Forgotten Fates

by S J Doran

  Pressed against his back, she could feel Gwynn’s chest rumble with a repressed growl, but no sound came out.

  “She has been promised to another as well, and if you do not heed her words, death will be breathing down your neck, young king.”

  Cass pulled her forward, forcing her out from behind the Huntsman’s back. His fingers were digging into her shoulders. “Listen to me Mara, whatever claim the god has on you, we will find a way to break it. I am not afraid of death.”

  Her fingers closed around his wrists, lifting his hands from her.

  “You may not be afraid, demon. But I am. If he takes you, he takes all I have left of him...”

  Cass reached out for her, “Mara…”

  “I have come to claim the blessing of Ostara.” Gwynn’s voice boomed through the large hall, drawing the attention of everyone in attendance before the rutting crowd exploded into cheers and praise at the announcement, knowing the climax of the celebration was at hand. Amara’s own shocked gaze moved from the Fae king to the altar laying in wait.

  “Gwynn, don’t do this.”

  “Namtar is watching Amara, set him on my path for he cannot harm me. You vowed to protect the demon, then stay true to your word and join me now.”

  “Mara, please don't... don’t accept.” Cass said brokenly.

  In that moment she wanted nothing more desperately than to take the sin-eater in her arms and kiss him until the look of hurt left his eyes. But doing so would not be mercy, only by leaving would she spare him.

  So instead of giving in she straightened her back, emptied her mind and forced herself to ignore the panic rising within her as she placed her hand into Gwynn’s extended one, the crowd inside the Inner Sanctum growing frenzied. Tonight, the goddess would surely offer her blessing, for the altar would finally have its sacrifice as the high priestess surrendered herself.

  With an agitated growl, Gwynn’s large hands closed around her waist before effortlessly flinging her over his shoulder and making way straight for the altar in the center of the temple.

  Moving up the steps she heard Namtar’s hiss. “Is this your choice then?”

  “Yes…” And she lamented it, because the demon would never forgive her for this betrayal. He had genuinely offered her his protection, and she had rejected him. The sin-eater was many things, but forgiving he was not. He would grow to hate her for the choice she had made.

  Good. Hate being the opposite of love, the demon would give no power to the death god. He would remain safe, and Amara would simply go back to watch over him from the shadows, until death came for her and the contract collected its due.

  “Have you lost your damn mind woman?” Gwynn spoke low, leaning over her.

  For as much as she respected and cared for the Dark Fae King, there was no love between them. He was cursed to love only one, and she had bound her heart to love only one.

  “I think I may have…” The hurt she felt was raw, the pain both ancient and new. Time failed to heal her wounds, instead it only seemed add more.

  As he climbed the steps leading up to the altar, the cheers and roars of the crowd followed them, chants filling the hall as he put her down upon the podium facing the hall.

  She turned her head, needing to find Cassius, only to feel strong fingers closed around her throat and clench tight. Behind her mask tears stung her eyes, to her shame she knew they weren't from his punishing grip. A dead heart was still capable of breaking, she was proof of that. She tried to speak, but couldn't, was struggling to hold back her a flow of tears as she was lifted onto the altar.

  “Think a stór. Clear your mind of the lust you feel for him.” Gwynn’s hypnotic gaze finally penetrated through to what rational thoughts remained.

  “There now, no tears. Your love and sacrifice keeps him safe.” His free hand trailed down to her waist, dragging her to the edge of the altar, his hips settled firmly between her legs. “Shall we end your celebration on a high note?”

  “A baby, Gwynn?” She forced herself to focus on that outrage rather than the pain, her claws extending and magic surfacing, ready to attack the Dark Fae with all she had upon release. “You made a compact to betroth yourself to an infant. Did you even spare me a moment of thought before deciding there was no future for us?”

  “I will do what needs to be done to see me free of my curse.” He watched his hands running up her legs.

  “Release me.” She snarled.

  He didn't release her. Instead, he moved his fingers up her legs to possessively cup her sex, his finger moving between her folds with a slow, maddening stroke, making her moan.

