Enthroned by Amethysts (A Dance with Destiny Book 3)

by JK Ensley

  “That look was priceless.” She bent over double with laughter, holding her tummy. “I shall have to record it to memory so I may have a good laugh one day when I feel like crying.” She wiped the happy tears from her eyes.

  “Aye, wee sister, ye lost me. I cannae see what’s so funny. Ye’ve been tae the sixth layer plenty of times. But if ye need tae go there, I’ll take ye when our summons is done.”

  She sighed and patted his arm, as if he were a small child. “Vittorio, sometimes I forget just how young you are.” She playfully winked at him as she used the words he had for her, so many times before. “Let me put it this way. I was curious if you could handle this mission on your own, little brother. If so, then I was going to head off to layer six and see all those valiant men for myself.” A wicked little smirk turned up one corner of her mouth. “It would be like a dream. Fearless men, donned in armor, glistening in the sun, sword drawn for battle, dripping with blood. Now, that would be a sight worth skipping all this for.” Her smile widened. “I can imagine their chests heaving from exhaustion, battle rage coursing through their veins, deliciously sweet sweat trickling over their rippling muscles.” She placed the back of her hand to her forehead and sighed dreamily. “Ahh, yes, I do believe I could do with a bit of that right about now.”

  Vittorio just stood there, dumbfounded, staring at her in disbelief.

  “What?” She feigned innocence.

  He grabbed her around the waist and pressed her up against a nearby tree. “Aye, mine Angel. Ye’ve all that an’ more, standing flesh before ye. There’s nae need tae leave this very spot tae have yer desires fulfilled.” He licked her neck and shuddered. “Ye spoke yer words as jest, wee maid. Yet I taste the want within ye.”

  The suddenness of the situation set the butterflies in her tummy to warring. Her heartbeat raced, her breath quickened then hitched. Vittorio didn’t miss a thing. Her reaction pushed him further.

  “Aye, did ye wish tae play, Lass?” He smiled. “I can play. I’m quite good at it, actually. I knew ye desired me. An’ now yer body screams oot the proof of it—trembling beneath my touch. Ye cannae hide, nae anymore.”

  The glint in his eye and the smirk upon his lips proved to accentuate the teasing nature of his dangerous play. He licked her once more and whispered in her ear.

  “All ye had tae do was but ask, fair maid. Admit yer desire for me. Speak the words from those sensual lips an’ I’ll spend day an’ night for all eternity wholly satisfying ye.” He smiled mischievously, gave her a quick wink, a peck on the cheek, released her, and turned to leave.

  Jenevier appeared in front of him, flames sparkling in her ethereal eyes. He stopped short to keep from running over her, almost toppling in the process. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed, pinning him against the same tree he’d only just used to tease her.

  “I’ve never denied my desire for you, Vittorio. I only deny the action, deny myself from acting upon said desire.”

  Lifted by her hovering wings, she lightly brushed her lips across his, tauntingly. He trembled. She pressed against him, placed a dainty kiss upon the corner of his mouth, lingering at the spot briefly. The other side received the same tender attention before she kissed him just a bit harder. Their racing heartbeats echoed like thunder through the forest. Jenevier moved as if she were going to kiss him once more, but stopped a fraction before they touched. Taking his bottom lip in her teeth, she gave it a tiny tug, barely a nibble. He moaned. Her mouth fell firm upon his, parting his delicious lips with her tongue. Vittorio was so rattled he forgot to breathe. She didn’t relinquish her vile power over this great warrior until she sensed his sweet surrender. She owned him and he wished it no other way. When he melted as a snowflake upon her warm skin, she released him and flashed a sultry smile.

  “Come. We have much work to do, Brother.”

  He grabbed a handful of her retreating curls, pulling her back against him.

  “Aye, Maiden, tell me. Where’d ye learn such evil as this? How is it ye play with fire an’ expect tae nae get burned?”

  She pointed to her one blue curl. “This is not all that remains of the devil I loved.”

  “Aye, an’ just who was it that taught my innocent lass tae behave thusly? Was it him? Was it yer devil? Who was the man tae put such wicked games in this lovely little head?”

