by Sarah Hawke
“Wux…re…sini!”
The words had come from his mouth even though he didn’t understand them. If the thickening girth of his manhood hurt her, Solemi gave no sign. On the contrary, the harder he thrust, the more delirious she became.
“More!” she stammered. “Fuck me! Breed me!”
Snarling, Jorem pushed her head even deeper into the pillows as he slammed into her again and again and again—
And then he finally gave her what she wanted. He unleashed a bestial roar as he exploded deep inside her, flooding her womb with his seed. His body heaved with every spurt, pleasure singing through him, and Solemi’s slender body shuddered as if it were about to burst…
Jorem’s vision went black, and he lost all sense of time and place as an undertow of exhaustion dragged him under. When his eyes finally cleared, his hand—fleshy and not scaled—was clutching a handful of Solemi’s blond hair. Her ass was still held high in the air, and his slowly wilting cock remained lodged deep inside her. If she were any other woman, she would have looked completely and utterly dominated right now. Yet when she turned her head to smile at him, something about the sheer joy on her face made it appear as though she were the one in control despite the man mounting her from behind.
“Perfect,” she breathed. “Lil ulin zhal knan wund uns’aa…”
Panting for breath and slick with sweat, Jorem released his hold on her hair and leaned away. His manhood slipped out of her folds, and she quickly placed a hand over her quim as if she were terrified to let even a single drop of his seed escape.
“The bargain is fulfilled,” she said breathlessly, her green eyes twinkling as she craned her neck back to look at him. “Was it as unpleasant as you feared?”
Jorem watched, still stunned, as she carefully rolled over. He knew he had filled her to the brim, but the last time he’d awakened his dragon during sex, Selvhara had literally overflowed. Gods, I wouldn’t be surprised if she wove some kind of spell to keep it all inside her. The drow are rumored to have all kinds of strange fertility rituals and magic…
“The Rebirth has begun,” said, her eyes fluttering giddily. “I look forward to hearing of your victory soon, my lord.”
“You know, you could always stay and help fight,” Jorem said between gasps. “With your powers, you could—”
A wave of darkness suddenly eclipsed his eyes, and he recoiled and blinked as if he had just walked into a cloud of smoke. When his vision finally cleared, he was still staring at the bed…except this time, Solemi was nowhere to be found.
What in the bloody void?
Jorem glanced around the room. His trousers and jacket were still on the floor, though her dress and ripped lingerie were not. Even the sheets where she had been lying down had turned cold. It was as if she had never been there at all.
“You’re fucking kidding me,” he groaned as he rubbed his eyes one last time. He was really, really starting to hate illusion magic.
Growling angrily, he hopped off the bed and snatched up his trousers. This entire ordeal had been even stranger than he had expected, but as long as the Darkwind army stayed and fought like she had promised, it would be worth it.
Probably.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
“Fuck…” he hissed, tossing one last look at the now-empty bed. He had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time the Black Mistress set foot in Highwind—or the last time he made a choice that would almost certainly come back later to bite him in the ass. Dubious decisions—those might have been his true blood legacy.
Swearing under his breath, he pulled on his jacket, ran a hand through his tousled hair, and strode for the exit.
5
Eternal Bonds
“Knight-Commander, huh? And all you had to do was save the entire Order from annihilation.”
Julian Cassel turned and raised his brow at the tall, dark-haired man approaching from inside the bell tower atop the Silver Temple.
“If I’d have known it was that hard to get a promotion, I might have become a mason instead,” Sir Arden Kerth said, a sly smile on his lips. “Then again, maybe you’re just going about this all wrong, sir. All the rest of the Conclave had to do was get old and nag the right people.”
Cassel rolled his eyes and turned to stare back out over the walled courtyard surrounding the temple. The sun had disappeared over an hour ago, and without its glare to keep the winter winds at bay, a bitter chill had already taken hold over the city. If not for the warmth of the Aether coursing through him, he would have already retreated inside to huddle near a fireplace.
“Getting old helps,” Cassel said, shuffling in place on the balcony. It was only forty or fifty feet off the ground, but the wind was definitely stronger up here than down with the aspirants. “Getting lucky is even better.”
“Luck didn’t break the siege, sir,” Kerth told her. “Luck didn’t liberate the Silver Tower.”
“I suppose that depends on your perspective. Tahira is the one who saved the Order, and the only reason I ever met her is because I got captured.”
Kerth came to a halt and braced his arm on the balcony’s marble railing. “When you put it that way, it sounds more like incompetence than luck. I’ll have to remember to mention my own embarrassing failings the next time I’m up for a promotion.”
Cassel snickered and flashed the younger man a smile. “Just for that, I should demote you back to squire. Or maybe promote you to Knight-Captain—I’m not sure if you’d hate the paperwork more than you hated cleaning out stables.”
“An impossible choice if there ever was one,” Kerth said, chuckling softly before his expression finally sobered. “I did everything I could to get the recruits ready. I don’t know how effective they’ll be without magic, but I figure the more swords we have on the walls, the better.”
