by Ophelia Bell
The Diviner’s eyes returned to their former colorful whirlpools and she looked at Silas, pinning him with her stare. “She is an immortal. Any normal blood meld can be nullified by a creature of greater power than the ones who created it. This will be no easy task with my sister.”
“Can you break it?” Silas asked.
Her shoulders sagged and the churning ceased. Gazing down at him with still eyes, he grasped the gravity of the situation from that look. She appeared almost human now—powerless and mortal without the swirl of power in her eyes or the living tendrils on her head, which now appeared as nothing more than shining silver curls.
“Even if I could leave this chamber, I am no more than her equal. There is no single creature on Earth or in any of the higher realms who can overpower her. She has made another mockery of our most sacred ritual like the nymph we cast out eons ago, yet we cannot do to Nyx what we did to Meri without utterly destroying the Haven itself. Even if we could, we dare not subject the human world to her insanity.”
Silas cursed and raked his hands through his hair. “There has to be a way to undo what she’s done. I thought this blood melding shit was bad, but you say it’s sacred. How can something that does this be sacred?”
“It has been outlawed since the first time it was misused this way. A blood meld is not required for a nymph to breed, so the Dionarchs and I agreed that it should no longer be permitted under penalty of exile. At one time, it was the greatest expression of love between a nymph and satyr. The blood meld between a mated pair created another creature of two minds and bodies, but one soul with two aspects. Their awareness was doubled, their power grew twofold. Their love formed an infinite loop that could not easily be broken. We took for granted its power would be respected—a blood meld created without love as its anchor is ultimately corrupt. We learned this with Meri. Her melding was not easy to break, but without love, it was not hard, either.”
“Because she wasn’t immortal,” Silas said.
The Diviner nodded. “And because it wasn’t complete. Her victim gave her his blood but didn’t take hers in return. She took his body and left him untethered. If not for Neph’s love of Meri’s victim and his own blood sacrifice, she would have kept that dragon’s body as her own. The blood meld is that powerful.”
“There has to be a way … Is Neph powerful enough to break his sister’s hold on the Thiasoi?”
“There is a chance he could reason with her, but they are twins. If he attempted to overpower her melding with his own blood, it would likely only strengthen the hold she has on her victims.”
Silas continued to pace, his mind spinning. It didn’t matter that Neph probably couldn’t help—he wasn’t in the Haven, anyway—yet another detail that had Assana off balance with worry.
“Well, what the fuck can you do from in here?” he spat. He stopped and stared at her, hands stretched out at his sides, palms facing the pool.
“If you can bring her to me, I can create a barrier in my cave that will trap her … perhaps buy you some time. The blood melding she has inflicted on the Thiasoi is corruptible without true love to bind it. It requires multiple meldings to complete, but if you fail to interrupt the process, it will be irreversible. That was what I showed you in the orb—her ritual has to be repeated daily until it’s done. It erodes the minds of the nymphs more each day and will be permanent once she’s broken them completely. Once that happens, there will be no returning to sanity for those nymphs. They will be her puppets. The only way to break it is to overpower her connection to them somehow.”
“Is it possible for her to willingly release them?”
“Only if another takes her place. Ideally it will be a true blood meld, anchored by love, else they will be forever bound to her, their minds no longer their own.”
“What are the chances we can talk her into doing that?” he asked.
The Diviner’s frown deepened and her eyes grew glassy. “My sister is strong and unyielding. Once she’s made a decision, she will break before she gives in. Only her mate was ever able to get her to change her mind about something, and Nereus is beyond our reach.”
“But he is alive?”
“He exists. That is all I know. To say he is alive would be a generous assessment.”
Silas mulled over the information, at a loss for what to do with it. He would have to take it back to Gavra and Assana to get their take on things. His earlier question returned to his mind then, along with the pulsing reminder of the energy that he carried. He only had a vague sense of how it worked, much less how to control it, but he’d at least figured out how to avoid sprouting roots every time he serviced Assana.
“I have another question … about what I am.”
“That is simple. You are Gaia’s chosen, one of many potential seeds in each generation of ursa males who is encouraged to sprout and reach for the sun.”
“Can I use this power to subdue Nyx?”
The Diviner shook her head. “What you are is pure potential, as are all seeds. What you become will be dictated by the conditions under which you grow.”
“What did others like me become?”
“Mostly old ursa. Rarely does a Miteradoro come along who is required to fulfill his potential. You may be an exception, or you may not. That is up to Gaia to decide.”
A strange prickling sensation took up residence at the base of his spine, accompanied by a humming inside his skull. He shook his head to dispel it so he could focus on the conversation.
“How will I know?” he asked.
The humming in his head acquired a rhythm and a familiar light, breathy tone that made his cock swell.
“You will know by the strength of your urge to grow …”
Silas didn’t hear the rest of her statement. The rising noise inside his mind became an inexorable flood of emotion and sensation so volatile he instantly turned and ran. All he knew was that something had set Assana off, and he wasn’t there to calm her.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Gavra
Gavra absorbed Silas’s recollection of his meeting with the Diviner with interest and only a little apprehension. There were no clear answers, nor had he expected any, but he started to see hope where he’d had very little before. While he believed he could talk his way into Nyx’s bed, he still didn’t have much faith in his ability to gain her trust enough to change her mind. The Diviner’s assessment of the Dionarch only reinforced that Nyx was every bit as rigid as he thought.
