Soul Awakened

by Jean Murray

  “Oh, my God.” She staggered and slammed into his body. She looked to the left and found similar sculptures of her sisters.

  Her legs wavered. Only the grip of his large hands at her waist kept her knees from buckling. He had been praying to her. She shook her head. “I don’t understand.” The warriors had carved statues of them to be placed among the gods of the pantheon. The weight of her role in this war bore down on her in that instance. The Underworld Pantheon was counting on the Carrigan sisters to save them all. Why, when she was such a small part in this world of gods? Such a small insignificant part of his.

  Why would he choose her to worship when he wanted nothing to do with her? She was just a stupid girl. The memory of his words stung, same as the day he said them. She jerked away, but he pulled her in tighter to his chest and into his lap.

  “You are mistaken, Parvana. It is my insidious desire for you that keeps me away.” He nestled his face into her hair and inhaled a deep breath. His body shuddered against her. Warmth that bordered on hot licked through her body, threatening to melt the barriers she had carefully placed.

  All her work crumbled with the strength of his arms wrapped around her. For a moment, just a moment, she was laying again in his bed within his warm embrace. The same feeling of not wanting to be anywhere else consumed her body and mind. But look at how that ended, her insecurities whispered in her mind.

  He pulled her hair over her shoulder and exhaled a breath along the side of her neck. She shivered and a line of goose bumps traced the path of seduction. The tip of his fingers shook against the skin of her throat. He traced the collar of her gown.

  She scrunched her eyes shut, fighting to suppress the pleasure the contact had created, but she had lost control the moment he touched her. He continued his descent along the v-neck. The burn of his touch shot under her robe to his mark on her skin. He coaxed the material back to reveal the scorpion forever etched into her soul and caressed the mark with his thumb.

  A soft moaned escaped her lips. Her nipples tightened into small peaks followed by heat pooling between her legs. She inexplicitly tilted her head inviting him into the curve of her neck, wanting his lips there. Energy pulsated beneath his scorpion mark, erratic at first, but then organized into uniform waves running from her core out to the tips of her fingers and toes. It moved and shifted independent from her physical response, but potentiated by it none the less.

  He sighed and brushed his lips on the side of her throat. The heat both inside and out intensified and the pulsation of energy grew more urgent.

  Bloodlust. The realization flickered through her mind, but somehow it was more than that. She opened her eyes to find a golden glow about the room, brighter and hotter than when she first arrived. The torches surged with renewed flames. Candles spilled their molten wax onto the floor.

  She wanted this as much as he did. She hungered for his mouth against her skin, consuming her. She looked at him from the side. His eyes were dilated, leaving only a faint ring of silver. The white tips of his teeth descended below the line of his upper lip.

  The waves of energy crashed like a Gregorian chant, beckoning spirits to be let loose or burst from her chest. She arched and pushed his hand deeper into her robe. His hand slid to cup her breast. His fingers brushed her nipple.

  A deep growl vibrated through his chest. He sealed his lips to her neck and sucked without piercing her skin.

  “Yes,” she gasped. Although, she had never had an orgasm before, she was on the verge of exploding. An eddy of energy prematurely burst out. The flames surged higher in the room obeying her command. Her core coiled tighter.

  “You will forever be mine, Parvana.” His grip tightened and he plunged his teeth into her neck.

  The confines of her orgasm broke and surged with each greedy draw of his mouth. She screamed out, as the energy exploded in one grand flash of white light.

  He sucked harder at her vein and sent fire through her body. He stiffened and jerked against her. His roar muffled only by the seal of his lips.

  His tight grip snapped and he reared back. Their intimate bond broken, Kendra slipped to her knees. The white energy fell like sparkles to the ground and extinguished on the wooden floor around her.

  “Isis.” Bakari touched his lips and pulled his hand back. He fixated on the blood on his fingertips. His horrified gaze shot to her and his eyes widened further. “Gods, what have I done.”

