by Jean Murray
In all his years in the Underworld he had never dared step into the river that birthed him. The only time a warrior returned was at his death. All feared entering would herald an early demise.
“Our clothes will need to be burned,” she jumped up and ran to the edge of the green bank. She grabbed several dry palms and rotted wood. Bomani looked over his shoulder at the sound of her striking two rocks together. The spark ignited and gray smoke rose from the center.
When the fire was rolling, she tossed in his shirt and pants. Black smoke billowed and sparks snapped as the fire consumed the black blood. Siya pulled her shirt off and threw it into the fire. Bomani forced his gaze from her beautiful curves to the dark horizon.
The water rippled around his waist. Warm hands pressed to his back and pushed him deeper. He resisted, but then gave into her demands until the water rose to chest high.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” The stitch of pain in his side was almost healed.
She glided around until she was facing him. The water lapped at the tops of her breasts and shadowed the blush of her nipples. She reached out and palpated his side. Warmth spread through his abdomen at the touch of her hand. Her brows furrowed over her pain filled eyes. “You are already healed.”
“I am sorry about the youngling.” If he had just known, the youngling would have never been captured.
“He is better off.”
“What is going on there?” It angered him that Bast would sit back and watch while more innocent lives were lost.
“My father came to see me a few nights ago. Wanted me to join him.” She looked towards the beach. The orange glow of the fire reflected in her eyes.
“You refused?”
“Menthu does not take no for an answer. He will strike where it hurts most until I agree.”
“He must know you will not.”
“I may not have a choice.” She frowned.
He searched her face for an explanation but realized the answer had been there all along. She was only half Creation. He had seen a glimpse of her other side during their first encounter. Red eyes, fangs. The Destroyer. Was there truth in the rumors?
“I will not let that happen.” He stepped closer and brushed his thumb against her cheek to remove the black drops of blood.
“You may not have a choice.” She refocused back on his chest. Her sand covered palms rubbed against his skin, removing the rotten serum.
Her words left him empty. Trapped between worlds, he was sinking deeper in quicksand, and at some point, there would be no escape.
“How did you know to call me Siya?” she asked after the long silence, her gaze searching his face.
He rinsed his hand in the water and moved to her forehead. “I do not know. An echo of Khalfani’s memory.”
Her hands paused on his chest. “Do you carry all of his memories?”
He shook his head and continued to trace her brows, nose and the line of her jaw with his fingertips. Such soft perfect skin. He continued his exploration of her neck and bare shoulders. The tension in her body melted under his touch, and she closed her eyes.
His gaze came to rest on her parted lips. Heat pulsed in aching waves. Longing to kiss her, he leaned down and brushed his lips against her parted mouth. She sucked in a breath and he followed, sealing her with a longer, harder kiss.
“We cannot do this.” Her protest was muffled by his persistent and unwavering exploration.
He pulled her close, craving the press of her bare flesh. Her palms remained planted against his chest in such a way he feared she would shove him away again. He snared her wrists and pulled them up around his neck, bringing her even closer. Undaunted, he penetrated her mouth with his tongue. His body roared to life, injury or not. Millenniums of hunger poured through him.
He gripped her tight, refusing to let go. For the first time, pleasure overrode his pain. His soul devoured her energy, feeding it on a level he could not comprehend, but he wanted more.
He traced her spine with his palm to the small curve of her bottom. Her tongue tangled with his. He groaned and backed her towards the shore, committed to claiming her. He eased them back on the black sand and settled between her legs. The tip of his cock met the wetness of her arousal.
He pressed his forehead to her chest, wanting so much to plunge himself into her core. Consequences be damned. So long he had denied himself.
Her fingers tangled in his hair and guided him over to her breast. He captured the taut nipple in his mouth, nipping and sucking until she squirmed. The movement pushed him a little deeper.
She widened her legs and rolled her hips. Urgent and unforgiving, he thrust into her. Anger, lust and punishment. Forethought to the consequences held no bounds, just an insatiable need. Her gasps of pleasure beckoned him to continue, despite the gravity of the act.
Siya wrapped her arms around his neck and enclosed his hips with her legs. He slid his hands down and cupped her ass. The next thrust connected deep within her core. She arched into him and cried out.
Gods, she was beautiful.
A red-hot energy rushed through his veins, fed by the life force he carried in his soul. It traveled to his balls swift and sure. The drive to claim her was strong and unrelenting, like nothing he had ever felt before. The change brought him out of his high, nagging him to stop.
Her tongue tracked along smooth sensitive skin between the tattoos on his neck while her nails dug into the flesh of his back, igniting sensations beyond rapture. The taste of sweet vanilla flooded his senses and overrode his second thoughts.
Besides her, nothing else mattered. He was free from pain at least for as long as he could last. He hissed out a breath, fighting the burn in his cock.
He dug his fingers into her ass and slammed into her. Unable to stop some of his seed from spilling into her, he groaned.
“Bomani,” Siya cried, pleasure creasing her face. Her pale green eyes stared back at him with an agony he wanted to end. The next thrust sent her over, clenching him tight. His entire body shook with her orgasm. He tasted it with every cell in his body, as if it was his own.