“What do you make of it all?” Silas asked.
“There must be an answer in what she shared. I need time to think. Please make sure Assana is all right.”
“Of course. What about you? She didn’t damage you, did she?”
Gavra chuckled. “It would take more than one wild nymph to wear me out. Her mother, on the other hand … Nyx is actually capable of real damage to a dragon like me.”
“The Diviner didn’t sound like she thought you could overpower Nyx. Are you still going to try?”
“No, I know it’s impossible. I’d have bedded the woman eons ago if my breath worked on her. Believe me, I did try. Then Nereus came along with nothing more than sweet words and utter worship and I knew there was no hope for me. It was better that way. She was a challenge for me—a conquest, nothing more. Nothing like Assana.”
“Assana wants you enough to risk her sanity.”
“And I love her enough to stay safely caged and away from her.”
“We can’t stay like this forever,” Silas said. “After today, it’s clear to me that we need to be together for her sake, otherwise she’ll keep swinging wildly between the two of us, never finding true north. We can’t keep doing that to her. Now that we’re melded, we have to find a way to get you out of there soon.”
Gavra heard footsteps and mentally shushed Silas. He sat up on the bed where he’d lain down damp after a fresh bath. Beyond
the latticework barrier of his cage, several figures advanced up the sun-dappled path. Nyx walked in the center, striding with purpose while the nymph maidens around her marched with the same strange, mechanical gaits as when he’d arrived. There seemed to be a pattern to their mindlessness, as though it waned with time or distance, reinforcing Ephyra’s statement that Nyx wasn’t yet able to maintain complete control over them throughout the day. But how long until she broke them? How long until they couldn’t function without her hands up their asses like a puppeteer controlling their every action?
He ambled toward the front of his cage, ignoring his discarded clothing and opting to conjure something more flattering to his large form. He exhaled a long breath, the wisps of smoke coiling down around his legs into snug red leathers with a faint scale pattern embossed on them. On his upper torso he conjured a sleeveless black tunic with a deep split at the throat.
By the time Nyx made it to the edge of his prison, he’d also conjured comfortable leather boots and smoothed his hair into a sleek tail at the back of his neck.
He was done looking like a prisoner. If he wanted her to treat him as an equal, he should behave like the dragon she once knew in their youth.
Nyx was in her primal form again, as regal and imposing as the goddess she once pretended to be when humans cared about such things. This was no mere act, Gavra knew. This was simply her nature, and he was reminded once again why he’d never been worthy of her when a mortal satyr had been.
It took more than a god to match a goddess. Nereus possessed more honor in his little finger than most men, and most immortal males like Gavra relied on their power more than their conscience to justify their behavior. It had taken him falling in love with Nyx’s daughter to understand that. To love a woman was to be willing to sacrifice his own integrity for her sake. Even if he were half as honorable a man as Assana’s father had been, it wouldn’t come close to being worthy of her love. Hopefully Silas would make up the difference.
He stood inside his cage, silent and waiting patiently for her to address him first. She had an expectant glimmer in her eyes that intrigued him and gave him hope for a productive conversation. He assumed that’s all it would be again tonight, at any rate.
Nyx said nothing, however, and with a wave of her hand, the roots that bound the cage together slowly writhed and parted, leaving an opening in the wall large enough for him to walk through. On the other side, the Thiasoi guards took up positions in two lines that flanked the opening. Nyx stood at the end of the path … or was it a gauntlet? He suddenly couldn’t decide whether walking through would mean freedom or torture.
“Come join me for supper, Gavra. I have a need for more of your tales tonight. It seems they help me sleep.”
He held back a retort that he had other ways to help her sleep. If more stories about Nereus were what she wanted, he had many more to deliver. With any luck, he would be able to draw it out long enough to delay her plan and come up with a plan of his own to get through to her, or else to subdue her. He wasn’t picky.
Without hesitating another moment, he gave her a cocky smile and stepped outside his cage.
“My lady, all you had to do was ask. Nereus is nothing if not a perfect hero worthy of all the songs.”
He kept up the steady stream of narrative as they walked, regaling Nyx with a series of short anecdotes about her lost love. The entire way his skin itched with awareness of the automaton soldiers who escorted them. But the closer they came to the palace, the more his mind tuned in on Assana and Silas.
“Keep her away from the dining room tonight,” Gavra said to Silas as his only warning. He couldn’t be this close to Assana without worrying about her self-control.
“We are expected to dine with Nyx tonight, remember? She needs proof of our melding.”
Gavra silently cursed, but didn’t dare attempt another communication lest Nyx catch on that his attention was anywhere but fully on her.
“We all wanted you, you know,” Gavra said, returning to the thread of his story. “Well, my brothers were perhaps the exception, but I craved your attention, as did the Winds. We were sure you would choose between the five of us. We were so certain of this that we never even considered Nereus was already working to win you over. He wasn’t exactly hiding it, either. Would you believe we laughed at him when we found out? Zephyrus taunted him. He bet Nereus that he would have you on your back with your legs spread by the end of summer.”