  “Oh, well, yes, Vindicus, for the most part. But you can also thank your brother, Vareilious, for the fun part.”

  He wrapped his free arm around her, pulling her ever harder against his chest. “What did ye say? Tell me now, my love. Ye did such as this with Vareilious?”

  “Nay, Brother, loosen up. Just chill for a minute.”

  “Dunnae mimic his vile speech, maiden of my heart. I wish only tae hear my words drip from yer lips, wee lass.” He licked her ear. “Speak as I do, nae as he.”

  She giggled. “His is a rather crude language, is it not? Now, listen well, sweet warrior. He did not touch me, even as you just did.”

  Vittorio blushed at her honest words.

  “Vareilious and I, we fight together, we talk, and we share… perhaps too much. It’s too easy for me to fall in step with his actions, with his emotions. When he and I are together, we bring out the wicked in each other. Notice I said in each other, not with each other.”

  Vittorio only snorted into the mound of curls still firmly grasped within his massive hand.

  She smiled and rolled her eyes. “I enjoy it more than I should, I suppose. But certainly not as much as I want to, especially since my recent blending with my dark husband. Black pieces of him still rage within me, they always will.” She continued to chatter on. “Varick tries to limit our time together. Vareilious says it’s because we make his royal head hurt. But he doesn’t say it where Varick can hear. So, you caught me, Brother. I admit it. I like to play. Apologies. It’s a flaw I stepped out of hell with, it seems. But I’m not real keen on getting rid of it, not just yet.”

  She untangled his fingers from her hair and headed toward the waiting armored hoard.

  “Aye, Lass, remind me tae thank good old Vareilious upon our return.”

  “I will do no such thing.” She cut her eyes sideways at him. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

  He chuckled softly. “Aye, but do ye kiss an’ do other things?”

  “I do. But not this day, Brother.”

  Her words were cut off by the grating sound of her claws scraping across metal.

  They became separated during the hard fought battle. Vittorio liked to keep an eye on her, even though he knew full well she could handle herself. His fierce need to protect her never ebbed. Realizing he could no longer see her glittery blurring wings, he crashed through the surrounding adversaries with a maddening frenzy of desperate vehemence. His breath returned only after he caught sight of her—curls soaked in blood, felling men three times her size. Relief washed over him like a euphoric paradise.

  God, I love that wee Angel, he thought.

  Her claws proved little help against their polished steel. She could slice through it, yes, but not with enough speed and accuracy to comfortably keep up with their advancing numbers. So she started snapping necks and slicing off legs with her wings. Bloodier work, yes. Much more screaming, but gruesomely effective. Jenevier didn’t carry a physical sword, had never saw the need to add one to her arsenal. Besides, they always seemed to get in the way of her claws. And her priceless wings were more than adequate. She would cut with one while using the other as a shield against their barrage attacks.

  Always, she kept one eye on her treasured brother, taking note if he happened to be in trouble. Perhaps she was watching over him a bit too much that day, for she soon found herself completely surrounded by shiny metal men with sharp pointy blades. Doubling her efforts, she turned her attention back to her own hide.

  There were hundreds of them. They fought hard for many hours before the two tattered warriors were finally the last ones standing among a sea of their slain.

 
; Leaning upon his sword, panting from exhaustion, Vittorio remembered being wholly smitten by her bloodied, disheveled form as she placed her hands on the small of her back, stretching out her spine, arching her weary chest toward the heavens. He could hear the bones popping in her neck just as clearly as he had that day.

  “Why do ye resist me?” he had asked.

  She looked at him as she grabbed her left arm, pulling it across her body until the shoulder blade jerked back into place.

  “I cannot answer you, Brother. Not in truth.”

  “Aye, an’ why’s that, Lass?”

  “I know not, Vittorio. I’ve asked myself that exact same question many times.”

  “An’ ye’ve failed tae come up with an answer?”

  “I’ve failed to come up with an answer that satisfies me, yes.”