  White hot lightning shot through her system at his sudden touch, her body still on edge from Cassius’s caresses. To her shame her breath hitched, and her heart pounded against her ribcage.

  He sensed her response to him, his grip around her throat loosening ever so slightly at her body’s response to his familiar touch.

  A dark smile formed on his lips, his cheek pressed to hers as he whispered softly in her ear. “I can help you to forget him. You know this well. Surrender.”

  He moved to slide two fingers inside her as he spoke, spreading her for him.

  “Gwynn!”

  “Surrender and accept that he will never be yours.”

  Those words shattered what was left of the hold she had on her emotions. She lifted her leg and planted her foot into his chest, kicking him back before jumping off the altar, coming to stand directly before him, the tip of a tiny claw prodding into his chest.

  “There are many things I have to accept, Gwynn.” She gritted out, “but I do not have to accept you in my bed knowing you took away the right of a mere infant to choose her own destiny in this life.”

  She shoved him back, feeling a smug satisfaction at the sight of him falling back against the very altar he’d expected her to sacrifice her dignity on.

  Ostara, Namtar and guests from all over the realms watched, and she let them. For as she ripped off her mask, they would only see her fury.

  “As for me? I will not be made second, not by you, not by anyone…”

  Her body was strung out and aching with unmet needs, causing her legs to tremble the entire journey back to her rooms.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  fine, let's try a different way

  The surreal tableau of carnal lust in every depiction possible was a beautiful mockery of the worst sort. The juxtaposition of beauty and savagery, the rawness of lust unbridled was his comfort zone.

  Used to be.

  He took in the scene and realized that from the moment he stepped into the temple, he’d been detached him from this- the very thing he had been created for.

  Fuck and all he could smell was her. Could still taste her on his lips.

  She leaned back into the Huntsman, submission and sorrow filling her eyes, and he turned away.

  She’d made her choice.

  He wasn’t enough.

  His anguished roar trembled through the very foundations of the temple, betrayal and fury blazing through him. His own fucking memory, lying to him.

  If any of the things he remembered were true, she wouldn’t have denied him. He didn’t know what was true anymore.

  He tore open a crude portal, uncaring who was touched by the hell-flame, and stalked through to his own suite of rooms.

  He reeked of women, hands and face had been buried in them, his balls still ached from not finishing, but not as much as his chest was.

  She’d denied him.

  He stripped with angry, jerky motions and stepped into the shower, leaning forward onto his arms and just letting the water rain over him. Memories kept surfacing, floating up and rolling back into his mind before he could grasp them. Flashes of moments in time, tearing up emotions in their wake.

  Her eyes glowing from the dark. Her fingertips gently brushing tears from his cheeks. The feel of her outrage on his behalf- the only one who had ever felt that for him. Mara’s eyes… his ghost… Assat-shi… No.


  Lies.

  He wanted the priestess with an intensity he’d never felt, and couldn’t comprehend. He wasn’t meant to be with one female, it was against his very nature of being. Still.

  With a growl, he punched the slab of tile. Why? What was so wrong with him? He was a king in his own right. He was younger than the Dark King, but he was worthy- was he not?

  “You come in here like a thundercloud of misery,” Jez said from inside the bathroom. Cass hadn’t even heard him come in. “And now you’re sulking in the shower. Did something happen, Cass?” Jez walked around the tile wall and leaned, crossing his arms and waiting for an answer.

  “I’m not sulking.” Cass said, still facing the wall.

  “Well you aren’t in here washing.” Jez snarked back.

  Cass turned with a defiant glare, pouring shampoo into his hand, holding Jez’s gaze the entire time he slathered it into his hair.

  “Enjoying the view?” Cass said, arching a brow, smirking until the shampoo ran into his eye.

  “Fucking hells that burns.” He sputtered and spit as Jez chuckled and moved back to let Cass shower.

  He washed himself thoroughly, until no trace of her scent remained. Except in his memory. Damn it all. His mouth watered with the memory of how close he’d been…

  He grabbed a towel and ran it down his face and nearly bumped into Jez.

