Constant

by Lexi Ander

  Tori’s gaze zeroed in on him and the rage Sohm’lan saw there would have burned Atlainticia’s jungles to the ground. He glanced around the room again, searching for what had upset his amor and found nothing. What had happened? He was tempted to reach out to Tori with his mind, but Tori must have read his desire and shook his head, signing, ::There may be spies about. Will tell you later about the incident at the market::

  Sohm’lan paused his ascent from the pool. Tori teased him about his insistence that the Numina had spies watching them. Was that why Tori was mad? Had he caught a spy? He glanced at Kryp, then Matsya who listened to Sohm’lan’s mem’s soft voice, completely enraptured. They both seemed fine, though Kryp’s gaze kept going to the windows, his hands resting on the hilts of his knives as if he expected an enemy to crawl through the fourth-story window at any moment.

  Sohm’lan’s father stopped next to him, eyes narrowing as he too noticed the air of tense unease. “Lilika, let us retire for the rest of the day. Our son has worn me out.”

  He gave his father a playful nudge. “I highly doubt that. Do not listen to him, Mem. He beat me every time we sparred.”

  Lilika laughed, and Kryp took Matsya from her. He slipped by Sohm’lan into the pool, where he floated on his back, Matsya sprawling on his chest, yawning.

  Tori gave him and his father towels, and then robes as soon as they were dry. Sohm’lan said good evening to his parents and Vyx, who promised to see Kryp in the morning. It did not escape his notice that his parents left the jamming device or that it was still activated.

  Sohm’lan frowned at Kryp, who still seemed upset. He had not even removed his belt knives before entering the water. Sohym’lan made a note to get Kryp proper sea knives if he was going to be swimming with them. He followed Mestor to their receiving room when a knock came at the suite’s door. Servants laden with heavy trays filled with food for late-meal hurried in and set the low table. Four Basilisc guarded the door and watched the servants with keen eyes. With feigned casualness, he strolled to the windows overlooking the sea, unsurprised to see additional guards patrolling the waters. He bet if he went to all the ground-level waterway entrances, he would find barriers in place and guards as well. When Captain Hesperos entered the suite in casual clothes, he hurried back into the poolroom.

  Kryp climbed out of the water, Matsya softly snoring in his arms. He looked tired but alert as he carefully laid Matsya in Tori’s old birth bed that they had brought out of storage. The half shell was still in good repair for its age. Azaes and Shaneva’s birth beds had crumbled into pieces but Canry’s had been reinstated in the nursery after they had arrived from Valespia.

  As Kryp settled Matsya, Sohm’lan looked him over, searching for torn clothing or if he was moving oddly as if he had been bruised or was recovering from an injury, and still he saw nothing amiss.

  “I am fine, Sohm’lan.” Kryp took his arm and led him away from the birth bed. Normally, they would move the half shell into the sleeping chamber so their talking would not disturb her, but Kryp made no such move.

  They joined Tori and Captain Hesperos at the low table and consumed late-meal mostly in silence. Sohm’lan tried to keep from eating too fast, wanting to hear what had transpired while he had been gone. The illuminated globe of the jamming device ensured that any conversation would not be overheard by hidden electronic devices.

  After the meal, Tori and Captain Hesperos relayed what happened and what had been done with the prisoners, Sohm’lan listened and held his peace. All the while rage coursed through him like a tsunami. Ever since they had returned home, he had searched for a way to contact Poseidon, afraid there would be a confrontation between his people and the Numina, but for them to slink onto shore in order to snatch Matsya… He considered throwing them into a volcano. How dare they! He sided with Tori, worrying that more young had been taken. But it was not as if they could openly search for families with missing young, not until he could find a way to control the Numina after their existence was made known to all Mar’Sani. Canry had warned that to do such without Poseidon would lead to war.

  He had been excited when he discovered the purpose behind the gyre circle and a plan had formed while he learned to use his quickening with the trident. But he also understood that if his plan was to work, he would need much more time with his father to learn everything he could. Watching Kryp and Tori, and listening to what had not been said, Sohm’lan feared that he had run out of time.

