Calliope's Wings

by Guin Archer

  His men watched us avidly, their faces trained onto me, and I had déjà vu of my first experiences in the Udon. It got better over time, but it was still unnerving as hell having that many eyes solely focused on me.

  Instead of setting me down onto my feet like I thought he would, Vorch pivoted – still palming my ass – and marched back to his quarters. The crew and him erupted into that two-toned, bestial language the Zikta prescribed to. I couldn’t translate their garbled barks and growls any more than I could the Zikta’s.

  Fuck. Back to bed for the baby.

  Feeling a hair petulant, I snapped my wings out wide and held them stiff like I might’ve locked my hands around the doorjamb. Vorch was forced to stop outright or lose his grip on me. His angry growl was back.

  “Drop Your wings, Calliope.”

  Hmm…let me think about that…

  Nope!

  His hand clapped my ass with a solid, painful crack and I shrieked from it. My shock made my wings tuck in so he could drag me the rest of the way out of open day and into the not-so-dank captain’s quarters. The same males that’d run at his heels entered after us. I could see the smirks playing at the corners of their mouths at my squawk and squirming.

  Assholes.

  “Put me down! Right now!”

  My demand was met instantly. I was flipped and tossed in the same motion. I crashed onto the padded surface of the chair he’d vacated earlier. My wings slipped between the backrest and arms, which had a break in them seemingly designed for the purpose of fitting my new appendages. The throne in Granzee made a whole lot more sense now.

  Vorch stepped up behind me and the chair and locked his hands onto my shoulders to keep me pinned. It was a struggle not to cross my arms over my chest like a chastised kid.

  “Innintani Calliope,” the albino beast began gruffly, “I would like to introduce You to the Irah of Drydan’s Sea. They are my commanding los’kah. They aid me in leading our city. Irah, this is Innintani Calliope. Now that you have seen Her, return to your ships. Tell the Tyk’rok they will see Her with their own eyes once She is settled. No sooner.”

  “Yes, Vorch.”

  The males bowed to me, offering brief introductions with their names before saying something to Vorch and then walking back out. The room was still suffocating with their absences. Probably because Vorch sucked all the air out just existing.

  “You are a naughty biis’a, my sweet,” he grumbled while massaging my shoulders. I didn’t want to admit it, but his touch was lovely. I sunk back into the chair and enjoyed his skilled ministrations. My wings drooped and turned to mist, not hampering my slouch or making it uncomfortable.

  “Mmm,” I hummed in agreement.

  A single knock at the door was followed immediately by a loaded tray of food being carried into the room. It was a female doing so, her body decked out in leathers and decorative baubles. She looked as much like a pirate as the others did. My dress was the only airy garment for seeming miles.

  She smiled wide at me before bobbing her head, tittering, and hurrying off after setting the tray onto the desk.

  “That was Lenira.” Vorch prowled around me to perch his ass on the corner of the desk. He used a finger to turn the tray by its handle closer to me. “She does not speak. She makes sounds, but has not spoken word of any tongue since her banishment from her tribe. She declined to mate with a los’kah her sire promised her to, and he did not take kindly to her refusal.”

  Poor girl.

  “We are the Tyk’rok. The ‘exiles’.”

  Well, shit.

  Looking up his bulk even as I picked a biscuit up with my fingers, I could tell immediately why he was one of the exiled. His appearance was as damning for him as it’d been for me. He would’ve had it worse than me, though, in some ways. I mean, who could hide horns like his? Unless he sawed them off or he could shed them like deer shed their antlers, I didn’t think he could hide them.

  One of his hands found my cheek so he could stroke it with the backs of his fingers.

  “You are precious to me, Calliope. Do not worry me as You did moments ago.”

  “How am I precious to you? We do not know each other.”

  “I am Your Muir.” I choked on a flake of the pastry, earning a couple forceful smacks to my back from the horned Captain. My eyes watered as I blinked up at him in bemusement. His grin was back and as smarmy as ever. “You doubt me, my sweet?”

  “How do you know you are Muir?” My lips thinned and I put my food down. I didn’t need to choke again.