“Our barriers will make or break us,” Cassel said, tilting his head west. The overcast sky had almost completely swallowed the moon, but there were enough scattered rays that he occasionally caught sight of wyverns in the air over the mountains. “We just don’t have enough men to protect the entire city. We’ll have to consolidate our forces and hope that General Serrane can defend our flank.”
“And the dragon.”
“And the dragon,” Cassel murmured. “Escar’s mercy, it still doesn’t seem real…”
Shaking his head, he turned away from the railing and gestured back into the temple. Kerth followed his lead, probably just as happy to get out of the cold as everyone else.
“The rumors of the dragon’s power become more outlandish every day,” the younger man said. “Though I suspect most people just aren’t sure what to believe yet. First a giant purple dragon seizes control of the city for the Black Mistress, then a giant red one shows up and torches the warship blocking the river. I can’t really blame anyone for thinking it’s the end of the world.”
“Or the beginning of a new one,” Cassel said. The temple’s enormous bell hung silently in front of them, but when he peered over the rafters, he could see all the way down to the main hall on the bottom floor. Tahira was there right now, her long red hair a stark contrast to her black priestly vestments. The knights Cassel had handpicked to guard her were nearby, as were several squires she had recently imbued with power.
“When we were out in the plains planning to retake the city, I was a lot more concerned about the girl than I was about the battle,” Kerth said, following his commander’s gaze. “Now I’m worried that we won’t be strong enough to protect her.”
Cassel nodded gravely. “There is a story in one of Highlord Kastrius’s old books about the Conduits who once ruled most of Varellon. They were basically the mortal avatars of the gods until the Wyrm Lords eventually destroyed them. Though honestly, their lives seemed miserable in a lot of ways. They were so important to the survival of their kingdoms that they were locked away in vaults where no one could reach them. Everyone knew that if their Conduit died, their entire civilization would col
lapse. Their servants would lose the ability to channel in a heartbeat…and then rot away and die from the Wasting Echo.”
“What a lonely life,” Kerth murmured. “But frankly, sir, I wish we could lock her somewhere safe, at least for now. The Inquisitrix will absolutely send her Senosi to try and kill Tahira. If they succeed—”
“Then the battle is over,” Cassel finished. “Dragon or not, Highwind won’t survive without us to defend it.”
Kerth nodded gravely. “So what is your plan, sir? By this time tomorrow, the city could be under siege again. Perhaps we should stick her in the Citadel?”
“Absolutely not,” Cassel said. “You wouldn’t even suggest that if you knew what it was really like in there.”
“Uh…sorry, sir,” Kerth stumbled. “I just meant that—”
“I would rather keep Tahira here where I can keep an eye on her,” Cassel went on. “I had planned to defend her myself, but Crowe wants me on the walls giving orders.”
“So that’s why he really promoted you,” Kerth mocked. “He’ll get to sit back and finish off the wine stores while the new guy gets eviscerated by wyverns.”
Cassel snorted. “If only it were that simple.”
Kerth chuckled and eyed the massive sword on the other man’s back. “Is that your new badge of office, sir? I didn’t think the smiths had the resources to make any new blades.”
“They don’t,” Cassel said. “It was a gift.”
Kerth whistled softly. “Damn. Maybe I do need to shape up so I can get one of those for myself.”
Cassel grinned. Thinking about the blade reminded him of the unprecedented—and frankly unbelievable—faith that Crowe had just shown in him. Whether Retribution actually was one of the legendary Bâl Frohim blades almost didn’t matter; the fact that it might be was enough to make it feel ten times heavier than it was.
He still felt a little uncomfortable lugging it around, but he sure as the void wasn’t going to leave it lying around his quarters unattended. While the sheath on his back was far too awkward for actual combat, it allowed him to keep the weapon close at hand.
“Morning will be here before we know it,” he said. “You should get some sleep. I want you and the rest of the men refreshed and ready to maintain as many barriers as possible tomorrow.”
Kerth nodded. “We won’t let you down, Captain. Sorry—we won’t let you down, Commander.” He smirked again. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”
“You’ll manage,” Cassel said with a dry smile. “And one last thing, actually: head back to the docks and make sure the ballista crews have finished. I don’t want any problems while we’re trying to shoot down those damn wyverns.”
“Yes, sir,” Kerth replied, offering a casual salute as he turned and descended the stairs.
Cassel lingered for a few minutes, his eyes fastened upon Tahira down below. He could feel the Aetheric energy flowing from her to every paladin in the city, and he couldn’t help but marvel yet again at the unfathomable turns the world had taken in such a short time. If someone had told him a few months ago that the Three Corridors would collapse, or that the Order’s only salvation would be an Eternal Priestess…
Julian.
He didn’t so much hear the word as feel it in every part of his body. Tahira was looking up at him, her dark green eyes twinkling. He smiled and raised his gauntlet before he started down the steps and joined her.
“Every knight has been healed!” she announced, practically bouncing forward to meet him the moment he arrived on the main level. “And I didn’t need to restore a single connection today.”
She was brimming with joy, and she probably would have leapt into his arms if the hall weren’t so busy. Her giddy expression made her look even younger than she already was.
And more beautiful.
