Embrace the Desire

by Spring Stevens

  “Well, one thing is for sure, next time I’m going to be a little more specific about the subject.” Wondering why he had called, she gently laid her book on the couch behind her. “Is there something wrong?”

  “It’s time.” His voice sent a cold chill down her spine. “In less than six months, your Burning will begin.”

  She swallowed hard. “I know.”

  “For your benefit, I have hand-picked a Destroyer for you.” He paused. “He’s strong and his powers are exceptional. I chose him because I believe he’ll successfully take you through the Burning.”

  “But . . .” Her voice faltered. Destroyers were demons. Cold, calculating demons who killed without mercy and without pause.

  “Chanta, when I found you, I swore to you that I would do everything in my power to make sure you would survive and others like you would have more than a fighting chance.”

  “I know. And you’ve helped me so much.” Memories of the day she had met Gyth swamped her. “I owe you my life.”

  “Nonsense. What Damon did to you was because of me; it was a shameless and cowardly thing. There is nothing I can do to make those things up to you, so allow me to assist you in this.”

  Tears came to her eyes, her heart breaking all over again. She didn’t dare mention that somehow, Damon, in human form had made her fall hard for him. “I can never pay you back enough for saving me.”

  “Let me help you again.” His voice was almost pleading. “Allow me to send him to you so you’ll have a better chance of surviving.”

  She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

  “And if I can’t go through with it?”

  “You must. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for me. Do it for the children at the academy. Just make sure you survive.”

  Survive? He made it sound like an invitation to a death match, but then that’s what it was. With a ragged breath, she answered, “Okay.”

  Chapter 4

  In the pit of the Algea’s lair, Payne succumbed to the betrayal of his mind to his tortured body. He screamed viciously as steel spikes fell upon his limbs pinning him to the marble slat beneath him. In the darkened recesses of his mind, he heard Gyth’s personal hounds of misery, the Algea, taunting him. Akhos and Lupe laughed as Ania begged them to let her have a turn.

  The spikes vanished and his wounds started to heal, his bones mending as his shattered mind slowly gathering tidbits of information about his surroundings. A need for retribution slithered through his soul as his numb body refused to move. It was times like these that he was grateful for his ability to heal so well. Being the son of Damon had its advantages.

  Ania, a black-haired slender wisp of a goddess, crossed the black marbled floor and stood in front of Payne’s mangled, but healing body. Her hair was swept up on top of her head with a golden tiara firmly nestled in its curls. She wore a short white silk chiton that came just above her knees, gold sandals were on her tiny feet laced up her legs just under her knees. Gold bracelets dangled on her arms and gold earrings dangled from her ears down to her shoulders.

  She was devastatingly beautiful in a dark, sultry, maddening kind of way. Maddening to the point that Payne would gladly gouge out her eyes or his own for that matter. He felt the urge to laugh, but his throat wasn’t working properly.

  She pouted. “Come on Payne. Hurry and heal so we can play.”

  He wanted to choke the babbling witch until her black eyes popped out of her head. Of the three spirits of pain, she was his least favorite. Being the most abhorrent of the menacing trio, she was the most worthy of his hatred. The goddess of sorrow, grief, and mental distress, she could, with a single, slight touch, take a man to his knees and turn his hand on himself, causing him to take his own life.

  His psychotic laughter filled the dark chamber. But he was no man, he was Payne! Let her do her worst.

  Before his body had healed enough to allow him movement, Ania reached down and ever so gently ran her fingertips over his brow. Her hysterically gloomy chuckle split through his hard exterior and despair clutched his entire being. Dangerous and volatile emotions tore through his mind like red-hot daggers, sending him back through time.

  Ania’s voice echoed softly, her words scorching his thoughts. “Deeper inside than ever before. Let me see your pain, your suffering, your heart’s torture.”

  No matter how hard he tried, the images and memories surfaced like oil from water. His earliest memory took over, drowned out the male that he was and took him down the venomous path to self-destruction.

