by Lisa Oliver
“You spoke to Silvanus? You know what’s in this book?” Artemas had to take it, his fingers gave him no choice in the matter. As soon as his skin touched the cloth, he could feel the aura of the book calling to him.
“We didn’t even look to see what was in the parcel,” Lasse laughed, standing next to his brother. “We figured it was a book, but then if Silvanus was going to court you, it was only right he respected your love for the written word.”
“Court me?” Artemas whispered. That was a totally different attitude to “I’ll know where to find you when I’m ready to see you.”
“It’s what mates do when their promised one is reluctant,” Nereus said easily. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
Artemas barely noticed his brothers disappearing from the library. A wave of his hand took care of the untouched beverages. Inhaling raggedly, Artemas placed the cloth bound book on the now clear table. His fingers shook slightly as he tugged at the plaited hemp ribbon, the cloth falling open to reveal the carving that had attracted his attention in the first place. Laying on top of it, written in flowing script, Silvanus had left a short note. All it said was, ‘You are worth everything.’
Tears prickled at Artemas’s eyes as he carefully opened the cover.
Chapter Eight
Silvanus watched from the shadows as his promise slowly read the words he’d written centuries ago. The book had been crafted during a time of change for him. Forests were well established, rolling green hills dominated all he could see. Human occupation was slowly evolving, but while the Mother was respected and revered among the population, Silvanus was barely mentioned in the prayers around the camp fires at night.
In a way it was fitting, Silvanus knew that. He was given guardianship over a small part of what the Mother controlled, and he took his duties seriously. Various populations around the globe were forming their own religions, giving rise to Gods like Zeus and Poseidon, Odin and Freya, Ra and Bastet. At the time, prayer and belief gave rise to creation and a myriad of god-like creatures rose in accordance with the beliefs of their followers. Those gods in turn created others and so the cycle continued.
But no offspring stemmed from Silvanus and hadn’t done in all the eons he’d been alive. As he watched the flood of emotions flow across Artemas’s unguarded face, Silvanus allowed himself to dream for a moment. Long forgotten urges for a family surged through his mind; someone to come home to at night – having a beloved with him on those days when his heart broke at the damage done to his domain. It was all there, those dreams personified in the man currently reading his thoughts. Please let those words be enough.
As if reading his thoughts, and something like that just wasn’t possible until they’d claimed each other, Artemas carefully turned the last page, and put the book down with a sigh. “Don’t you think it’s time to show yourself, instead of lurking in the shadows like you seem prone to do? For someone who’s domain thrives on the rush of four seasons, and the waxing and waning of sun and moon, being out in the open, you seem to spend a lot of time in the dark.”
“I’ve been alone for more centuries than I can count,” Silvanus moved away from the cover of the bookcase, stepping into the light. “Dealing with people, any person is difficult on a good day. I owe you a huge apology for the way I treated you when we met. I wasn’t sure how to voice it in a way that would allow you to see the truth in my words and actually hear me this time.”
“You write beautifully,” Artemas probably didn’t realize he still rested his hand on the book’s cover. Silvanus could see the connection and mocked himself for being jealous of it. “I… my reactions to you weren’t beyond reproach either. Please, take a chair.”
One appeared at Silvanus’s side and while it wasn’t as close to Artemas as he would like to be, Silvanus sank into it.
“Now,” Artemas said when he was seated, “can you explain why you decided to stalk me when I bid on your lovely book? I still don’t understand why you didn’t just zap this precious volume to somewhere safe?”
“It’s complicated and yet….” Silvanus rubbed his head and grinned ruefully. He’d already shared his heart with his promise through his book, now it was time to share some failings too. “I’m sure you’ll find this deathly amusing, but since the Fates told me about my promise,” Artemas’s lips tightened, but Silvanus continued, “I was struggling to find a way to meet that person.”
“So, you used your book as bait?” Artemas looked down at the object in question and quickly took his hand off it. “That was hellishly risky.”
