Realms of Fantasy

by Mychael Black

  Alael shuddered suddenly, eyes locking onto Lev’s then widening. “Lev!”

  Lev watched the changing expression of surprise, pleasure and surrender in Alael’s face as the demon shook beneath him in his release. It was what he craved from his demon. Even as his body quickened its rhythm, Lev’s mind dwelt on those two words, and he whispered them softly, “My demon.”

  He closed his eyes. A sudden hard driving force held his body captive to the demon’s as his own release swept through him. When Lev started to relax from the intensity, a depthless well of emotions surged through Lev to flood Alael.

  Alael rocked beneath him, chanting Lev’s name. Clinging to Lev, the demon trembled, shocked to the core. Despite his dark heart, his undoing had been at the hands of an angel.

  “Do you even understand what is between us, Alael?”

  Blinking up at him, Alael nodded. “I have no words for it, but I can’t deny the peace my soul feels.”

  Content the demon understood, Lev rested his head on Alael's shoulder. The twin rhythms of their beings twined as one, binding them as one soul in two bodies. As it was always meant to be.

  Chapter One

  “He must be destroyed!” Chancellor Brahm slammed both hands onto the dark wooden table, the sound thundering throughout the cavernous room. “He is dangerous, out of control!”

  “Irael is not to be destroyed.” All eyes shifted to the man standing in the doorway, his own gaze pale but sharp. He strode into the room, ignoring the whispers.

  Chancellor Brahm looked him up and down. “And you are?”

  “Adon,” the man said simply. He came to a stop a few feet from the massive round table that dominated the room.

  “Adon is…” Lord Eralin looked at the others before continuing, “…the Commander of the Chaos Order.”

  The chancellor’s eyes widened and he dropped into his seat. “I thought they were a myth,” he muttered.

  Lord Eralin snorted. “Hardly. They are simply covert in their operations, Chancellor, but I assure you they are very much real.”

  “Yes, I see.” Chancellor Brahm took in the commander’s form. Skin the color of ebony stretched taut over a muscular frame. Adon's hair, white as a virgin’s robes, was pulled back, and his eyes… Sweet gods, the dark angel’s eyes were mesmerizing. Dangerous. Brahm swallowed hard, resisted the urge to lick his lips. Here was beauty and death encased in black flesh.

  “Chancellor Brahm.” That voice—commanding even at rest. “I have experience in dealing with Irael. I will gladly bring him under control.”

  Brahm could only nod, gaze riveted to the tap of one long finger on the vicious whip coiled at the Commander’s left hip. “Yes.”

  A hooded gaze swept over the marbled hall before it settled on one particular individual. Irael gestured for Mian to come closer.

  The bone raven near the angel momentarily paused in its voracious feasting, its wickedly curved beak gleaming with blood. Irael ran his hand over the black feathers on its head as he watched Mian scuttle toward him.

  “Where is our entertainment, Mian? I expect them to arrive soon to amuse my guests.”

  Mian threw himself prostrate on the floor. “They will be here. I promise.” Daring to lift his head, he added, “The Naal are outside the gates, rounding up the denizens.”

  “For your sake, I hope they return, and soon.”

  Mian stared at the deceptively fragile beauty of the man sitting regally in his chair. All knew, despite his fair, angelic appearance, the blackest heart beat within the breast of their god.

  Like an answer to the darkest prayer, the throne room doors opened and the Naal marched in, misshapen hands clutching arms and legs, dragging some of the less enthusiastic participants across the black stone floor. Many screamed, flailing wildly, desperation setting in when expectant, hungry growls met their cries.

  Mian let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He kept his gaze riveted to the spectacle before them, allowing the slightest bit of gratitude to seep out in a sigh of relief.

  The beasts grew hungrier, waiting impatiently to be fed. One of the Ektih tried repeatedly to break free and get to the crowd outside its cage. The flap of its leathery red wings beat against the barrier and its long beak snapped as if trying to cut through what held it.