  Kryp excused himself and swaddled Matsya, bidding everyone a good night before leaving for the nursery. Tori and Hesperos talked about interrogating the prisoners the following morning. As much as Sohm’lan wanted to get his hands on those who’d tried to steal Matsya, he had things that he needed to do. His top priority was finding a gyre circle on Atlainticia. His father claimed there had been one located not far offshore, but it had not been used in so long that it might be buried if no one had seen to the upkeep. Tori had already arranged for the palace to double the Basilisc guard and have them supported by the Monticore who were aware of the Numina threat, plus there were increased patrols along the shores. Tori had made the palace as secure as possible. Azaes had been briefed, and though Tori did not say anything about the Numina, Azaes had not asked why security was so tight. Sohm’lan had summers of watching the twins. What one knew, so did the other. Their connection never required much conversation between the two, especially when they seemed to share one mind most of the time. He knew that was not the case, and they did not have a telepathic connection, at least not yet. Azaes either trusted his brother beyond measure, or he literally knew everything that Mestor did.

  Once alone with his Tori, all his patience vanished and he shoved Tori against the wall, rubbing his cheek against his amor’s, scenting Tori for veiled injuries. He caught a hint of the bull Mestor grappled with and did not like that the skink’s pheromones lingered on Tori. He drew in that lingering odor and memorized it as Tori’s fingers fumbled with the tie to Sohm’lan’s robe.

  “Disrobe, now,” he commanded, the need to claim Tori, to spread his pheromones over his prince and eradicate the other’s scent pushed him. “Tori,” he pleaded, barely holding himself together. If Tori did not hurry, his uniform would be torn from his body into worthless strips.

  For the first time that evening, Tori smiled, soft and lazy as he broke away from Sohm’lan and backed toward the sleeping chamber. “What’s the matter, warlord? Are you going to look for state secrets? You want my body?”

  “I want to see your body,” Sohm’lan growled, then giving a hiss-click of warning, he sprang and Tori yelped, laughing as he barely dodged Sohm’lan’s grasping hands.

  Pieces of uniform fluttered to the floor as Tori kept his distance, taking off each article of clothing much too slowly. Sohm’lan waited, calculating the moment when Tori would have no reason to be far away. Tori had barely stepped out of his boots when Sohm’lan lifted and tossed him onto the sleeping platform, following quickly so Tori would not have time to slither away. His amor’s peals of happy laughter both soothed Sohm’lan’s apprehension and prodded the beast in him to spread Tori out and love him until he could not breathe.

  The sensation of their scales sliding over each other, the sound of their bodies entwining, vibrated through him, and Sohm’lan sang to his Tori, needing him to hear, to know how much he loved him.

  He finally gave voice to his growing worry. “My Tori, I do not want you out of my sight. What if that tailless skink had been ready for opposition, had a weapon, and hurt you?”

  Tori snorted derisively. “I am one of the top five fighters of our people. Only Zeus and perhaps you surpass my skills.”

  “Even the best can be taken down with a lucky shot,” he murmured into the pliant scales of Tori’s neck.

  The vision of Tori lying on polished paving stones bleeding out caused Sohm’lan to snarl and he sat up, straddling Tori’s hips. With great care, he rubbed his palms over Tori’s chest, stimulating the oil glands that would m
ake Tori’s scales gleam. Their combined pheromones filled the air and Sohm’lan relished the perfume, breathing it in deeply, hoping it would tame the beast within him that wanted to rampage. Not just rampage, he wanted to find the prisoners and tear into them with teeth and claws, the compulsion so feral and primitive that it surprised him. That surprise helped him to shackle the rage and bury it. There would be a time when he could take it out and use it, but this was not the time or place.

  Instead, he watched as Tori’s head dug into the mound of pillows he loved to sleep on, releasing a sigh of pleasure that stoked Sohm’lan’s desire. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to Tori’s, touching the mouth that so mesmerized him. He was unsurprised when Tori startled.

  “No, the glands,” Tori said, trying to pull away, but Sohm’lan held him fast.

  “Let me see.” He pressed his fingertip more insistently against Tori’s lips.