  His mother, head witch of the coven he was raised in, lifted her hand, and with a howl of anger beat him until he passed out. When he woke, she was kneeling over him, his blood dripping from the dagger in her hand. Naked and afraid to move, to breathe, to cry, he watched as his mother carved into his skin over his heart the star that claimed him as property of the god Damon.

  But he wasn’t just property; he was Damon’s son.

  The beatings and the bloodlettings at the hands of his flesh and blood mother tumbled around in his unforgiving mind. Years of nothing but pain and fear cascaded over him, fueled his desire to die. But he wasn’t even allowed that option. He was a god’s son and in his mother’s unmerciful care.

  Then Bastilla had appeared and his heart rejoiced, finding something other than fear. She was his everything, but her treachery and fearful love of Damon sliced through his soul. With one look, she had ripped out his heart and served it to him on a gold platter. Her love was pledged to his father, bound to him in ways that even Payne could not describe. She had refused him and betrayed him to his mother and father.

  Twisting violently as Ania’s will compelled him deeper still into himself, images of his father flashed through his mind. The evil acts and sinister deeds he had been obliged to observe while chained at his father’s feet drove his soul to the brink of insanity. Innocent people tortured, maimed, and flayed alive for Damon’s viewing pleasure, all the while he was compelled to watch, never blinking, never trying to help.

  And then there were the deviant sexual acts that plagued him. Countless times he had witnessed orgies and intense bondage ceremonies, all in the name of his father. So many naked twisting bodies, tied up, flayed, and beaten that their faces and names blurred into a mass of anger in his brain. Before the age of fifteen, he had witnessed the most extreme sexual acts known to man, and some only known to the gods.

  It was his death and rebirth as a Destroyer that magnified his lust for revenge. For Bastilla’s betrayal, nightmares that knew no end, and his lost childhood, he would kill Damon, and Gyth had offered him a means to that end. For the unnecessary beatings, he would kill his mother. But Gyth had not held up his end of the bargain. Years and years of being Gyth’s lapdog, not fulfilling his need for revenge, and all the betrayals he had endured, forced his thoughts and emotions together ripping the despair and gut-wrenching sorrow from his chest.

  But he would not be broken!

  He welcomed the sorrow, the pain, the humiliation, and the truth of who and what he was. Each action he had taken, every second of torment he had endured fed his inner beast, fired the desire and lust for Damon’s blood. To kill the one true evil in the world, that was his one and only purpose.

  Tears burned his eyes, yet he refused to cry. So much pain cascaded through him, threatened his sanity, and manifested into rage as he defied his emotions. With all that was Payne, he jerked on the chains and sat up.

  When he spoke through blood, aching, and unshed tears, his roar was deafening. “Pain is and always has been my ally!”

  • • •

  Ania stood as still as stone, Akhos, with his blood red hair tied at the nape of his neck, bowed his head, and Lupe caught his breath. Never had they heard such a splendid sound. Not once in all their existence had they witnessed such infinite and all-consuming strength.

  The Algea nodded in unison, silently agreeing that their torments were useless. Akhos stood from his seat, his long white chiton s
plattered red with Payne’s blood, and held out his hand to Ania as Lupe spoke in his gravel biting tone.

  “Someone has committed a great injustice and it must be righted.” Lupe floated to Payne’s side. “Gyth has no idea of the strength he has barely contained in this one’s soul.”

  Ania’s black tears ran down her cheeks as Lupe grabbed Payne by the throat and held him up, his body dangling in his grasp. “We must consult Isten. Pain that runs as deep as this breeds revenge and will break the chains of command. If indeed he succeeds in his desire to kill Damon, the hierarchy of this world will fall.”

  Payne’s despair brought a soft moan to Ania lips as Akhos nodded.

  “He won’t be pleased with us for complying to Gyth’s wishes where this one is concerned.” Ania groaned again as Payne’s memories leapt like fire through her heart. “His destiny has been unwritten.”