  A small wave of Irael’s hand expanded the confines of the individual cages, making them one. As he nodded, his Naal began tossing in their captives.

  Men and women alike screamed, their faces twisted in masks of horror as they prepared to fight for their lives within the cages. The beasts didn’t outright attack. Most preferred their prey still breathing. They enjoyed the hunt. There was nowhere to hide as each beast chose its meal for the evening.

  When the first Ektih made its catch, the crowd roared its approval. Thunderous applause filled the room as the beast’s beak broke through its victim’s skull, the long tongue siphoning the brain matter out as the man convulsed beneath it.

  Mian swallowed hard, barely able to stop the trembling. Though he was one of Irael’s personal servants, he was still a lesser revenant. If he displeased his god, this too would be his fate.

  All around the hall circling the cages, his guests straightened in their seats in avid appreciation of the treat they were witnessing.

  One of the Naal dragged his captive up the steps of the massive platform where a priest waited to sacrifice the woman for the pleasure of their god.

  When one of the hapless victims narrowly escaped the snapping jaws of an Astas, the crowd cheered as wildly as they had when a ferocious Sitil devoured one of the prisoners. Amused by the spectacle, Irael motioned for one of the Naal to throw the man a spear.

  The man scrambled for the weapon and held it at length, the determination to survive fierce in his expression. When the Astas lunged for him, the man caught it and impaled the sinewy body on the weapon. The crowd cheered for him as he shoved the beast away.

  Rather impressed despite the original intention he’d had for the fellow, Irael watched the untrained but effective fighter. As a Staras began stalking the young man, Irael straightened in his chair, curious to see what they both would do.

  Warily, the man danced around the beast twice his height, barely missing the lash of its black tail. As it moved closer, he jabbed at it with the spear, catching the tip against the beast's muzzle. An enraged roar filled the room, blending with the screams of the dying.

  Not expecting its meal to fight, the Staras reared on its hind legs to intimidate its prey. A quick thrust from the spear drew more blood. Furious, the beast crashed down, trapping the man beneath it. Lowering its snout, the Staras revealed dual rows of razor-sharp teeth. It seemed as if the beast was smiling. Then it snapped, severing the man’s head from his shoulders with the sheer force of its bite.

  With the last of the victims dying, the crowd began to lull, returning to their feast. Eventually the Naal dragged the remaining captives out of the throne room toward the dungeons. The beasts feasted as well, devouring their meals in the cages.

  The heavy weight of Irael’s gaze fell on his servant, Mian, as he came into the room. His steps seemed to slow until he threw himself on the floor in front of Irael.

  “What is it now, Mian?” Irael regarded him with little favor. He knew damn well that whatever Mian had to tell him, he didn’t want to hear.

  Keeping his forehead to the hard marble, Mian mumbled, “My god, there is someone in the outer chamber wanting to see you.”

  “And who someone would that be?”

  Before Mian could answer, the doors of the throne room opened. Mian let out a terrified squeak, scurrying out of the way as the visitor started toward the dais. Although he was concealed beneath a black robe with a deep hood, it was clear from the stature alone that this visitor was a man. When he reached the dais, he stopped, but did not bow.

  “You are under investigation by the Chaos Order,” the man said simply, not removing his hood.

  “And this impress
es me how?” Irael shot a dark look at Mian. He wasn’t pleased with his servant’s behavior. Rising from his throne, Irael drawled, “Mian, I suggest you make yourself absent before I feed you to Brmol.”

  As Mian hastily vacated the room, the beady gaze of the bone raven followed him.

  “Irael, you have been charged with cruelty, torture, and murder. If I find any evidence of such during my stay here, you will be brought before the Universal Council to face trial and sentence.” The man swept back his hood. “And they won’t be as gentle on you as I am.”

  “I am to expect gentleness from you, Adon? Have you changed that greatly?” Amused, Irael stilled in front of him. “And exactly what kind of evidence are you looking for? Murder not sanctioned by the Council? You’ll probably find plenty of that here.”