“Not bait exactly. Look,” Silvanus ran his hand through his hair. “This was not how I imagined this conversation to go. Do you mind?” Waving his fingers, Silvanus created a small feast on the table between them. The freshest honey, a selection of meats, crusty bread straight from the oven, and enough sauces and pates to suit the pickiest of palates.
“I usually prefer cooking to hand waving,” Artemas smirked, but Silvanus was pleased to see him reaching for a hunk of bread, a plate and knife. I can provide for him. “The book,” Artemas prompted with his mouthful.
“Ah, the book.” Silvanus focused on piling a piece of bread with honey and slices of beef. Leaving it on a plate, Silvanus rested his elbows on the table. “I felt it, when the book was taken by the dark elves. That was roughly three years ago. I was….” Silvanus struggled to find the word he needed. “Conflicted, depressed.” He shrugged. “I’d given up on life. At the time, it didn’t really matter what happened to the book. No one else could read it. It wasn’t like it contained secrets of the universe. It was just the ramblings from my heart.”
Artemas shook his head, his eyes sad, but he didn’t say anything, stuffing a piece of bread in his mouth, forcing Silvanus to continue.
“As you’ve guessed, the connection between that book and myself is strong.” Silvanus didn’t point out Artemas was touching the book again. But Artemas surprised him.
“I don’t think it’s the book’s contents themselves. I think it’s the cover. You carved it.”
Silvanus considered that, agreed, but didn’t say so. He needed to get this next bit out so Artemas could laugh at him, and they could hopefully move onto more interesting things, like kissing. The way Artemas chewed so carefully was doing all sorts of things to Silvanus’s groin area.
“The Fates gave me their promise about the same time as the dark elves were taken out of action. I could feel movements from my book and a quick check showed that the man the elves had given it to, was in a desperate financial situation. He wasn’t necessarily a bad person, but his need for money gave the dark elves the hooks they needed to get him to do their bidding.”
“Which was?” Artemas was enjoying a slice of beef. His long fingers fascinated Silvanus.
“Chaos, I imagine.” Silvanus didn’t know. “What else do the dark elves do but try and upset the natural order of things.”
Swallowing, Artemas clicked up a napkin and wiped his fingers. “So, we have your book, which was stolen by dark elves, for purposes unknown, given to a desperate human who decided to sell it for as much as he could get. I still don’t understand why you bid against me. Any desperate man would be grateful for a couple of hundred thousand dollars, surely?”
“I didn’t bid against you.” Silvanus put down his knife and looked at his mate in horror. “Surely, you don’t think I’d do something as dishonest as try and push the price up?”
“But if you didn’t bid on the book, then who the hell did?”
/~/~/~/~/
Artemas had been finding the conversation surprisingly easy. There was no denying Silvanus’s presence; ancient godly powers filled the room far more effectively than Poseidon could ever manage, encasing Artemas in a warm glow he just wanted to snuggle into. The food was a nice touch, too. Artemas often forgot to eat. What he appreciated was that Silvanus didn’t fill the room with banquet tables full of delicacies that wouldn’t keep a squirrel alive. He went for simple wholesome foods that
Artemas enjoyed.
Listening to Silvanus’s speak – Artemas was a sucker for a deep voice. It was no hardship, getting the man to talk. Silvanus was surprisingly candid. Artemas was warming to the man with every passing second. Parts of him were on board with having him already, but Artemas was used to ignoring his bodily demands. The auction bidding issue pulled him from the friendly warmth he’d been experiencing.
“Silvanus, who the heck was bidding on your book? I was sure it was you after you followed me.”
“It wasn’t me. I don’t know how to use a computer.” Something else we have in common. “I felt it when you touched the book. You had it. I followed you. Does it really matter who else wanted it? They weren’t my promised one, you were. I knew that from the moment the book began to hum with life.”
This guy is older than dirt. Surely, he can’t be that dense about the ways of man. Artemas let out a long breath. “Silvanus,” he inhaled again and said, “My mate.” There. He’d said it. Lightning didn’t come from the clouds and the skies didn’t fall in. The beauty of the hope that filled Silvanus’s face outshone the sunrise. I’ve acknowledged it. Let’s move on. “Someone was prepared to pay one point six million pounds for a book with no provenance, no recognizable author, and in a language no one will ever be able to read. Doesn’t that sound strange to you.”