  “I’ve thought of naethin’ else since I confessed myself tae ye while ye lay in the grass of yer secret place, crying for yer lost husband, hurt by Varick’s jealous words. I’ve wished every moment since then, I hadnae shown ye the error of yer ways. Nae sent ye running back intae his arms. I was a fool. Alas, I did learn a few things, Princess. I know ye find me attractive. I know ye love me madly. I know the feel of my arms aboot ye calms yer heart, an’ sets it tae racing as well. What I dunnae know is why ye deny my passion; deny the truth living in yer heart. Yer nae bound, Milady, nae truly. Yer husband is forever gone, his manacle left with him. Ye dunnae love Varick as ye do me. Yer bound tae him through guilt an’ obligation only. Why cannae ye confess yer love for me an’ fall intae my arms? I wulnae hurt ye, an’ I cannae leave ye. Believe me, Lass. I’ve tried. I’m yer loving warrior for all eternity. Dunnae doubt that.”

  She smiled as she stared out over the littered battlefield. “It warms my heart when you say such things. I love you, Brother. With all there is to me… I love you.”

  “Aye, an’ I love ye more, my wee baby rabbit.”

  She giggled. “Why am I always a rabbit or a lamb?”

  “Aye now. Have ye ever seen anything as cute as a wee lamb on toddling legs, or a baby rabbit with its wee nose scrunching up like that? Nae. Naethin’ in the world can touch yer heart like those precious wee things can. Naethin’ but ye, Lass.”

  A painful knowledge choked her, tightened in her throat. No matter how badly she wanted this man, she could never have him. Fate denied their paths from joining. They would travel in the same direction, even cross occasionally, but never would they join. The truth of that lonely future caused his tender words to be as a vise upon her heart, a curse upon her soul.

  “I just think you love me too much, Brother,” she said through her smile.

  “Aye, that be the truth of it, yes.”

  She hadn’t the strength to meet his gaze when next she spoke. “Perhaps I don’t allow my heart a voice concerning you because… I fear our unbridled passion would burn down the heavens. Once released, it would be an uncontainable thing.”

  “Aye. That it would, Lass. That it would.”

  “In truth, I swore never to hurt Varick again. And I never shall. At least, not through purposeful intent.”

  “I knew that truth minus yer words.”

  She closed her eyes, sighing wearily. “You also know I no longer have a choice in this, Vittorio. As you say, I am bound. It may be guilt-ridden and obligatory, but it’s an obligation I will never ignore. I’ve accepted my Fate. Do both our souls a favor. Accept yours as well, Brother. Your glorious heart is too precious a thing to waste upon the likes of me. Give it to a real Princess, receive the love you deserve in return. Don’t play around with such folly as this.”

  “Aye, but all I want tae do is play, Lass.” He stood up straight, sheathing his stained sword. “Play with yer curls, lick yer soft body, cup yer sweet hips in my palms as we sway tae a tune only we can hear. Do ye have any idea how turned on I am right now? Gazing upon yer battle-weary form, that wee trickle of blood-tinged sweat sliding down yer luscious throat, defining the line of yer muscle there—ye’ve nae idea how badly I want ye.”

  The right side of her mouth turned up in a smile. “Yes, I do. I feel the same. My desire mirrors yours. Alas, it will pass. It’s only battle rage that heightens you so.”

  “Aye, that it does. But that’s nae the whole of it. Bloodlust is nae the only lust I feel.”

  “Perhaps not.” She wiped the drying blood from her sparkling wings on a dead man’s pants. “But that’ll be the end of it. Our words are done. I will not speak further with you concerning this.”

  “Aye, Princess, my mind wasnae on speaking.” He wrapped his perfect arms around her tiny waist, turning her to face him, lifting her up. “Ye dunnae have tae say a word. Moaning is acceptable… an’ perhaps the occasional scream.”

  She laughed. “Stop your play and put me down. I mean it, Vittorio. My words to you were not in jest, Brother.”

  “Why cannae we even speak of it, Jenevier? Our love is nae hidden from anyone. Every Vanir knows our feelings for each other. They may nae understand it, but they know it’s there. If we’re nae truly going tae act upon these feelings, then why cannae we at least speak on them?”

  She quit squirming in his arms. Her stillness only caused him to tighten his embrace. Her face was firm, serious when next she spoke.

  “I do not wish to speak openly with you about my raw desire to have you, to taste you, to feel you moving within me. Because I fear giving voice to these feelings will give permission as well. And that, my most beautiful of brothers, is a dark path we must always avoid… if we wish to steer clear of hell.”