“Almost fifty knights,” Cassel said, smiling back. “And you’re not having any trouble maintaining the bonds?”
“It gets easier every day,” Tahira told him. “Some of the aspirants have been asking me to grant them power as well, but I have been reluctant to forge any new bonds. I wasn’t sure what you’d think.”
“What I think is that we should take this one step at a time,” he said, gesturing down the long hall leading to his quarters. “If there’s any lesson to be had from the Shattering, it’s that we need to be a lot more judicious about how and when we use our powers.”
“Because of the Wasting Echo?”
“Because of a lot of things,” he said, lowering his voice as they walked. The temple wasn’t normally this busy after nightfall, but the constant flurry of preparation had started to make him feel like they were living in a zoo. Aspirants, priests, squires…they scurried about at all hours these days.
Still, given the option, he would obviously choose the endless bustle over the quiet agony of the Wasting Echo any day. The Order felt alive again. Even if it didn’t last, it was a pleasant reminder of the way things used to be.
And, Escar willing, the way they could be again.
They reached his quarters without being harangued by anyone, which Cassel considered nothing short of a minor miracle. He dismissed Tahira’s guards at the door, and once the two of them were safely inside, he shut his eyes and took a long, deep breath.
Or started to, until Tahira lunged into his arms and kissed him.
“Nnn…!” Cassel moaned as he braced himself against the door and kissed her back. A current of Aetheric energy crackled between them, and he swore the tiny hairs on his arms and legs stood upright. When she pulled him close, his hands reflexively slipped inside the silky folds of her black robe and settled upon her waist. The energy seemed to intensify the longer he held her, and eventually he felt the current surging through every part of his body.
Her tongue and hands seemed desperate for his touch despite all the time they had spent alone together these past few days. Since he didn’t completely trust anyone else to defend her—and since the entire Order hinged on her safety—he had insisted on staying with her every night. He had made love to her in every imaginable way, but she always wanted more.
And the best part of every night is figuring out how to give it to her.
Tahira smiled sweetly when she eventually leaned back, her green eyes glittering. “I do not know if the Eternal Lady can hear my prayers or not,” she said. “But I thank her every night for sending me a protector in my time of need.”
Cassel grunted softly and forced himself to breathe. The echo of her touch reverberated through him, begging him to ask for more. It wasn’t quite as uncomfortable as the Wasting Echo, but it felt far too similar for his tastes.
“I wouldn’t sing my praises yet,” he said. “None of us can predict what’s going to happen over the next few days, but we need to be prepared for the worst.”
“I am ready to do whatever is required,” Tahira said. “The knights will all be drawing power from me at once. I expect that the experience will be quite…harrowing.”
Cassel nodded silently. Her powers had grown every single day since they had first realized she was a Conduit, but that still didn’t mean she was ready for the storm the Inquisitrix was about to unleash. Empowering a dozen knights to battle a token army outside the walls of the city was one thing; empowering those same knights to project massive barriers was something else entirely.
The Silver Fist had used the same technique to hold off the orcs during the Winter War, but they’d also had hundreds of knights rather than dozens. And at the time, they had all unwittingly been drawing from the Fount of Velhari, not a living person. They had no way of knowing how well—or even if—she could hold up.
If she can’t, this battle will be over before it begins. The dragon will be our only hope…
“I have been waiting for this all day,” Tahira breathed as she pulled open the front of her robe and gave him a clear, unobstructed look at her porcelain breasts and bare belly. “Please, take me however you—”
Cassel reached
out and caught her wrists just before she could undress. She looked up at him, her dark green eyes as full of confusion as disappointment.
“Wait,” he said despite the growing fire in his loins. His codpiece was getting more uncomfortable by the moment, but they really did need to talk.
“Have I done something wrong?” Tahira asked, her voice so soft it was almost pitiful.
“Not at all,” Cassel assured her. “I just want to make certain we’re as prepared as possible for tomorrow. We still don’t know when the Inquisitrix will attack, but I doubt she’ll just sit by and allow us to keep bolstering our defenses.”
Tahira nodded slowly as he released her wrists. “I understand. I promise, I will not disappoint you.”
“I’m not worried about that in the least, believe me,” Cassel assured her as he leaned away and began to unstrap the sword from his back. As he approached the nearby equipment rack on the right side of the room, he remembered that he would probably be given new quarters soon. He was almost ashamed, considering how lavish his accommodations already were. The living area of the L-shaped quarters was already twice the size of the one he’d started with as a full knight, as was the adjoining bedroom behind the door on his left.
“I know we’ve talked about it before, but I think it’s worth repeating,” he said, setting Retribution upon the rack. “There are still Senosi hidden somewhere in the city, and I guarantee they’ll come for you—soon.”
“And you will be here to defend me,” Tahira replied. “Together, we shall defeat them.”
“Commander Crowe wants me to take command of our forces,” Cassel told her. “I can’t do that from in here, but I’m also not willing to leave you alone.”
Tahira paused, her eyes flicking anxiously between him and the blade. “I will be able to sense everything that is happening, and I can easily pass along orders to the knights through this bond.”