  “I do not recall an ounce of complaint when my whip tasted your flesh,” Adon whispered as he began circling Irael. “Tell me, Irael. Do you still bear my marks?”

  Stepping back abruptly, Irael hissed out a warning. “What has that to do with your investigation? If the Council has just complaint, the cowards need to face me themselves.”

  “I am the Council,” Adon snarled. “And you did not answer my question. Have you forgotten your place so quickly, pup?”

  Irael’s wings outstretched in a threatening stance as he stood his ground. His normally short nails began to lengthen, resembling razor sharp talons. “Since you don’t seem to recall, I had no place to forget, Adon.”

  The robe fell to the floor and black-feathered wings spread out. Adon’s smile was anything but warm. “You have forgotten.” He tapped the coiled whip, the smile turning sinister. “Perhaps a reminder is in order.”

  It required every ounce of will Irael had to stop himself from reacting to the sight of his former master. Bristling in agitation, he refused to fall to his knees. Instead he turned his back on Adon and approached his throne. “Nothing is in order, Adon. If you haven’t noticed, it never has been.”

  In a split second, the snap of Adon’s whip reverberated throughout the throne room. It coiled around Irael’s throat and, with a hard jerk, Adon had Irael’s back against him.

  “You never learn, pup.”

  Growling sharply with the pain, Irael tore at the leather strap, trying to get it off his throat. Slashing at his own skin, his sharp talons cut deep into his flesh. “Back off, Adon!”

  Adon’s forked tongue traced the curve of Irael’s ear. “You’ve not changed,” he whispered. “You still crave this.” Another snap of his wrist and the whip left Irael’s throat, moving as if the leather were a living thing, retreating to Adon’s hand.

  Bleeding from his self-inflicted wounds, Irael refused to react by either word or action. Focusing a minute amount of energy, he began to heal himself.

  Adon tipped Irael’s head and licked the blood from the side of his neck. Growling low, he said, “I expect my chambers to be ready at once and will take my meals there. I will sit in on your sessions.”

  Biting hard at his lower lip only drew more blood. Irael clenched his hands into fists at his sides. “It will be done, Adon.”

  “Very good.” Adon released him and stepped back.

  Slowly turning to face him, Irael narrowed his eyes. “I would prefer that those in the Council who have a problem with me face me personally. I already know that’s not likely since they are cowards. Or have you been gone so long from them that you don’t see it all for what it is?”

  Adon snaked an arm around Irael’s waist and pulled him close, his lips just a breath from Irael’s. “The Council matters nothing to me. Do you really think that is my only reason for being here?”

  Even wanting to find the energy to break away was damn near impossible. Why did Adon still affect him? Shielding his expression, Irael let nothing of his thoughts show. “Why else would you be here?”

  “To reclaim what is mine.” Without giving Irael a chance to answer, Adon captured him in an enslaving kiss, forcing his tongue into Irael’s mouth.

  Without thought, Irael opened to Adon and the familiar longing spread like wild fire through him. Adon's kisses had been so rare when they’d been together, but Irael had never forgotten the feel or taste. His knees threatened to buckle as the forked tongue devoured him.

  Adon pulled back slowly, licking Irael’s lips. “I expect you in my chambers immediately.” With that, he stepped around Irael to follow Mian out of the room.

  Irael’s first preservative instinct was to disobey the order as he watched Adon walk away. Yet the movement of Adon’s body fascinated him. The dark angel wore only tight pants and a leather harness strapped across his chest and back, leaving little to the imagination. Catching himself, Irael frowned heavily as the door closed, cutting off his view.

  Irael went to his own private rooms, arguing vehemently with himself. He neither wanted nor needed the complication Adon brought back into his life.

  Duty had meant everything to Adon, and Irael doubted that had changed. Duty had taken Adon from him the last time and left Irael under the “protection” of the Council. That had degenerated to nothing more than being treated as the basest creature in existence until he’d escaped and forcefully carved out his own life on this planet. He already knew none of the Council would have dared tell Adon the truth.

