Dahlia: A Novel of Dark Desire

by Viola Calvary

  Dahlia tried to get her knees into his stomach to push him off but he dropped his body lower onto her and ran his teeth down her neck. The feeling was intoxicating on top of the natural high she was still shaking from. She involuntarily let out a moan as her chest flushed and her hips pressed into him, adrenaline mixing with the primal lust that flooded through her body.

  He released one hand to remove the buckle holding her weapons and push up her shirt. Her breasts exposed, he bit down into the soft flesh. The sharp pin pricks from his teeth shot down her body and she felt herself growing wet. She buried her hand in his hair and pulled his mouth back up to hers so she could taste him, drown herself in his scent. She felt him growing harder, pushed against her.

  He broke the kiss to pull her shirt the rest of the way off then nipped at her skin. Moving down from her neck to her hips he savoured the taste while she arched into him and braced both hands on his shoulders to push him lower. Ignoring her hands, he played his tongue under the waist of her pants, teasing her, pushing her desire for him even harder. She rolled her hips in frustration and tried in vain to push him down on her.

  He tugged her pants down and ran his tongue down between her thighs where he lapped at her clit, the strokes of his tongue sending shivers down her spine.

  “More, Kenny,” she growled, squirming in anticipation.

  He bit down hard on the outside of her thigh, drawing blood, before pulling off his own tattered pants and pushing into her. The feel of his cock sent spikes of pleasure radiating down through her that intensified as he rocked his hips, sliding in and out. She cried out, enraptured as she made love to the man whose soul was entwined with a monster.

  He pulled one of her legs up and over his hip as he thrust deep into her, making her moan with pleasure. She kicked her foot into his low back and rocked her hips back against him, feeling him press and rub against her g-spot. She melted into him, savouring the sensation of his body moving in hers.

  He buried a hand in her hair and ran his tongue over the blood still on her cheek then forced her mouth up to his. She parted her lips for him and he slid his tongue into her mouth so she shared the taste as he buried himself into her, dominating and possessing. She let him take what he wanted, desperate to lose herself again in their raw lust.

  He slid his hand down to her lower back and lifted her hips up so her back was arched and her head thrown back. Every thrust strained against her, pressing harder into her. She threw her arms over her head to lever herself against him and push her hips against his thrusts so he reached every inch of her. She ached for more of him, needing to feed the hunger building in her.

  He pulled out and she growled, annoyed he’d stopped. He pushed her to her hands and knees and smacked her across her ass before thrusting back into her. She cried out as he pushed into her hard enough to throw her off balance. He grabbed her hips and held her against him so he could fuck her harder. Her focus narrowed to the delicious sensations rolling through her body as he rode her mercilessly, finally satiating her. She called out, begging for more. The rougher he was the more she felt that hunger satisfied.

  She bit her lip as everything drained from her mind, leaving nothing but animalistic need and the almost unbearable pleasure that threatened to take her over the edge. As if he sensed how close she was he ran a hand from her hip down between her legs and stroked her clit. The sensation of his fingers against her sent her tumbling over into her release. The demands of her body finally met, she threw her head back and he bit into her collar as a wave of intense relief rushed through her. Her head spun and she saw stars as she came hard. Kenny ran his hand up her stomach and cupped her breast as he let go and came into her, nuzzling her neck as they drifted back down.

  He pulled out of her again and located what was left of his pants. She was surprised they’d survived the night at all. At least that explained why he always wore them loose. Then he helped her to her feet and located her clothes as well as her axes while she dressed. Her clothes were still holding together but were easily as stained and dirty as his. She couldn’t imagine the sight they’d be if anyone saw them.

  Kenny led her around the perimeter of the barracks until they reached a section roughly in front of his barrack. He let out a whistle, two short notes, and a moment later a rope spooled out of the darkness.

  He grabbed the end, turned to her, and bowed while holding it out. “Ladies first.”

  Dahlia was not thrilled at the prospect of facing whoever was at the other end but she grabbed on and hoisted herself up. As she reached the top two sets of arms hauled her over. Two of Kenny’s men grinned at her for a moment until recognition hit them and they bowed their heads.

  “Captain DeMorra,” one of them greeted her. “Welcome back. I trust you were successful.”

  Kenny’s enormous form shot up onto the wall as he vaulted over the ledge.

  “Yes,” he replied for her. “Entirely.”

  His appearance didn’t seem the phase them. Apparently they were more used to him coming back bloody and partially clothed than coming back with someone. Maybe he liked to sneak out to wrestle bears when there weren’t enemy troops available she thought.

  “Looks like we’ll see some action tomorrow,” Kenny continued.

  “Excellent,” one of the men replied, “we’ll be looking forward to it.”

  Kenny grinned, nodded, and began walking towards the stairs down to the ground. Dahlia swept along beside him, back into the cover of the trees. When they approached the barracks Kenny caught her up and pressed his mouth hard against hers. Dahlia closed her eyes and savoured the feel of his body against hers and the scents of the night around them. Then he released her and turn towards his barracks.