“You called me mate.” Silvanus voice had a suspicious hitch in it. “You’ve acknowledged our connection.”
Great minds think alike. Artemas tried to soften his concern, which wasn’t easy because worrying was second nature to him. “I knew you were my mate the moment I saw you and I admit, I have issues about that. Poseidon….”
“I did not and never have been intimate in any way with Poseidon. I’ve never been attracted to him,” Silvanus interrupted quickly.
“We’ll get your eyesight checked at some point.” Artemas shook his head, not letting on how relieved that simple statement made him feel. “Please, can we focus on the mystery bidder for a moment. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
The look on Silvanus’s face was pained. “I’ve been out of human affairs a long time, but I know about crazy. Who’s to say it wasn’t a random collector with more money than brains, who wanted the book because it was unique? Surely, you have met types like that before?”
The problem was, Silvanus was right. There were some people who heard the word “one of a kind” and just had to have it, no matter what it was, or how ridiculous the price. Artemas ended up paying more than he’d wanted on occasion to secure something he just had to have in his collection. Not that money was the object, for him at least. It was the principle that counted. But how to explain…?
“I’m worried about your book. You’re right, I know you are. I’ve met a lot of those rich entitled assholes in my lifetime, but it’s here,” Artemas pointed to his gut. “The worry is here and it’s not easing up.”
“We are a thousand leagues under the sea.” Silvanus waved his hand at the stone ceilings. “This place is warded like no other. Who could possibly gain entrance to Poseidon’s realm without an invitation.”
“You,” Artemas mumbled. “Orin, Thor’s mate, pops in and out all the time, he’s only half elf, but elves can traverse the realms at will. Other gods, Greek ones with a familial link to my father.”
“Ah, my promised one is a worrier.” Silvanus was suddenly pressed against Artemas’s side. Strong hands soothed his hair and removed his glasses. “I know you don’t need these. They make you look incredibly hot and normally, I wouldn’t have a problem with you wearing them. But I need to kiss you now and they’ll get in the way.”
“Kiss me.” Artemas meant the words as a question but Silvanus’s lips were on his before he had time to blink. Fuck me with a feather duster, this man knows what he’s doing. Refusing to be a passive recipient, Artemas curled his arm around Silvanus’s neck, and gave as good as he got. The kiss quickly turned heated, a clash of teeth, lips and tongues. Artemas was thinking about translocating them to somewhere more comfortable when Silvanus pulled away.
“Damn it! Don’t stop now.”
“Artemas.” Silvanus rested his forehead on Artemas’s shoulder, his body shaking with the force of his heavy breathing. “I swear, I want you more than anything in this universe. But we need to talk.”
“I think we’ve done more than enough talking.” Artemas tried to tilt Silvanus’s face in his direction but the bigger man wouldn’t move.
“We’re gods,” Silvanus panted.
“Yep, and consenting adults.” Artemas wanted to whine with frustration. Silvanus could not ply his lips with such ardor and then expect them to stop just because he was having a crisis of conscience.
“Gods, Artemas. Male gods. Think about the repercussions for a minute.”
Male gods. Male gods. Male gods. “Right. Thought about it…” And then bam, the implications of what Silvanus was trying to say hit Artemas below the belt. Not enough to give him a full on droop, but the urgency from minutes before weakened. “Pregnancy. Oh, my gods, I don’t know if I can do that.”
“You don’t want children?” Silvanus tilted his head slightly in his direction but Artemas couldn’t interpret the expression on his face.
“Do you?”
“I asked you first.” A ghost of a grin flickered around Silvanus’s lips.
“Having children should always be a mutual decision, not an accident.” Artemas closed his eyes. “No child should ever be labeled a mistake.”
“Oh, my promise, believe me, you were a mistake worth making. But I totally agree, even though that doesn’t answer my question. Artemas, if we do this….”