  Running his other hand through his dark blue hair, Lupe nodded. “The destruction of this universe hangs on a teetering edge!”

  Ania took Lupe’s hand. “But do we dare consult Isten?”

  “We must.” Lupe jerked away from Ania, throwing Payne across the marble chamber. “Isten will be angered that we have not come sooner.”

  Akhos disagreed. “No, he will understand. We were born to serve and cohere to whatever god rules this universe. Before he went into dormancy, Isten declared us free from his service and to serve the uprising gods. We have only done as we were born to do.”

  Ania nodded hesitantly. Her brothers did not know the things she did, and she was wary to consult them. “And what of Gyth?”

  Lupe snorted. “He must follow Isten’s command. He would not be sitting on the throne if Isten had not made it so. Remember, we chose to follow him and to serve him.” He smiled. “And now, we choose not to.”

  Akhos chuckled. “Free will, sister mine. We, like all things before the creation of this universe, truly do have free will and none can dictate our lives or our destinies.”

  “Why would someone erase Payne’s destiny?” Ania asked, even though she knew the why of it full well. “Of all the beings in this universe, why him?”

  Akhos held his hand up, silencing her questions. “Regardless of why or who, we must consult Isten. If this universe is on a one way path to destruction, we must warn him that it draws near.”

  Ania nodded. Akhos was right in this. The course had to be taken and she knew that. She vaguely thought of her friends on earth and knew she could not stand by and let the future fall as it was going. She would intervene.

  “Yes, of course, brother mine. Under no circumstance can we allow destruction.”

  Lupe took Ania’s hands in his large ones. “And if destruction is inevitable, what of all the innocent lives in this realm? And exactly where would you feed your need for sorrow? Where would any of us feed?”

  Ania thought of Jaiden and his precious books. “With Jaiden gone, perhaps it’s best for us to deliver Payne to Isten and let him decide the next course of action.” Of course, she completely disagreed with that, but she didn’t know exactly where her brothers stood on the matter. “Perhaps, Isten, being the oldest and grandest of all gods, would better know how to handle the situation.”

  With deep breaths and with slight agreeing smiles, Akhos and Lupe nodded and looked at Payne. His body, once bloody, broken and unidentifiable, now twisted, mended, and rose above the marble floor.

  “We’ll take him to Isten’s sanctum and once more pledge ourselves to our king.”

  Chapter 5

  The Isle of the Blessed and the Condemned grew dark as Isten took a deep breath and awoke from his slumber. His thoughts troubled him as he turned his senses outward, into the vast universe he and the other seven gods had created so very long ago.

  His nose flared as he felt the Book of Light open. The words rumbled inside of him, the past crashing into the here and now. The universe groaned, crackled, and roared in defiance. Isten’s eyes glowed softly as he wondered what had caused such unrest.

  He searched deeper. All he had created, all he had envisioned was out of balance. Somewhere, somehow things had gone utterly awry. He considered all the possibilities and yet none of them made sense.

  He had taken things into his own hands with the aide of two trusted allies, Terror Sky and Charon. A year ago he had rewritten one of his descendant’s DNA, Varick Ta Farg. And in doing so, had set things back on track, but yet he still felt the onslaught of destruction, a twisting rip in time and space. There was simply no answer coming to him for this traitorous act and he could not find the culprit behind it.

  He had been pulled out of dormancy after thousands of years of sleep. And what he had found was beyond reason. He was trapped by an unseen force on the isle, and yet, he still had his power. His ability to leave, however, evaded him. He was the most powerful being in this universe—or at least he had been.

  His spine tingled as the words from the Book of Light crashed around his presence. A god-born female was reading the words from the book, a book that explained the need for angels. Anger stirred his contemplation as he recalled the birth of the books and the god-child he had used to create them: Jaiden. The name should have been stricken from history upon his demise, but yet his name and books had survived . . . somehow.