  Stunned, Kendra covered her neck with her palm. It was warm and wet to the touch, but no pain. The energy waves subsided, but still left her breathless. “I’m okay. Everything’s okay,” she gasped. Her eyes gravitated to his lips. Blood normally left her weak in the knees, but seeing it there ignited renewed lust. She shivered, unused to the idea of being so sexually driven.

  “Please forgive me,” he choked.

  Kendra stood and wavered slightly. Not because of the blood loss, but weakness from the orgasm he had given her. Curls of pleasure still tingled throughout her body. “You didn’t hurt me.” Heat rushed to her face. “I’ve never experienced that before.”

  He paled at her admission. “Even more reason not to.”

  The dark energy shifted in the room. He was leaving her. “Bakari, please don’t go. We need to talk about this.”

  He evaporated into a black mist.

  Kendra dropped her hands to her sides. “We need to talk about us.” Her original quest and need for the answer of his kidnapping completely derailed by her bond with him.

  Bond of body, mind, and soul.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Bakari materialized outside the warrior camp with Kendra’s intoxicating blood still fresh on his tongue. He staggered under the deluge of energy surging through his body. It took all but a few minutes of her presence to completely unravel his control. He charged toward the communal bath, praying that no one was there at this hour.

  Her sweet scent of arousal penetrated every cell of his body. He had to force his legs to move in the opposite direction of Kendra. His body reveled in the vitality of her blood coursing in his veins. Only his mind rebuked the act. He surged through the door and sought the closest water basin.

  He stared at himself in the mirror. Crimson blood coated his lips. He could not help but run his tongue over the remnants of her. Disgusted with himself, he cupped his hand and brought water to his face. He ran his hand through his short cropped hair. Her scent was everywhere along with his own. He glanced downward to find his pants wet with his own seed and his cock still firm.

  He had not noticed his own arousal at the time. He had been so consumed by his thirst and more importantly Kendra’s reaction to it. His cock jerked remembering her body against his, the tremble of her orgasm, and the soft screams and moans of her pleasure.

  Shocked by it all, he grabbed his penis. He cursed, wanting nothing more than to return to the temple. And what?

  He ripped off his pants and wrist guards and threw them into the corner. He was going to the dark side of Duat for this night. He already had about twenty other reasons why he should be there.

  Furious with himself, he submerged into the ice cold bath. The frigid temperature stung his skin, lashing him like a whip.

  Why the hell did he not leave when he should? Then it hit him, she had come to ask him a question about his kidnapping. The blood drained from his extremities. His arousal lost all interest.

  He sought out those memories, but his mind slammed down a black curtain and shot razors of pain through his forehead. He could not remember a gods damn thing.

  Hunting the wrong god, she had said. Bomani had gone to assist Asar, Kamen, and Kendra’s sisters in the human realm to search for Menthu. The God of War had fallen in battle at the hands of his father. A Mevt dagger to the chest. His body missing after the fight. From what he had overheard from warriors, someone had stolen the body from Thebes. Who would want a soulless corpse?

  After scrubbing his body, he lifted up out of the bath and grabbed a towel to wrap around his wais
t. His body hummed with energy. The scorpion hieroglyphics on his forearms designating him as a God of Death darkened black. Power infused his muscles along with the sense of invincibility and overwhelming satisfaction.

  Satisfaction, he did not earn.

  He rubbed a weary hand down his face. Despite his need for self-recrimination, he felt whole, but at the same time empty. Kendra. He had left her in the temple. Alone. He did not trust himself to be with her in the same room.

  Gods, he was an ass.

  He stuffed his legs into a new pair of pants and headed toward the door. He stopped at the threshold and looked over his shoulder at the pants and wrist guards left lying on the floor. He tired of maintaining the cover.

  Regardless, he stalked over and grabbed the hard formed leather and slid them on over his forearms. His hieroglyphics concealed, his identity erased. With pants in hand, he shoved his fingers into the pocket and retrieved the green flashlight.