  “The same as You are Innintani. It is written on my soul.” He rolled a finger in a distinctly ‘continue’ gesture. I figured he meant for me to finish eating. As if I could eat with this new revelation. So, I shoved the tray away and earned a censorious glare for my actions. “Eat.”

  “I have not had an enjoyable past with the last Muir who claimed he was mine.” I gritted my teeth even as I slapped his hand to keep him from bringing the tray back to me. He didn’t so much as flinch at my forceful smacks. “There is also the issue of you thinking I am your Pasha. I am not. I have Dorai in the Udon.”

  “This I know. You have been gone for seasons, Innintani. Your Visivi is not faring well without You.”

  “S-seasons?” Was that my voice? All squeaky and horrified? I slumped even more into the chair and goggled up at Vorch. “I have been gone for…seasons?”

  “Yes, Calliope, You have.” His tone dropped to a tender croon that wormed its way unerringly into my cracking heart. Seasons…that meant I was dead for months. Anything could’ve happened while I was gone, not the least including the killing of my slaves so they could ‘join’ me in the afterlife.

  Gorge lifted in my throat and I felt it burn there. I clawed my hand over my mouth to keep everything contained. Tears built in my eyes.

  “Hush, my sweet Calliope. There is nothing You could have done in these matters. Breathe, Biis’a.” The male hit his knees next to my chair and wound his massive arms around me to hug me in support. His bullring and flat nose nuzzled my temple and cheek. “Do not let it overtake You. Calm. Breathe.”

  Months! I’d been dead for fucking months!

  When things started to get a little black around the edges of my vision, I knew I was hyperventilating. Vorch pulled me out of the chair to cuddle me more fully. I didn’t have the wherewithal to struggle. It took everything I had to get my breathing back under control.

  Color me surprised – not – but the sky beyond the windows had taken a nosedive into ominous cloud cover and lightning. The ship at least didn’t get tousled too roughly by the waves I knew had to have been breaking against the hull. Instead, it was just dark with flashes of angry light to match my shitty shift in mood.

  Doggedly, I was ferried back to being able to breathe fully again. I was curled up in Vorch’s lap with my wings cocooning us both. They were so huge that they even swallowed the Tauren’s seated form. We were in a cozy world of psychedelic light, mist, and unearthly warmth. The only time either of us caught a view out the windows was when they fluttered and ‘dissolved’ before reforming into solid masses.

  “There is nothing You can change, my sweet. The past is behind us. You must move forward.” He swallowed thickly before nudging his lips to my brow. “With me,” was added almost sheepishly.

  “No,” I snapped, opening my wings and jetting off his lap. My hands were shaky as I brought them up to my neck. I was looking for my bakal and serah when they weren’t there to fiddle with anymore. I ended up nearly strangling myself instead. “M-my Dorai are in the Udon. My Visivi. They need me.”

  “I need You.” He was on his feet and looming over me in an instant. His crimson eyes were a little manic. “You cannot leave me. Not now that I finally have You with me. I have waited too long.”

  “What do you mean you ‘have waited too long’? You saved me only last lune!”

  “Do You think I am unknowing? That I am unworthy of You?” He charged me, backing me up into the wal
l of built-ins and books. I rasped out a harsh exhale when his front pressed up against mine, pinning me. His hands fisted the shelves by my head. “I have followed Your trail for winters now. Your first life here, I knew. No other of Your Visivi could know You as well as I. Your every breath has been mine. It slaughtered me every time Your life would fade away before I could get to You. I was always too late.”

  “Y-you…you…” I fumbled for my words in all languages. My mind was reeling along with my heart. Vorch didn’t let me struggle for long, his earnestness washing through in his proceeding speech.

  “Your Drake protects Your body. Your Xerbai tends to Your heart. Your Muir knows Your mind. You must know that I have known You since Your first rising. I have dreamt of Your misery and Your pain. I have lived it as my own. I have hunted for You for many, many winters, my Innintani. Always, though, I have been too late to bring You into my arms.

  “I would take Your pain if I could. I would destroy this world for what it has done to You, precious one, if I could.” He reached down to take my deformed hand in his and rubbed my remaining knuckles against his tusk-strained lips. His breath was shuddering against my skin. “This one…this los’kah I would have slain had You not. I was two sols journey from Blackburhn when the Udon rode upon it. I was so close to having You then, my sweet. So close.”