The ecstasy exploded between them, snapping his hold. He roared with the detonation of his orgasm. He forced himself into her until it was unbearable. Siya jerked in his grasp, almost breaking his hold on her.
He breathed in deep, his chest full of energy and contentment. The scent of lilacs saturated his nose, stronger than it had before, and the ache in his chest was absent. He sighed and pulled her tighter, refusing to wake from his bliss.
The loud pounding of her heart against his chest forced him back to reality. She moved her left hand from his neck to her breast. Her breath ceased for a moment, followed by rapid rising and falling of her chest.
Her skin lit up like hot coals, forcing him to pull back.
Horror had replaced the rapture in her eyes. Her face paled to a pasty white and her hand was clasped tightly over her heart.
“Siya,” he said, now fully alert.
Her mouth dropped open but no words escaped her lips.
“What is it?” Alarmed, he pulled her hand away. The skin over her left breast blackened before his eyes into a symbol of a lion with a crescent moon.
He stared at it, dumbfounded and confused and then met her stricken gaze.
“No,” she gasped, shaking her head as tears rushed down her cheeks.
His euphoria evaporated, replaced by sheer panic. The fact it was her feelings he sensed through the bond, only sealed the truth. Their souls were irreversibly bound.
“Shit!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Did you know this would happen?” Siya slammed her palms into his chest and shoved him off.
“No. Fuck, I did not even think it was possible,” he said and rolled onto his back.
“How can this happen? You are a warrior.” Her voice resonated stronger, but the color had yet to come back to her face.
“I was born a warrior, just different from the rest
.” He looked away, feeling the brevity of his mistake. Asar’s blood ran through his veins. One of the most powerful gods in the Pantheons. Bomani may have lived his life as a warrior, never tapping into his powers, but it did not dismiss the fact he was still a god or least half so. He stood and started to pace. The fact he was still aroused did not help matters.
“What does that mean? Isis, did Bast put you up to this?”
“No!”
“Gods, it would be just like her,” Siya groaned and pressed her hand to her forehead.
“Bast does not know what I am.”
“I do not believe you.”
Bomani stalked forward and grabbed Siya by the shoulders. “Bast does not know. No one does.” It had been a long held family secret between Asar, Kamen and Bakari. Bomani himself had not been told until he had assumed command of the legion.
“You are Asar’s son?” She closed her eyes and swallowed a breath.
“Yes.”
She waivered on her feet, enough he moved to catch her. “Do you realize what has happened?” She stared down at his mark on her chest and dug her fingernails into her skin. “Why did you let it happen?”
“Me?” he snapped. “It takes two, and if I remember correctly you did not stop it either.” Arousal stirred with the mere memory of her legs wrapped around him, tightening and releasing with each stroke. “A bond can only be established if both parties desire it,” he said. Apparently, it did not take much want. He was not even thinking anything long term, just the here and now. Mistake or not, he wanted to replay the encounter.
Her cheeks flushed red with her own arousal communicating through the bond. She jerked back, breaking his hold, as if that alone would sever their connection. She walked to the water’s edge and crossed her arms over chest, effectively hiding his brand.
He never gave his symbol any thought. He had no want of it. However, seeing it on her chest beckoned something deep inside. The bonding went both ways. He searched his chest for her mark, but his dark scarred skin revealed none of what he felt inside.
“Maybe the bond is only one way,” she said with a catch of hope. She walked towards him and touched his legion brand. The static charge penetrated deep into his heart. The mark may not be there, but he could feel the connecting energies. As did she, based on the frown on her face.
She looked up with a pained gaze. “I will find a way to release you from this.” Grimacing, she grabbed the back of her neck.
Her regret, sorrow and pain resonated through the invisible pathway to his soul. After Kendra he closed off any possibility of another relationship. Now he had one he had not asked for. The repercussions of their carnal act seeped into his mind. What would Bast do to him? Or to Siya?
Suddenly overwhelmed he had incriminated himself further, heat burned in his chest. Isis, he had bound himself to a demon. He hated himself the minute the thought entered his mind. Siya was so much more. Even knowing her heritage, he wanted her. Craved her deep in his soul.
He may not have known Khalfani, but Bomani knew upon his blood his predecessor would not have marked her, even out of infatuation or some misguided love.
Khalfani had sworn his life blood to protect her, committing not only himself, but all that followed him. Siya may not realize the significance of the tattoo, but Khalfani marked her as a warrior, a brother-in-arms. Something to protect and defend at all cost.
He grasped her hand and pulled her to him. She dug her heels in the sand, but he cinched ahold of her waist. “Let us not make any rash decisions.”
“We already have,” she said and looked down at the mark. The skin had darkened even further.
He cupped her neck, covering her exiler mark. Cold as ice, it had to be killing her. “Let us see where this goes, okay?”
“We both know how this will end.” She leaned her forehead to his chest and pressed his hand harder against her neck. Her warm breath skimmed down his chest and abdomen.