  He pushed out through the door and came face to face with Sin and twenty other fledgling warriors. Isis, what now?

  “We need to talk,” Sin said flatly.

  “I am not in the mood.” Bakari moved to the right only to have another warrior step in his way.

  Sin put a hand on Bakari’s chest. “I am not asking.”

  Bakari glared at Sin. “Fine.”

  Sin led him to the warrior hall. The large wall of solid muscle herded Bakari into one of the smaller rooms. Sin dared push him into the chair at the head of the table.

  A goblet of wine waited for him on the table, but Bakari had no interest in drinking it.

  Sin sat next to him and leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Bakari rubbed the back of his neck. “What is not wrong with me?”

  Sin cursed. “Get over yourself. Do you not think we are all that right in the head?”

  “It is not the same.”

  “Really?”

  Bakari looked at Sin and the rest of the warriors. They all stared at him expectantly. They deserved to know the truth. He sighed, “I am not one of you.”

  “Apparently, because no matter how crazy we are, we would not leave a beautiful goddess alone in a place like this.”

  Bakari leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “I messed up, Sin.”

  “Yes, you did. So get your sorry ass out of the chair and go get her.”

  “It is not that simple.” Bakari started to unlace his wrist guard. Sin slapped a heavy hand across the leather. “We all carry the misdeeds of our ancestors. Are you the same god who was kidnapped so many years ago?”

  Stunned, Bakari sat back. They knew who and what he was. He looked into Sin’s eyes trying to detect some measure of disgust or hatred. He found none. In fact, all the fledglings standing before him showed a level of acceptance that Bakari never thought possible. A sense of brotherhood and fidelity. Something he had never had before, ever, in his life. They accepted him as a fellow warrior. Forgiven for his misdeeds. Bakari shook his head.

  Sin tightened his grip. “The god whose sins you carry is dead. You are a warrior now.”

  “I wish that were truly the case.”

  “Well, you better put the god in the grave because I hear he was a real asshole.” Sin smiled.

  “I can confirm that assessment,” Bakari replied. The other warriors raised their goblets and exchanged various remarks.

  Sin rose from his seat and eyed one of the female maidens. The other warriors filed out of the room. On his way out of the door his second in charge looked over his shoulder. “Wear the wrist guards or not. It does not matter to us. But, understand one thing, the hieroglyphics do not make the god, a warrior defines himself by his honor.”

  “Yeah, so I have heard.”

  Bakari stared out at the warriors sharing drinks and laughing. Heaviness formed in his chest. He had never been this close with a group of men before. The camaraderie and teamwork. They would die for him if asked. What surprised him the most, he would not hesitate to do the same for them.

  His brothers.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Kendra trudged silently to the palace with her precious bundle wrapped in her robe. Luckily, she ran into Sin, who graciously escorted her to her bodyguard. She never met a warrior so chatty. He seemed particularly interested in her sister, Lilly.

  The guardian held the door open to her room. She walked to the bed and laid out all the ostraca she had taken from the temple. She didn’t consider it stealing considering they were offered up to her statue. Heck, Bakari had lost claim to them when he ditched her in the temple. Big jerk.

  Was she ever going to learn her lesson and stay away from him? She tried to ignore the warmth between her legs— a reminder of the incredible pleasure he gave her. She looked at her gown. Dimly lit in the warrior village she didn’t see it at first. A hint of red against the pristine white of her robe caught her attention.

  She walked to the bathroom and ran cold water, praying the stain would come out. The beautiful silk couldn’t take a lot of scrubbing.

  Unsuccessful, she dropped it onto the counter and turned toward the mirror. She examined her neck. A small amount of blood and bruising surrounded two small puncture marks. She had a hickey. The shirt she had worn under her robe didn’t cover the area. How many warriors saw it? Sin had to have seen it.