“Zephyrus has no imagination,” Nyx said, her voice filled with mirth and remembrance. “I remember how hard he tried, too. You may have been able to satisfy me then, but Zephyrus and his brothers are better off sticking to the sky. What did Nereus say to his bet?”
“He only shook his head and smiled, like he knew some secret. I found out later that he’d spent several seasons carving out a secret grotto for you that would be private, yet let in the sea and sun. I’d finally realized he had something the rest of us were missing. Once I convinced him I had no designs on you myself, he confided in me. For a man so confident, he was still uncertain he could win you over, but I knew he would once I realized the lengths he’d gone to.”
“How were you so sure?” Nyx asked, leading him into the palace’s dining room. She filled two heavy glass goblets with sparkling wine and motioned for him to sit at her right while she took her spot at the head of the table.
“Because he had no guarantee of your acceptance, yet he still worked his hands bloody to create something beautiful for you. That was when I knew that, though he was mortal, he would bleed for you. He would risk his own life’s essence to make you happy.”
He would bleed for you. Gavra pursed his lips and stared into his goblet as he sat, an idea beginning to form in his mind that he was more inclined to reject than put any stock in. Blood couldn’t be the answer to their dilemma, could it?
“He did bleed for me, and I him,” Nyx said in a voice so soft Gavra almost didn’t hear her. When he glanced up at her with furrowed brows, her gaze was fixed into the distance, her eyes rimmed with unshed tears. She inhaled shakily and blinked several times. With a small smile, she turned to look at him.
“We were the last,” she said. “It was rare for a nymph and satyr to choose the blood melding ritual when they mated. Nymphs are capricious and get bored so easily, so most partnerships remain open. It was forbidden to perform the ritual if they couldn’t demonstrate true love and commitment to their mates. The connection it provides would be … confining … for a nymph who would rather flit between partners for a few centuries than commit to a single satyr. When I saw how he bled for me without asking anything in return, I knew there could be no other mate for me. No other male was worthy of fathering my children. I didn’t wait after that.”
A pair of petite nymphs in gauzy sunshine-colored dresses entered and began serving the first course. Gavra’s shoulders were rigid after Nyx’s confession, his mind on alert for the approach of his mates, who must be due any second. He could sense them somewhere nearby, but forced himself to maintain his focus on Nyx and their conversation.
“When did he first show you what he’d built?”
“He didn’t,” Nyx said with a shrug. “I wasn’t oblivious to him, or to the rest of you, believe it or not. Finding a mate wasn’t on my agenda. You could say I lived vicariously through my nymphs, and somewhat through my brother’s own dalliances. His grew boring after a time, and the nymphs’ tedious escapades only served to highlight how very different Nereus was. They flocked to him the way they flocked to you when you visited. Yet unlike you, he never indulged. Not once did I hear one of my nymphs bragging that she’d succeeded in bedding him. They would even band together in the hopes of seducing the elusive Nereus en masse, because surely where one failed, many would succeed.”
“Strength in numbers,” Gavra said with a chuckle. “It would have worked on me.”
Nyx smiled. “It always worked on yo
u. You were low-hanging fruit to them. They made more effort with your brothers, but had as little luck with them as they did with Nereus. What do you think that says about you, Gavra?”
“That I’m a giver?” he said with a wink.
That elicited a short laugh from her. “You haven’t changed. It’s so refreshing to find something constant in this world. Thank you for that.”
“I aim to please, as always. So was it their futile efforts that made you notice Nereus finally?”
“At first, I was concerned. I asked Neph if he thought there might be something wrong with Nereus. The two of them weren’t as close yet as they would become later, but Neph had more contact with the Thiasoi soldiers than I did, so he would know if one of his men were dysfunctional. The madness bleeds in sometimes where we least expect … I worried he might come to harm if he weren’t well and had to fight. A sexually suppressed male is a dangerous beast on the battlefield—as dangerous to his own side as to the opponent’s.”
“Neph wasn’t worried?”
“No. I didn’t believe him. I thought my brother was too distracted with his own pointless affair at the time.” A sharpness to her tone belied her bitterness where her brother’s “affair” was concerned. Gavra was all too aware that Neph’s distraction came in the form of a white dragon, and the reason the nymphs could never seduce Aodh was because their male leader had already succeeded in winning him wholeheartedly. His darker brother’s resistance to them, however, was a different story entirely.
Letting Nyx digress onto a tangent about his brother wouldn’t do him any good. Seeking to rein in the conversation, he said, “So what did you do?”
“I went looking for him. I was genuinely worried after I started hearing more rumors that he was frigid or unstable, or—Dion forbid—sterile or impotent. Satyrs aren’t that difficult to seduce, as a rule.”
“About as easy as a red dragon?” Gavra asked with a wry twist to his mouth, hoping to infuse a bit of humor back into the discussion. A pleasant shiver suddenly coursed over his skin when he heard a brief echo of Assana’s voice drawing near. It was all he could do not to crane his head around to look for her and Silas. He had to pretend Nyx was his sole focus.