  Even the vast space of his rooms made Irael near claustrophobic, and his mind gave him no peace. With a determined stride, he headed toward the tower stairs, climbing them to the roof. Stepping out, he stared at the vast expanse of sky and dragged in a refreshing breath. Near the ledge, he sat on the stone, legs dangling over the edge as his gaze swept the landscape. Cruel he might be at times, but it was a necessity that stopped criminals from preying on the weak. When he’d arrived on this planet, the people didn’t even have the rudiments of education. Yet under his guidance, three cities had risen.

  Those were things Irael would never bother explaining. He knew the truth and had little care for others’ accusations. Of course, he didn’t have the Council’s permission to do any of this and he paid them no allegiance.

  “You did not come.”

  Irael didn’t even turn to look at him. “Did you really expect me to, Adon? You’re not my master anymore.”

  “Why did you leave? I came back for you, but the Council told me you’d left.” Adon brushed Irael's hair from his neck, following with a kiss as soft as a whisper.

  “I left because I had to.” Thankfully he didn’t shiver beneath the drifting touch. Irael couldn’t hide the underlying bitterness, no matter how hard he tried, and it seeped into his words. “And now you are here because they sent you to deal with me. How like them.”

  “They didn’t send me.” Gripping Irael’s chin, Adon turned Irael’s head to face him. “I interrupted the Council when I received word they were planning your destruction. I gave them no choice in the matter.”

  Irael plastered a blank look on his features. “Destroy me? For what? Cruelty without their permission?” Surprised by Adon’s admission, Irael allowed a bit of a smile to crack through the façade. “How like you to force the matter on them. I should have known.”

  “I’ve spent three hundred years looking for you,” Adon whispered, thumb sliding over Irael’s lips. “I’ve lost you.” For the briefest moment, sadness flickered in his eyes before Adon blinked it away. He released Irael reluctantly and stood to walk away.

  Chapter Two

  Instantly confused, Irael slowly turned to face him. “Why would it even matter to you, Adon? Duty always mattered more to you, and just as you should, you’ve always done your duty.”

  Adon stopped, his back to Irael. “I learned long ago what was important. I told them I would bring you under control, under the condition of my leave from service.”

  “Leave? Why would you leave?” Though surprised, Irael still viewed Adon with a great deal of suspicion. The angel had always been a creature of the Order. Adon lived and breathed for it. Nothing had ever stood in the way of devotion and duty
.

  Adon walked to the opposite side of the tower roof and leaned against the stone crenellation. “I left for you.”

  “For me? Forgive me if I sound disbelieving, Adon, but after all this time, it’s rather hard to believe.”

  Adon spun around and rushed Irael, jerked him to his feet and slammed him back against the tower wall, Irael’s shirt fisted in his hands. “Hard to believe?” he snapped. “I’ve not slept since we separated! I’ve had no peace, Irael. Every breath I take is infused with your scent, every morsel of food tastes like your body, your blood, every thought is invaded with memories of you. I came here without the intention of leaving!”

  Irael's voice rose as well. “You left because you were ordered to do so! I had nothing to do with it. Since you are not leaving, you are here to rule my world for the Council. Is that it, Adon? I have no hope of fighting you. You could kill me easily. The war would be over before it even started.”

  “I came here because I love you!”

  That silenced Irael as he tried to decipher the truth for himself. For a long moment he didn’t say anything. What meaning could he take from the words? Irael wasn’t sure anymore, though he desperately wanted to believe Adon. “I trusted you once before until everything turned to ashes around me. I was nothing to the ones you left me with.”

  Adon released him and turned away. “I thought you would be safe,” he said quietly. “I trusted them to keep you safe. No one would tell me anything other than that you had left.”

  “They hated me because they thought I weakened you. Didn’t they tell you I destroyed their precious temple after they tried to have me killed? I was and always will be a threat to them.” Irael headed for the door to return to his chambers.

  “They told me nothing.” Adon met Irael’s gaze before Irael stepped through the door.