  The Book of Destruction, the Book of Creation, and the twelve books of knowledge were precautionary measures, and most had been lost since he had been in dormancy. Charon was now on a mission to retrieve all of those books. Someone was using them to change destiny, change the future.

  The question was who and why?

  For the thousandth time, he raised his hand and tried to leave the isle, but still he could not. Fury marred his white brow. What god, what being could have banished him from the universe he had created? And what of the other gods of his pantheon? Why did they not heed his call?

  Raising his eyes to the sky, a purple flash announced Terror Sky’s arrival. The Elemental god, in dragon form, landed at Isten’s side. Seconds passed as the red dragon’s form twisted and melted. Isten waited as Terror Sky shook off the last effects of the transformation into human form.

  “What news do you bring me?” Isten’s voice boomed, echoing down the rust colored valleys and canyons. “What is this unrest I feel in the universe?”

  “A Destroyer, one called Payne.” Terror Sky shook his head. “The Algea are here and they have him. They have advised his future has been unwritten.”

  “What? Unwritten?” Isten couldn’t believe his ears. “The only one allowed to interfere with those books was Jaiden, and he is dead.”

  “The Algea cannot explain it and neither can Charon. But they do know that Gyth doesn’t have the books, but some of them are in the Heavens.”

  Isten turned and stared hard at the elemental god. “Are you sure of this?”

  “Yes.” Terror Sky ran his hand through his black hair. “Charon and I went to see Gyth. I could feel the books’ presence, but could not locate them.”

  “There are nine layers in the Heavens. Could you at least tell what layer they were on?”

  Terror Sky shook his head. “There is more. Gyth has enlisted Varick’s aid with Chanta Timbers. She is entering the Burning.”

  Isten stood as stone, felt his gray eyes blazing. “It cannot be. Her birth is too soon. Has someone altered her destiny as well?”

  “I don’t fathom to understand how this universe or fate works. She was born as you intended, but from there, her life has not been as it should have been.” Terror Sky looked up and watched as the sky grew darker, casting long shadows across the desert of the isle. “From what I can gather, her destiny has been integrated with the Angels and with the Destroyers.”

  “And Damon? If her destiny has been changed, then his, too, must have been.”

  Terror sky remained silent, his brows pulled together in thought.

  “We must find the one behind these changes. And do our best to correct the balance.” Isten curled his hands into fists. He was Is
ten, the most grand of the eight original gods of creation and he was not going to stand by and let his universe be destroyed. “And find a way to get me out of this prison!”

  Terror Sky nodded, his body twisting and rising into the air as he transformed back into dragon. Isten waited patiently for Terror Sky to leave, then he turned his attention to the floating castle barely within sight.

  Thunder rolled as Isten roared in anger. Red horns twisted out of his head as his body lifted and twisted in the air. He was Isten, father of this universe, king of his pantheon, and his very creation was falling apart at the seams!

  Lightning streaked across the sky as his fury rose. Someone would pay for the treachery and the meddling! With a violent burst of energy, his body transformed into dragon as fire spewed from his mouth. His red and black scales glittering under the lightning that danced in the sky.

  His great eyes latched onto the black castle that sat nestled in storm clouds above a barren mountainside. Payne was inside with the Algea. The Destroyer was in for an awakening and Isten wanted answers.

  Answers that he would have one way or the other!

  • • •

  Chanta Timbers was oblivious to the male that sat in the back of the teacher’s lounge. He was cloaked and invisible. He watched her carefully, took in her facial features, her actions, and her small structure. She was indeed a daughter of Gyth. He suddenly pitied her. Then laughed and scowled at himself; after all, he was a son of Gyth.

  Hours passed before Varick uncloaked himself and then waited for her to see him. When she did, he held his breath as he looked into her eyes. His stomach flipped, knowing that he would have to introduce her to a world of terror and sacrifice, of pain and treachery.

  “Can I help you?” Her voice was soft, compelling, and warm.

  “It isn’t what you can help me with. It’s what I can help you with.” He tried to smile, but failed to manifest it on his face.