  Tori turned his head away. “No, I do not want to poison you accidentally.” The squirming only stimulated Sohm’lan and his sex unsheathed between them. Tori stopped moving and stared incredulously at him. “Seriously, Sohm’lan? This is arousing you?”

  “Everything about you is arousing. I have every confidence that you will not hurt me. Now show me, my amor,” he said holding his Tori’s gaze.

  Slowly, Tori opened his mouth, the fear shining in his sunrise-yellow eyes. The dark gums around the upper teeth gave way to lighter shades, the black turning a light gray around oblong pouches in his upper pallet.

  “You stimulate the pouches with your tongue?”

  Tori frowned. “I can but when I was wrestling with the skink, my mouth watered.”

  “And when you swallow? You are not affected?”

  His frown deepened. “Now that I think about it, no, but when I bit the strangers, the effect was immediate. I gave a sample to Vyx. He is looking into the properties. I do not know at what point my venom becomes lethal.”

  Sohm’lan hummed in response, contemplating what this could mean. While he thought, he continued to tease Tori’s scales, drawing out startled hisses and soft moans. He shelved the conversation for later, needing to see to his amor’s desires. Tori’s sex was hot, hard, and demanding attention. Taking him in hand, Sohm’lan pulled then slid his fingers down the shaft, pleased with the breathy quality of Tori’s haughty demands.

  “I love you, Tori, with all that I am,” he sang against his amor’s earhole. “The universe could come to an end and the stars burn out and I would continue to love you.”

  Tori’s eyes shimmered with an expression he only gave to Sohm’lan. He treasured that love and adoration, drinking it down like a bull dying of thirst.

  He did not fight when Tori rolled them and he straddled Sohm’lan’s hips, rising on his knees to grasp Sohm’lan’s erection. Sohm’lan’s body clenched with the intimate touch and he held Tori’s blazing, red-yellow gaze as their thick tails entwined.

  “Tori?” he gasped, struggling to keep from thrusting, from taking Tori like a feral bull.

  But his amor only smiled wide, so self-assured and cocky, knowing what Sohm’lan wanted and yet waiting. Could Sohm’lan be patient and allow him to lead? He gritted his teeth and gripped Tori’s thighs, a moan dragged out of him as his sex was taken into the fiery heat of Tori’s body.

  Tori threw his head back. “Stars above, that is better,” Tori said, moaning and swiveling his hips, putting pressure on Sohm’lan’s internal balls. The bursts of pleasure caused Sohm’lan to cry out, which only spurred Tori on. “I love the possessive glint in your eyes.” He quickened his movements, the sensitive underside of their tails scraping together.

  “Give it to me, Sohm,” Tori demanded, his gaze a swirling gold that would not release Sohm’lan. “Give me your seed. Fill me up.”

  Oh, how he loved this side of his amor. He gripped Tori’s hips on a rise, braced his feet and fucked up into him. The noises his amor made were exquisite torture, and he wanted to wring Tori dry of every erotic, dirty sound until Tori could no longer plead. But his body had other ideas when Tori squeezed around his shaft, come shooting out of Tori’s cock, painting Sohm’lan’s torso. His orgasm gripped him by the spine, and he pushed as deep as he could go into Tori’s body, his thrusts short and sharp, and he did as Tori demanded and filled him with his seed.

  Tori flopped down on Sohm’lan’s chest, breathing ragged. He wrapped his arms around his amor and rolled to the side as his sex withdrew. Tori reached for a hand towel on the side table and cleaned the spend away before he wrapped around Sohm’lan like an octopus.

  For a long while, they remained like that, not speaking, only sharing breath. To Sohm’lan, the moment felt like the calm before the storm. He finally recounted his day with his father and the budding plan he had to summon Poseidon.

  “Why do you think I have developed the poison now?” Tori murmured sleepily after several moments of silence.

  As far as he knew, the twins both had the sacks at birth. Sometimes the Vondorian young produced the venom and sometimes not, but it usually arrived in adolescence.

  “Father said that this quickening you and I have experienced is a sort of puberty. Perhaps the quickening is not the only ability that has matured,” he offered, feeling as if he had given the correct answer. He would confirm his suspicions when he spoke to his father on the morrow.