  His heart had ceased pumping during her sensual sermon, he could barely draw breath.

  “Ye wish tae feel me moving within ye?” His voice was thick and raspy.

  “Of course I do. Who doesn’t wish to feel that with someone they love? And this is exactly what I was talking about. Had my dark desires been withheld from your ears, you wouldn’t be thinking as you are now.”

  “Aye, Milady, I always think this way aboot ye.”

  “Perhaps so, but my words were fuel to your flame.”

  “Aye, that they were. I burn with a fire that cannae be quenched by another. For ye, I will gladly burn for all time.”

  Vittorio laid his head upon her chest, tightening his grip about her waist and breathing in her intoxicating scent. He smiled when she ran her fingers into his hair.

  “You know how much I love you,” she whispered. “That’s all that matters.”

  “Aye… perhaps.” He tickled her ribs then. “An’ perhaps in a couple thousand years or so, ye’ll weaken just enough tae allow me… entrance,” he said as he released her, playfully popping her on the bottom for emphasis.

  She snorted and cast him a sideways glance. “…Pervert,” she said, then winked.

  He chuckled. “Aye, an’ that be the truth of it.”

  She laughed and teasingly punched his hard stomach in retaliation for the swat across her backside. “Well, I guess you can never be too sure about the future. Who knows, right? Perhaps… I mean… in a couple thousand years.” She kissed his cheek. “We shall see.”

  *****

  Vittorio blinked the tears away and took a deep breath, trying to shake off the blissful memory of that day. Honking horns reminded him he was yet in Detroit. Italy was many miles from here, and that was a different time.

  He grunted out a small chuckle. Aye… an exceptionally delicious poison, he thought as he entered the clouds, leaving layer eight behind, but taking his memories with him.

  Chapter 17

  Musashi

  (moo-SAH-shee)

  “What did you do to Master Mikage?” Musashi’s words weren’t harsh, but his tone left no doubt. He expected an answer.

  Jenevier bit her lip. The only thought running through her mind was how this imposing man would look, headless, slumped upon the floor, blood pooling around his silent form.

  The Emperor of Jinn wasn’t just a large man, he was lethal as well. His broad shoulders and th
in waist made him deceptively graceful, elegant looking. Alas, there was no grace or elegance in his heart. This she knew.

  Vittorio and Varick had both mentioned this man by name many times before. The way his skill seemed almost inhuman, how regret was a word he knew not, a red sea of blood always following in his wake. Musashi was a terrifying enigma, to men and Guardians alike.

  She kept a close watch on his reflection in the giant looking glass as he advanced into her prison suite. She took note of how he would cut his eyes toward her, but never for more than a fleeting breath. He was cool, distant. She read murder plainly within his thoughts. But it was twisted with doubt, muddled by indecision. He wanted her dead, yet feared that reality above all things.

  She determined madness to be his true affliction.

  Mad people often prove to be the most fun. But this man, his psychosis is dark, icy. Ugh, why must I always be forced to deal with the mad ones? It seems they flock to me. Madness and malevolence… my constant companions.

  “Did you not hear me, Milady? What could a tiny little thing like you have possibly done to shake a mighty ninja master?”

  I want his summons… I want his summons… I want his summons… I want my wings… I want my wings… I want my wings. Her internal mantra continued, right along with her cold silence and heated glare.

  He moved closer. “I must admit. I had you pictured in my mind as being a great deal larger, a much more ferocious creature. Your lovely presence has taken me by surprise.”

  His deliberate, intentionally heavy steps echoed eerily in the room. They seemed to shout at her, torturously dragging words through her soul. Dark words, terrifying words, words that shouldn’t creep into the mind of a fierce Warrior of God. They filled her with a language akin to: vacant… abandoned… solitary… friendless… alone… bleak… tiny… hopeless.

  “You are no Dragon, Milady.” He chuckled softly. “In my mind, you had giant wings and breathed fire through your nostrils. In reality, you’re more comparable to a sparrow—petite, fragile, so delicate and lovely. I was prepared to face a Dragon. I know not how to treat a tiny bird.”