“I know, I know.” If Artemas thought his guts were churning before, that was nothing on how they felt now. “I have to be honest with you. I’ve never thought about children of my own. I’m not saying I don’t want them sometime in the future, but we’ve only just met. I’ve got baggage – truckloads of it and you’re still getting used to living in modern times.”
“And then, there’s always the question on who would be blessed with carrying our offspring.” The wry humor in Silvanus’s voice had Artemas opening his eyes. “We can always petition the Fates – ask them to wait before attaching another thread to ours if you so desire.”
“They’d listen to you?” Artemas wanted to slap himself for such a stupid question. Of course, the Fates would listen to Silvanus – they were probably related. “Do you think that would work?”
Silvanus nodded. “Contrary to your father’s belief, the Fates don’t spend their times trying to mess with the life threads they weave. But in the meantime, it means we’ll have to take precautions.”
“I’ve never known of a condom that could withstand the might of a god’s sperm,” Artemas said, thinking that creating one would be a good idea. Gods were awfully good at spreading their seed around.
“Even the strongest of wraps wouldn’t work with me,” Silvanus said glumly. “I carry the spark of creation in my powers. Whoever decided to bottom could end up pregnant from the very first time.”
Disappointment crushed Artemas’s heart. “I suppose you want to go then – seeing as we can’t fuck until we’ve had the all clear from the Fates.”
“What do you take me for?” Silvanus’s head came up sharply. “You have a lot to learn about me, my promise. Who said mates were only for sexual purposes? Who said fucking is the only option we can enjoy?”
“You mean…?” Artemas moved until his lips were almost touching his mate’s.
“I mean there a plenty of ways we can enjoy each other, my promise. Starting with this.”
Damn, those lips are going to become addictive.
Chapter Nine
Lips were often overlooked in the realm of erotic pleasures, but they had the power to render a person legless. Silvanus’s depression had rendered his cock useless except for its most basic of functions. The thought ‘food to a starving man’ came to mind as he and Artemas shared breath.
Everything about his promise called to him on a cellular level. His roaming hands found no soft spots, Artemas was as sleek and powerful as an Orca and just as deadly to his self-control.
“Hold tight,” Artemas muttered against the skin of his throat.
As if he could let go. Silvanus was happy to go wherever Artemas wanted to take him, provided it had a flat surface. As their molecules solidified, Silvanus caught the scent of wattle trees, and the sound of a Kookaburra. Home, he thought, Artemas has brought me to his home.
The mattress under his back was soft, and as skin met skin, Silvanus realized their clothes had gotten lost somewhere during the trip. Artemas rubbed against him, reminiscent of a cat starved for affection. Silvanus could totally relate. His whole body felt alive for the first time in centuries. But it was his dick demanding the most attention. Sliding his hand down the rippling muscles of Artemas’s back, Silvanus filled his hands with his promise’s rounded butt cheeks, pulling them so their cocks aligned, trapped between them.
“Never felt like this,” Artemas breathed as Silvanus felt a small nip on his ear. The sharp nip zipped through his nerve endings, shooting straight for his leaking cock. “Never felt as though I’d just explode if I don’t get off. You read about it, even dream about it on occasion, but feeling it… wow.”
You can still talk. Silvanus could barely manage a grunt in reply. But the sharp line of Artemas’s jaw called to him, and as he licked across it, his promise tilted his head, arching his neck. Silvanus didn’t have any vampire tendencies, but he trailed his mouth down the path offered, pausing to suck and raise a mark. Every suck on his mate’s neck caused Artemas’s hips to thrust and before long their abs were slick with precome and sweat.
Artemas’s fingers found their way into his hair. Those long slender strong fingers that had fascinated him from the start. A guttural moan tore from Silvanus’s throat and his thrusts quickened. Latching on to a fresh piece of skin on Artemas’s neck, Silvanus sucked and humped, man’s original instincts swamping his brain. Nothing but the urge to climax registered. Artemas cried out and Silvanus’s cock found extra slide in his promise’s come. He didn’t even try to hold himself back, his fingers probably leaving bruises on Artemas’s ass as his body shuddered in climax.