  “You couldn’t wait in the bedroom?” Cass glowered at him as he wrapped a towel around his waist.

  “I’m waiting to hear why you came back like a big aching cloud of gloom.” Jez looked him up and down slowly.

  Cass took a moment to collect himself, banking the power that threatened to erupt at the angel’s blatant perusal. He thought Jez wasn’t like that. That he had one person, at least, that didn’t look at him like that.

  He stepped forward with a slow measured step, walking forward until he was nearly pressing up against the angel, with Jez’s back to the wall.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” Cass placed a hand on the wall beside Jez’s head. “What do you want from me?” He rested his forehead on that hand.

  “I want you to stop gutting me with this pain you feel.” Jez bared his teeth, straightening and trying to pull back, his throat visibly moving as he swallowed. “I have my own…”

  Cass trailed his free hand down the angel’s chest, settling it at the waistband of his pants. The angel’s lust hit him with a blinding burst.

  “You’re certain that’s what you want, Jez’Piel?” Cass ran his hand down Jez’s rampant erection, his fingers gently cupping his balls and pulling them up as he brought his hand back up the length.

  “Stop. Cass,” Jez grabbed his hand. “Get a hold of your power.”

  Cass turned his face, so his lips touched Jez’s neck, his body aching with the pain of betrayal and need-

  “I can make you feel good, I need to,” Cass fumbled his hand free and worked open the button of Jez’s pants.

  With a roar of power, Jez pushed him back, reversing their positions, his hands pinning Cass’s shoulders to the wall, his chest heaving as his breaths sawed out. Cass’s own power flared to life in response, the angel pulling it all in, his eyes flaring up the same shade of blue that Cass’s pseudo-wings had been.

  “Sex is the last fucking thing you need, Cassius.” Jez shook him, knocking Cass’s head back against the wall. “Get your head straight. I’m trying to offer you comfort.” He groaned and rested his forehead against Cass’s. “It doesn’t always equate to sex.”

  Cass squeezed his eyes closed. “Why?”

  “You’re allowed to want something other than sex.” Jez said, pulling back. The angel’s eyes were full of compassion, sapping the last of Cass’s anger.

  He closed his eyes again and let his head fall back against the wall. “I was asking why you’d offer me comfort.”

  It was the last fucking thing he deserved.

  He’d lost count of how many times he’d indulged his lusts in front of the priestess. Now- he was remembering things. His mind was blurring her with his ghost- he’d felt a connection- he needed to understand.

  For once, all he wanted was for it to mean something to him.

  Then, enter the Huntsman. Fucking Dark Fae King laying claim to his priestess.

  “Come to bed. I can feel your exhaustion, even if you’re repressing it yourself.” Jez said quietly, as though sensing Cass’s rioting thoughts.

  He let Jez pull him out of the bathroom, holding his hand tight. He was exhausted. He hadn’t noticed it, but the angel was right. He’d been running on adrenaline for far too long now.

  Both stumbled to a stop at the sight of Leira splayed out on Cass’s bed, covered in scraps of sheer material like a delectable sensual feast.

  “Jez can you sleep in the other room tonight?” Cass whispered as he ran his hand down his face.

  Leira scrambled to sit up and pulled a blanket over her chest, an adorable flush across her cheeks.

  “You mean your future consort’s bedroom?” Jez said, pinching his mouth between his thumb and forefinger, trying to hide his grin. “Something you want to ask me, sweetheart?”

  Cass snorted, cracking an unexpected smile as he elbowed Jez in the side. “Fuck just go.”

  With a quick squeeze, Jez dropped his hand, walked over to the bed, stole a pillow and cockily sauntered through the door adjoining the bedrooms.

  Cass walked to the bed, watching Leira’s reactions. She tensed at his first step, then softened with his next, by the time he was beside the bed, she had dropped the blanket, confident in her feminine wiles.