  She watched him for a moment, the silent hunter prowling back through his domain. She shivered lightly then broke her train of thought and slipped back to her own barrack. She returned to her room with silent steps, bolted the door, and fell into bed still in her torn and blood soaked clothes. Sleep took her almost instantly and filled her head with dreams of wings and a dark pool where a blood soaked woman gently splashed her feet.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  She woke late, the morning sun already shone bright through her window. As she moved she felt dried blood cracking on her skin and her hair hung tangled in her face.

  ‘You are fucking insane,’ she’d yelled at him.

  Well what did that make her? Bathed in soft morning light the experience of the night before--filled with blood, sex, and monsters--seemed like a dark dream. But vivid, as if she’d found someone else’s memory in her head. She pulled herself out of bed and stripped off the tunic and pants and ran water into her bath. She stepped in and breathed in the steam as she washed away the evidence of the night before. The water around her tinged reddish brown as she stared into it and let the emotions wash through her.

  She’d felt sure of who she was before this. She’d felt balanced, grounded, aligned. But had she really been? The appearance of the woman at the dark pool and her resentment spoke otherwise. Had she let the fear she felt from others create fear in herself?

  Yes, she had. She let out a breath. If she hadn’t been connected to that legend of the Puppet Master then the elation she felt in battle would not be remarkable. Kenny’s behavior was often viewed as brutal, but not strange. Though if, like her, his abilities were fully known that would change. People would suddenly worry that he’d lose control and prey indiscriminately, become the dark stuff of nightmares and legends.

  She held her breath and sank beneath the water. She ran her fingers through her hair, removing the tangles, then broke the surface and let the warm water run down her back.

  Then again the power and brutality she had found in herself wasn’t all that comforting, everyone else’s possible reactions aside. When she was with Kenny she felt like she was dancing on the knife’s edge of sanity, occasionally dipping her toe into the other side.

  She stepped back out and dried her hair before flip
ping her head upside down and braiding it up the back of her head and knotting it on top. The braid helped to keep it in place and secure. She’d had her hair pulled in a fight before and didn’t feel like repeating the experience.

  She stripped her bed and threw clean bedding on it. She didn’t want to come back to sheets smeared with dirt and worse after what she suspected would be a long day.

  She put on a simple outfit of black tunic and leggings, clothes that wouldn’t catch or restrict movement, before throwing on her captain’s jacket and soft boots. On her hips hung her sheath with her axes. She took a deep breath and then stepped out to prepare for what was coming.

  She found her barrack members waiting for her in the common area. They’d turned out early, even Arreal. They all turned to see her fully prepared for a fight and their faces turned serious. She addressed them.

  “I expect we’ll see the enemy troops arrive at our doorstep today. I know we are protected by the walls of our perimeter but I would be surprised if they’d come all this way without a plan for overcoming them. Stay prepared and alert. Captain Mazaran will call for us when they show.”

  Then she stepped away to brew some strong tea. With confrontation imminent her body felt wired and alert but she knew from experience that it took energy to maintain that. She’d be better off relaxing, even napping, though she didn’t hold out much hope for that. Instead she curled up with her tea in a chair and let her barrack see that she was unworried about the force approaching. She knew they would be even more high strung than she was.

  There was very little to do to prepare. Some of the members cleaned and checked over their weapons, others opted to meditate or run through some practice swings outside. Arreal and Sabir came and sat with her, running through different scenarios for a while until they lapsed into silence, waiting.

  The voice over the announcement system sounded out around midday. Reports were that the enemy was approaching in full force and that none had been seen splitting off. Captains were to leave two soldiers, one a ranked member, to guard their perimeter and report with the rest of their barracks to the main gate.

  Dahlia arose and issued instructions. “Genji, you and Rezzi are on the perimeter. If anything approaches obscure with a cover and alert us with fireworks overhead. Do not attempt to engage. Projectiles only until reinforcements arrive. Even if you only see one or two soldiers there’s a good chance they will be attempting to draw you out. Everyone else fall in and follow me.”

  They moved out into the yard and Sabir and Arreal fell in behind her with Fidelity leading the rest of her barrack behind them. They moved swiftly towards the gate, arms at ready, tension mounting in the air and a deadly silence settling over the area.

  They mounted the steps to the top of the wall above the gate and took their place between Ravin and Borreal’s barracks, facing the center where Mazaran stood with his elite team. She caught sight of Ravin, also dressed in all black save for his captain’s jacket. His sword, sheathed, hung at his side. The black chain that matched hers was attached, clanking against it. Alone at the head of his barrack he made an imposing figure. Fierce and savage, she saw echos of the dragon around him.

  Borreal’s slight form appeared relaxed ahead of his men. He spoke softly to Traedon whose cardinal-red hair was bound up into a mane that spilled down like fire in the sun. The tattoos adorning his neck, face, arms, and hands gave him an exotic look next to his conservative and graceful captain. His spine was straight and erect and the sword strapped smartly to his hip marked him as the skilled warrior he was. He turned slightly, caught her eye and winked. Her lips curled as she suppressed a smile and turned to watch as the dust from the enemy’s movement towards the gate became visible.