  “That begs the question of what else will happen,” Tori replied, snuggling closer.

  Sohm’lan agreed. He listened as Tori’s breathing slowed as he fell asleep. The roar of the waves smashing against the shore could still be heard through the closed doors. Usually, they would have the windows open to catch the cool night breeze off the water, but they remained shut and locked. The sound of the waves used to be soothing but now it only reminded him that the blue depths hid untold dangers. He no longer felt safe swimming the Waters of Poseidon.

  Restlessness hummed under his scales, urging him to move. Leaving Tori sleeping soundly, he checked the many windows and balcony doors. At each, he stood to the side and looked out onto the dark waters, searching for some sign of a stranger watching their rooms. He reminded himself that Monticore were assigned to patrol the coast along the palace, but unease still ate at him.

  Outside the suite, four Basilisc came to attention in the hallway. Sohm’lan bid the two who would have followed him to remain to watch over Tori. Then he prowled the royal wing of the palace as if he was stalking an enemy. With the attempted kidnapping of his foster daughter, the guards had been doubled, the patrols he crossed reflecting their new numbers. He walked through the atrium, smiling at the memory of Tori and Azaes hiding there with Zeus the day Zeus was to be introduced to the Waters of Poseidon.

  His heavy boots echoed in the grand family room. Sunken nesting bowls and small pools were perfect for large but private celebrations. Once, the room had hosted large gatherings of Vondorians numbering in the hundreds. But many of the family members either lived on the opposite side of the continent or offplanet, their interests or calling taking them far away. Now with Azaes’ upcoming coronation, the wedding, and Zeus’s kits coming out of Dargon’s pouch, extended family members had been arriving at the palace for the last week or so. Azaes and Mestor’s cousins, Kappa and Noelani, were helping the new arrivals settle in.

  Before leaving the room, he stared at the space, speculating. Perhaps he should suggest that Zeus bring the members of his household to the palace. The wing could easily house everyone who needed protection. As they were now, their resources were split between Zeus’s home and the palace. Or perhaps they would be truly safe in the heart of the jungle if the Numina were loath to go there. Unfortunately, Sohm’lan already knew he would not be able to convince Azaes or Tori to take Ariafella, Matsya, and Kryp to stay with Zeus for the time being. How long this silent standoff with the Numina would continue was anyone’s guess.

  He patrolled the varying floors, climbing the stairs to the level that housed the most vulnerable members of the Vondorian family.
The guards outside the nursery saluted him as he approached, sliding open the door for him. The room had changed little since Zeus had moved out at four summers. The large sandpit that took up a good portion of the room gleamed in the moonlight. Canry’s birth bed seemed untouched by time since it first cradled Canry, then Zeus, and now Matsya.

  Fine chains suspended the birth bed above the floor, and it swayed slightly. A few feet away, Kryp lay on a cot, the glint of steel in his grip, giving away the fact that he was keeping watch and not resting.

  “Sleep, my friend, I will take a watch,” he murmured.

  Kryp nodded, sheathed his blades, and closed his eyes. Matsya peeked over the edge, her eyes widening upon seeing him before she ducked back down and giggled, the birth bed swaying more with her movements.

  He crossed and peered inside. She gnawed on the blanket, her sharp teeth shredding the material into confetti. When he reached for her, she lunged into his hold, feet kicking, tail thrashing back and forth and softly clattering the chains.

  “You are too awake, little one,” he murmured as he took her to the enclosed sandpit and set her down.

  She crawled, though very wobbly, and found a place to void, then she hurried to the small pool, and slipped into the water. He hit the switch and the soft whirr of the sand being cleaned was barely noticeable over her splashing. Tori had told him what the strangers had said about her development. In the water, she was superior to others of her age group, already expertly catching small fish and crustaceans. She had survived on her mother’s milk and her minimal hunting skills before she had come to them. But on land, she was behind her peers but had been making great progress. Kryp kept detailed progress lists and devised ways to strengthen her muscles. Mar’Sani youngling grew their tails after birth, but she seemed to have been born with hers. In the water, it added to her speed and agility. But on land it knocked her down often. She had not quite grasped the idea that out of water tails were used for balance.