  I don’t know what amazed me more; the fact that he’d been two days away from rescuing me from Mathai or the realization that he was fully aware of my sordid past on Intau. He knew about the torture I’d suffered. He’d seen it all.

  The bile was back in my throat.

  “No,” he snarled at me when I started to turn my head away. He grasped my chin, hard, and made me look back at him. His face was locked in stern reprimand and wholehearted caring. It stole the air right out of my lungs and suppressed my urge to throw up. “You do not get to hide from me. You are mine, Calliope, my sweet Innintani. Mine to cherish until the One calls us all home once more. Your suffering is my burden to bear, not Yours. Me and Your other los’kah.”

  Something about the way he sneered about my other males rankled. Then, understanding dawned. He was jealous!

  Oh shit.

  Seeming to read my mind, Vorch let out his own sigh. He backed away, but he reeled me with him. I gave him a half-assed fight. My heart wasn’t in it with so many revelations. I had a niggling suspicion, too, that he wasn’t done yet.

  He parked his sizable ass onto the edge of the bed before tugging me to stand between his knees. He stroked his palms up and down my sides while I braced my hands on his wide shoulders. My wings automatically curled in once more to embrace us both. The windows were to one side, the door to the other. It was an oddly intimate moment.

  Moreso when he buried his face into my cleavage.

  “Your Drake…he is Kor, Tohtahk of the Udon.” Statement, not question, so I kept mum. “He is my brago’s offspring.”

  Ooh. Drama drama drama.

  Thoughts of his age hit me broadside. If I’d thought Kor old enough to be my daddy, this male would’ve been old enough to be my grandpa. Shiiiit!

  “You are with exiles. Were you…?” I couldn’t bring myself to finish. I already knew the answer to that question. My eyes found his horns.

  His answering smile was sardonic at best; brittle at worst. He was hurt by his past probably as much as I was by mine, though in different ways.

  “These are my shame to bear.” One of his hands left me to scratch his claws against the ivory – maybe – of the left one. It made an awful sound like nails on a chalkboard. I shackled his wrist to stop his brutalizing of himself. “They were markers of the worst of Tauren. The old tribes bore them. The tribes of los’kah who shunned the One. For me to have them…I am seen as bishtak.”

  “I think they are beautiful,” I admitted quietly. I did, too. Frightening, but stunning. Like looking at a dangerous, wild cat. He was like majestic, chimeric lion.

  “You are beautiful,” he returned huskily. I felt my cheeks heat with a blush.

  “Why do you not live on Luintak?”

  “I was to be Tohtahk. I was first-born of Otimi. I was first accepted by Mahzri. I received first Skol. I was Muir!” By his last declaration, he was all but shouting. He was beyond fired up. His crimson eyes seemed to burn with internal flames. His dagger-teeth and tusks gnashed. “My brago…he turned the Udon against me. He claimed I raped his Pasha while we collected namintak.”

  “Oh, Vorch, I am sorry.”

  I didn’t know the male well. He may have seen my plight at the hands of my many abusers while I was entirely unaware of him, but I felt I could trust him. I felt I knew him. Some deeply buried instinct told me he would never force himself on a woman, let alone the female that belonged to his brother.

  “I have not ventured into the Udon since I was banished. My brago is dead, this I know. May his soul rot in the darkest pits of Saluumotu.” He spit air when he snarled this. “His offspring…I have no wish to see this los’kah. The blood of my blood.”

  “He is my Drake. My Dorai.” I breathed in deeply, defending the male I’d once thought I hated. It felt strange to be coming to his rescue, especially after the way he left me the last time. “He…has my heart. My Xerbai, Ruune, as well. I must return to them.”

  “You will not leave me,” he growled out, his hands tightening on my hips where they’d come to rest. His idly stroking thumbs froze over my navel.

  “Then you come with me.” I squeezed his shoulders. “You come or you do not, it makes no difference. I must go to them. I have been…gone too long.”

  “Indeed.” He grunted and looked away out the window. His teeth ground. “Your Drake has turned villages to ash. He is a maddened beast. Word of his loss of our Innintani and of his mind travels farther than the screams of the dying.”

