearing solid, and strode to the Friendly Maid. He found an empty table, ordered a pint, and waited for Vel to arrive.

  The Vionese male burst in soon after, his brown cheeks flushed and his blond hair askew. Wriavia pushed out a chair out with his clawed foot and chirped, “What is the matter, my friend?”

  “Nothing,” muttered Vel, throwing himself into the chair. He grabbed a passing friendly maid with his left hand, hissing, “Get me a shot of whiskey.”

  Wriavia leaned forward and clucked one word: “Ary?”

  “That sow-kissing bastard! He’s stealing her away!” Vel’s fist slammed on the table, almost knocking over Wriavia’s beer mug. “I had her. She should be mine!”

  “So what happened?” Wriavia asked, playing his role.

  “I was kissing her, loving her, but she pushed me away.” Pain cracked his voice. “She wanted to stop our talks. Afraid her brute of a husband would catch us. Trying to protect me. She’s so caring like that.”

  Wriavia clucked his beak at the young man’s delusions over Chaylene’s actions.