  How the heck was she going to cover this up? Not that she could hide it from Kit. Kit had this innate ability to sense when someone had sex. Not that she had sex, but it was the closest she ever came to the act. She pulled over a tumble of hair, but it didn’t quite cover it. She decided to put on her sweat shirt.

  She pulled open her drawer and threw clothes over her shoulder. When she came up empty she started digging through the stack of clothes in the bureau. Nothing. Grumbling, she stuck her head into her linen basket.

  The ache in her chest dissipated, replaced by that now familiar tingle of warmth. She froze. Bakari was here.

  With words at the ready she whipped around to confront him. Next to her bed he brushed his fingers against the prayer rolls and then neatly stacked them. His reverence halted the words in her mouth. His face held an anguish, she could only begin to understand. Time stood still when she was around him. Why did he affect her so? Was it simply the blood-bond?

  When his silver eyes locked on her, she could barely breathe. Her heart thundered against the last remaining bars she had built to protect herself. She stepped back, as he rounded the bed. She pressed her back against the wall. A lick of fear tingled her spine. The power that consumed her in the temple pulsated again with each step he took closer.

  The scorpion hieroglyphics stood out against his olive skin. The mark on her chest tingled from the surface all the way to her soul. “What do you want?”

  Bakari stopped a few feet away. “I should have never left you alone.” He glanced away briefly and then knelt before her. Eyes level with her own, he held out his hand and turned his palm over.

  Kendra narrowed her eyes. In his palm was a beat up flashlight. Her flashlight. The metal had patches of green and silver. She stepped forward and touched it with her palm. The flashes of its history assaulted her mind with one pervasive memory repeating over and over—the flashlight clutched in Bakari’s hand and pressed to his chest while kneeling before her statue. Her throat tightened and tears burned her eyes.

  “When did you find this?” she whispered. She had given up looking for it long ago. Lost on that fateful night she woke him.

  “In the dungeon.”

  Confused, she looked up into his eyes. He had said such mean and hateful things to her. He almost took his life and hers with him. Why would he ever want it?

  “To remind me what there was to live for,” he answered, as if reading her mind.

  Kendra stifled a sob. “But, I thought…” Unable to finish, she covered her mouth with her hand.

  “I was so afraid I would hurt you and my fear was right.” He traced his finger
tips over the puncture marks on her neck. “I am not worthy of what you offered me then nor now in the temple.” He cleared his throat and looked her in the eyes. “I ask for your forgiveness.”

  “Bakari, it was my choice to give. I could have said no, but I didn’t.”

  “No less, I do not deserve it. Just as I do not deserve this blood-bond between us. It is too beautiful and pure for someone like me.”

  Kendra pushed his hand away and stepped forward. His face creased with remorse. She couldn’t dissolve his pain of the past, but she could forgive him. Heck, she probably forgave him the moment it occurred. He was right about one thing. The bond between them was indescribable. She felt stronger and more focused when he was near. And although scary, the pulsing energy in her chest matched the rhythm of their bodies. Unifying them as one. It terrified her that the same union could end her life.

  She looked at the ostraca on the bed. In the temple she read several of the scrolls. He confessed his sins. Sins, she couldn’t even comprehend, but it was a time gone by. A past she was never part of. She wondered if that mattered. Could you condemn a man for life even with repentance? She lifted her hand and traced the silver white scars on his chest. Wounds inflicted at the hand of Kepi. Had he already paid for his sins?

  He grasped her hand and turned it over. With his thumb he rubbed the scar on her palm. “I owe you so much.”

  She slipped her hand out of his grasp and touched his face. He covered her hand with his own and pressed his cheek into her palm. A small shudder resonated through his body. Her heart hammered in her chest and the waves of energy pulsed stronger. “You don’t want this bond?”

  His eyes shimmered. “Only for the fact that I gave you no choice.”

  She swallowed against the tightness in her throat and a few tears spilled down the sides of her cheek. “I don’t regret it, so there’s nothing to forgive. I ask one thing.”