  “No,” was my whisper of disbelief and horror.

  Vorch met my eyes solemnly. “Only Mel’lau is spared; or so I hear. The Tyk’rok still must trade with Luintak for goods. The port cities are bracing for the Tohtahk’s charge against them. It is only a matter of time.”

  “Why would he do something like that?”

  “My sweet,” Vorch cooed down to me, his heavy brow lowering as he assessed me. Our foreheads met. “I cannot blame him for doing as I would. I have the honor of knowing You will return to me. He does not. If his Taytani and Pasha is no longer by his side, he sees no reason for the rest of the lands to remain alive. They exist for You and with no You, there is no them.”

  That was fucking insane. Not a little nuts, but an entire fucking mountain range of kookoo.

  Who the fuck destroyed the world because their lover died?

  That shit sounded almost romantic – in a psychopathic kind of way – in erotic romance novels. I’d read my fair share of them. Still, that was fiction. That wasn’t real life!

  “Be still,” Vorch hushed me when I started struggling again. He bumped our foreheads hard enough that I felt a little dizzy from the hit. “He is focused on the Ohmber and those that aid them for now. He has not struck down many of the innocent.”

  But he has done it, I thought angrily. These were lives we were talking about, not a fucking ant farm that a pissy brat decided to pour a glass of water on.

  “I must leave for the Udon. Now.”

  “No.” His refusal was barked viciously. Too bad I felt just as heated. My wings turned scalding against his back and he lunged into me, a string of creative curses in several languages spitting out of his mouth as he did so.

  “Ekt, Biis’a!” He tackled me to the ground and used my own arms to shield himself against my wings as he kept me pinned beneath him. “Not now, You bloodthirsty creature! We will leave at solbreak. Until then, You must rest. Regain Your strength.”

  Goddamn fuckin’…

  “Fine!” My snap was in English and I accompanied it with a brutal jab of my knee to his crotch. No affect, of course, since his family jewels were tucked up safe inside him. Still, it made me feel bette
r to make the cheap shot.

  Vorch scowled darkly.

  “What is this word? ‘Fine’.” His lips garbled the single syllable and he sneered at the sound he made. “I do not like this word. It tells me something is wrong when I think You try to say something is right. Do not use it again.”

  Fuck…did this guy just figure out the infamous ‘fine’ in two seconds flat when human men have struggled with it for lifetimes?

  Vorch – one. Every other human schmuck – zip.

  “Get off of me,” I hissed instead of indulging him with a retort to his command. I kneed his not-there junk again.

  His sneer morphed into a wicked grin. He lowered his pelvis so it brushed mine and I felt the telltale poke of his kii coming out to see me.

  “I am hurt, my sweet. Do you not enjoy my weight over You?”

  Pervert!

  I wriggled a wing out from under us and clipped one of his horns with it. His body catapulted off mine in a blur of color.

  “Serves you right, you decrepit pig!”

  He smiled around a bloody upper lip. One of his tusks must’ve punctured the skin.

  “What is ‘decrepit pig’? If it is a compliment, I take it graciously. If it is not, allow me to change Your mind of me.”

  Lord save me from this lech.

  …and, please, help me to save my Udon and the men I love.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Pulling a cloak on wasn’t helping me hide so much anymore.

  I shucked the damn thing and stretched my wings out, instantly feeling the relief of not having them semi-confined under the heavy weight of the cloak. It hadn’t done much, anyway. My wings were each longer than Vorch was tall and, even tucked in, they were bulky and made me look like the world’s first hybrid of a humpback whale and a half-Tauren female.

  Vorch’s deep chuckle irked me from where he stood to my back. The stubborn fuck wouldn’t leave me alone for a second. Not since my teensy little jaunt through the air and up the ship’s mast three days ago.

  I, apparently, wasn’t to be trusted.

  “Why are you dressed like that?” I gestured for his own bundled-up form and curbed my scowl to something a little nicer…I hoped. I didn’t like seeing him as concealed as he was in ankle-to-wrist clothing. He was hiding. He even wore gloves on his clawed hands. His own cloak was billowing behind him, the hood a monstrously big thing I knew he’d end up draping over his head to hide his horns.