  “You’ve returned.” Cass said as he crawled onto the bed, sitting up on his knees between her legs. Her face and chest were a nice rosy hue, the heat of her desire warming him.

  “I haven’t been very good to you, have I?” He placed a hand on her knee, eyes fixed at the shadow of her cleft.

  “You always make me feel good, my lord king.” She said with a sigh, dropping her knees to the side.

  “I have a name.” Cass said, trailing his hands down her inner thighs, pushing back the filmy nightgown that covered her.

  She smirked, and her silver eyes brightened, even as her lids lowered to shade them. “Cassius.”

  His breath caught as a pang hit his chest. His name on her sweet lips...too familiar. He didn’t want to be thinking of His ghost right now. Too much confusion, his brain refused to process.

  “You want me to take care of you, love?” He spoke the words, not worried about an answer as he lowered himself over her. He hooked his thumbs under the sides of her panties and pulled them off, then ran a fingertip down her folds, watching them swell and part for him.

  “Yes. Please.” Her breaths were already coming short, panting, her hips lifting toward his touch.

  With two fingers he spread her open, dipping inside of her to pull moisture up to her clit. He circled it slow, watching her body writhe with need. He felt her swell under his fingers and needed to feel it on his tongue.

  This was familiar. He sucked at her slowly, lapping up her need, his hands gripping her thighs, pinning her in place.

  Here he felt normal. Her hips pressed against his mouth.

  Here he was wanted.

  Her hands pulled at his hair, then tugged at his shoulders, trying to pull him up. He grinned against her wet heat, enjoying her desperate need for release.

  It was his name she was moaning. She was dripping wet, her sweet nectar flooding his tongue.

  All for him.

  At the first twitches of her orgasm, he stopped. She moaned loudly, her eyes flashing, and he pressed two fingers inside, swiping his other arm across his mouth. She was swollen with need, tight and throbbing around his fingers.

  “Am I still the only one...?” He whispered as he moved his body over hers, fingers slowly rubbing against her inner wall, stirring up her wetness, sensitizing her.

  “Yes. Yes, only you. Only ever you.” Her head whipped back and forth, her hips
rocking against his hand.

  He breathed a heartfelt sigh. She, at least, was his. She’d chosen him.

  He took out his fingers and plunged inside of her with one sure thrust.

  She screamed hoarsely, coming before he could even pull back to thrust again, her legs anchoring around his waist, keeping him buried deep as she jerkily rocked against him.

  He groaned, his legs shaking. “Yes, love.” He pushed her hips down and pulled back to thrust deeper, harder, chasing down the fucking release that he’d been denied earlier. “Fucking come all over me.” He needed to lose himself in it.

  She continued to make sexy, panting moans, her orgasm throbbing through her, clenching around his cock, sucking at him.

  With a low groan, he grabbed a fistful of her hair, kissing her roughly, tongue thrusting into her mouth with the same rhythm as his cock, his teeth scraping against her lips as he became frantic with need.

  Need to get lost in this. The oblivion of his climax- if only for a brief moment he could be free.

  Her little claws dug into his shoulders, tipping him over the edge.

  When his climax hit, he roared with it, getting up to his knees, grabbing her hips and thrusting so hard the bed rattled against the wall.

  He nearly collapsed onto her, his body spent.

  He lay his head against her chest, one hand still clasping her hip, still buried inside of her semi-erect. Sweat rolled off his forehead onto her collarbone and she giggled, swiping it away.

  With a grunt and a lot of exaggerated movements, he shifted to lay beside her, tucking her up to his chest and falling asleep from one breath to the next.

  He hadn’t even felt like he slept, when he woke, his heart pounding from the nightmare- or memory- a dull ache in his chest. Hurting. It was an actual physical ache.

  He looked over to the pretty Erinyes, sleeping peacefully, her wings all tucked up under her. He had nothing more to give her. He needed someone to give to him for a change.

  Without a word he eased out of bed, walking softly across the room, opening the door, shutting it quietly behind him. He snuck towards the bed and found Jez watching him with eyes gleaming in the dark.