He absorbed her pain, as much as he could tolerate. He had none of the answers, only more questions. What did Bast mean, Siya was a gift to the Underworld? He feared the answer, so kept his mouth shut. He was barely processing the fact his soul was bound to her, knowing would only complicate his life more.
“We need to go back.” Siya slipped out of his grasp.
“No, I do not think that wise.” Bomani intercepted her mid-stride.
“We need to collect the book. I do not know how my father came across it.”
Bomani narrowed his gaze on her. “Book?”
“One of three ancient texts, written at the beginning of time. Spells of our creation. Based on what we saw we need to get it back now.”
“Black with gold hieroglyphics?”
“Yes, you know of these texts?”
“There are more of these books?” Bomani asked, suddenly sickened.
“Our creators had the foresight to see the spells were too powerful to be kept together. They divided them into three books and hid them.”
He sat down in the sand. His life rewound to the dungeon in Aaru. Kendra reciting the spell from a black book with a metal buckle. Nebt thrusting the dagger into Kendra’s back and running off with the text. Colored by his own hatred, Bomani did nothing to stop Nebt. Menthu obtained the book because Bomani failed to protect the one thing he loved most. His home, the Underworld.
“If Apep gets ahold of these books, will he be able to break free?” Bomani squeezed his throbbing head.
“He does not need all of the books to escape. He just needs the right one.” Siya knelt in front of him. “This book might have the right spell to nullify what happened here,” she said.
Nullify, a fancy word for forget. One of many mistakes he would like to erase. “All the more important to go back,” he said with renewed emptiness in his chest.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Siya forced her gaze to the window of her quarters while Bomani dressed in a new set of clothes. He had not said much since leaving the beach. She commended him for wanting to protect her, but the stark reality was no one could. He, on the other hand, was savable.
“Let us go.” Siya slapped his short sword in his hand without looking him in the eyes. “We will be lucky if the book is still there.” She turned and pulled on a new coat.
“And the siravants?”
His sudden break in silence drew her gaze up. His eyes were black again and a chill set against her skin. His wound had healed incredibly fast. The blade was meant for her. Had it not been for Bomani, it would have been.
“A serious threat. Do not let them bite you,” she said, remembering the pure malice reflected in the beast’s black eyes. She had not seen them in their true form since the war, feeding off the dead on the battlefield and infecting those with weaker constitutions.
Her time with humans had weakened her, giving her father the perfect target. Her father exploited the one thing he knew would push her over the edge. Her mind strayed to the Fay and Earl, the younglings and Bomani. She had far more to lose if her father ever found out.
If she could just turn back time and erase the damage she had done. If she had only known for all of their sakes. She only wanted to silence the pain, and being with them provided relief from her worries and burdens. As for Bomani, she zeroed in on the one thing that would quiet the demon inside. Sex with Bomani still haunted her and probably would forever. Powerful and possessive. She should have known by the incredible essence, he was not just a warrior.
If she kept him at a distance, maybe the bond could be minimized. She prayed for it. “Ready?” A good fight would expend the pent up energy stirring in her belly.
“Yes, goddess.”
His deep voice sent a shiver down her spine. Gods, part of her was not sorry it happened and wanted more. She diverted her gaze and forced the warmth from her soul. The scarab on her neck burned hotter. He could never be hers. “The book is in the room by the stairs,” she said. “Take us there.”
He grasped her hand. His energy pulle
d on her soul until it floated lighter than the air around them. Her vision blackened with only smells, energies and sounds to orient herself. Like being submersed in the island’s water, she buoyed in Bomani’s embrace.
Flying. Floating. Free.
Such a different sensation from the way she traveled. For the first time, she was completely under the control of someone else, down to the very molecules of her body. Despite her uneasiness, she gave in to him.
The energy shifted, becoming heavier. The scent of death filled her nose first, then the blackness lifted, her body becoming heavier until the weight consolidated in her feet and legs. Bomani’s hand rested against her abdomen, steadying her from behind. Her eyes adjusted to the light of the room.
The ingredients were toppled and strewn across the floor. The table lay empty. Cursing under her breath, Siya stooped and scanned underneath. They were too late.
“Where are the bodies?” Bomani asked, staring out the door.
She moved to his side. The once knotted chains hung loose. She freed her broad sword and walked into the room. The blood remained undisturbed in the large collection basin. As for the bodies, nothing was left. She would have expected pieces of bone or flesh if the siravants dined on the corpses. “They took the bodies?”
“Possessed them.” He moved to the far corner. “The pile of clothes are gone.”
She turned on her heels and headed for the room next to the stairs. The room still contained the maggot riddled bodies. These humans served a different purpose or were too decomposed for a siravant to possess.
“Siya,” Bomani called out from the main room.
She returned and followed his gaze. Hieroglyphics surrounded the platform from which the bodies hung. She had been too overcome before to notice.
“Spells from the book?” Bomani asked.
“The book’s pages were blank, unless someone broke the protection spell.” She shook her head. “Menthu is no priest.”
Bomani looked to the floor and remained silent. He did not even glance her way. “Menthu has the book because I gave it to him.”