  The trees made it hard to tell their numbers until they reached the clearing that stretched a few hundred yards before the gate. It had been carefully cultivated to give a home field advantage to her force who knew the area backwards and forwards. Anyone approaching the gate would be trapped in an open field that allowed a clear shot down onto them from the high wall above. Meanwhile part of her force could slip through the cover of the trees to surround and pick off enemy soldiers who were less familiar with the area.

  As they marched into the field below she sized up their numbers. No question they outnumbered the soldiers on the wall significantly but her trained eyes caught how unfamiliarly many of them held their weapons. They were not all trained fighters, though numbers could overpower skill no matter how superior.

  The men came to a halt as one of the commanders on horseback signaled, though not as cleanly as a well trained army would have. Dahlia saw a few trip over each other. Another man on horseback approached the gate and the ranged weapons on the wall targeted him.

  He opened his mouth and a loud voice rang out, “I am Master Zarek, the voice of the Emperor appointed to open negotiations with whoever here has the authority to speak for your so-called God-King Sayerun. Let him present himself.”

  Captain Mazaran moved forward, five other members of the council behind him. “I am Captain Mazaran, commander of the God-King’s forces and I have the authority to speak with his voice. Why have you brought armed men to our gates?”

  Zarek bellowed out, “We seek retribution on one you are housing. A dark legend reborn into a woman’s body. As in days of old, our people have been vanishing without a trace and those that return do so with broken minds. Just last night our troops were attacked in your woods by shadows and darkness. We have found signs that the Puppet Master has returned and that you have given the fiend sanctuary.”

  Dahlia’s heart froze, her breath caught in her chest. She knew she’d been a target for an attack but this man was saying she was the sole reason for the treason and the intrusions into the force.

  Mazaran spoke, “I hear you speak of legends and tales. We know nothing of those here. We have soldiers of flesh and blood. None of which you have any claim over.”

  “This darkness incarnate you know by the name of Dahlia DeMorra. Turn her over to us and we shall leave these gates and your walls intact. Otherwise we shall tear them down and burn your bodies in our gods-blessed mission to destroy that creature.”

  Dahlia heard Traedon swear as her name was spoken and saw Borreal grab his arm and motion firmly for him to remain where he was. Then Borreal moved to her.

  “Come with me, Mazaran will need you.”

  Dahlia regained her composure and nodded before turning to Sabir. “Lieutenant Sabir, you are in command until I return.”

  Hearing his name, Sabir nodded his head in a quick jerk. His expression remained frozen.

  Dahlia followed Borreal further up the wall as Mazaran’s voice rang out. “You have made grave accusations against a captain sanctioned by the God-King and his council. I will take council to carefully consider our response.”

  Zarek nodded and folded his arms across his chest and waited. As Dahlia and Borreal approached, Mazaran was deep in conversation with the council. They stood firm until he moved to join them.

  “Captain DeMorra, I will not ask if there is any truth in his accusations for I know there is none. I need you to understand the position he has placed us in before I make a request of you.” Mazaran held her gaze with steady, unreadable eyes.

  “He has announced a title that, until now, has been kept quiet and asked for you to be sacrificed in order to prevent conflict. That is not an option for us. We will never hand over one of our own to a howling mob. To do so would show weakness and be grave treason. So I have been authorized to diplomatically tell him to go to hell. But there may be repercussions. They have made it clear that they will fight and it seems inevitable men on both sides will die. I would broke no one to openly place the blame at your feet and yet this man, Zarek, has sowed the seeds of fear within their hearts that may blossom into resentment and anger. The council has given another option, one that I will gladly accept your refusal on and will defend you to my last breath for I believe this is a ploy to mask their true
motives.”

  Dahlia held her breath, waiting for his words.

  “Would you face their champion in trial by combat to destroy these accusations and let the gods judge your accusers? I know what I ask is unfair.”

  She felt Borreal stiffen beside her but she responded before he could.

  “It is my honor to serve as a captain of this force. I swore to protect the soldiers under me and those I fight alongside. I would face a trial by combat in hopes that the gods will judge my innocence and no other blood will be spilled. As one of the twenty-one captains of the God-King’s force I fear no man.”

  Mazaran nodded slowly, “You show honor and bravery beyond what is expected of you.”

  “I offer only what any other soldier of this force would in my place.”

  “Very well, I will issue the challenge.” Mazaran strode away.

  Borreal gripped her arm and whispered in her ear, “It is a risky and unexpected move on his part. Given that your attackers were specifically informed you were to be left alive I doubt they ever meant to kill you. That will hamper them if they accept the trial by combat. If they do not then they will reveal their lies.”

  Dahlia nodded but truly it didn’t matter. She was ready to face someone in open combat. The memory of the exhilaration from the night before welled up in her mind. That would just be a prelude to this. She was ready to face someone who would offer her a real fight. Her body was taunt as a bow string and her hands ached to grip her axes. They could bring everything they had to throw at her, she was ready to take them down or die. She felt the anticipation rising in her as Mazaran’s voice rang out.

  “Zarek! You have offered accusations and made a demand for one of our respected captains, one who has been offered the God-King’s own blessing. All I hear from you are half-truths. I offer my own accusations, I believe you want this woman for your own gain.”