by Xenia Melzer
Now the desert warriors had taken position in front of the three poles restraining Elgir and his unfortunate consorts. They didn’t have any weapons or instruments of torture with them, which was puzzling, since they had just promised unspeakable pain to those men. For a couple of heartbeats, nothing happened. Then a soft breeze passed Da’Ryen, and in it, he felt something terribly familiar, something that had no place here. A nightmare, born in the Hot Heart and usually confined within it. Slowly, the sand cyclone was building itself, the small, razor-sharp grains swarming around the desert warriors like angry hornets. Knowing the fate of Elgir, Da’Ryen wanted to look away, to spare himself the carnage of what was going to happen, but somehow he couldn’t. A perverted part of him wanted to see, wanted to witness the power that was about to be unleashed.
AEGID AND Kalad were standing at the center of the sand cyclone, forcing themselves to stay calm while the sharp grains sang to them how easily Elgir, Druran, and Drik could be vanquished from the face of Ana-Darasa. Daran had not yet told them what he had suffered at the hands of these dirty bastards, but what they had glimpsed and guessed so far made them seethe with rage. Only the prospect of repaying the affliction their precious lover had been forced to bear kept their emotions in check. Slowly, they allowed the sand to brush past the three men, scraping their clothes and chafing their skin every time the cyclone made a turn. There would be no quick, merciful death for the convicts. Aegid and Kalad were determined to drag this out as long as possible.
FROZEN IN terror, Da’Ryen listened to the shrieks and screams, to the whimpering and begging. What shocked him most was how long the bloody lumps of shredded skin and torn muscle tissue were still able to produce sound. It also made him realize how utterly the desert warriors had to love their mate—and how merciless they truly were. Perhaps it was because they had been with the divine brothers for so long that they were the least human of all the Emeris. When the screaming finally stopped and no spark of life could have possibly remained, the sand cyclone thickened, obscuring what was left of the bodies from view. One last time the grains whirled around in their deadly dance; then it was all gone as if it had never existed. The poles were bare; not even a shred of bone remained of the convicts, and the once gleaming chains looked battered and torn. Satisfied, the desert warriors retreated, taking up their position next to the braided man again.
Squaring his shoulders, the Echend’dim stepped forward. His bow toward the divine brothers was deeper and more sincere than the one Lord Kalad had given. A slight trembling in his voice indicated how inexperienced he was.
“My Lord Canubis, my Lord Renaldo, I thank you for allowing me to punish my tormentors personally. It is a great honor to be trusted like that.”
The Wolf of War nodded gravely, reassuring his Pack member with this simple gesture.
“It is our honor that you have decided to serve us as our first Echend’dim, Lord Daran. How can we deny you what is your right by the law?”
So the young man was special, just like Da’Ryen had guessed when he had seen the way his wounds had healed. No wonder the desert warriors were so upset. He had been against ambushing the caravan from the very beginning. It seemed as if his intuition had been dead-on. They had literally thrown stones into an already angry hornets’ nest.
Daran was walking toward the sisters, his right hand on the hilt of the dagger protruding from his leather belt. Like his clothes, the weapon was exquisitely made, a statement on its own. Unable to take his eyes off the strangely appealing young man, Da’Ryen watched as he drew the dagger.
ADRENALINE RUSHED through his bloodstream like a torrent as Daran approached the sisters. They were still wearing their silken robes, stained with his blood. By now, they reeked, a gut-wrenching stench of decay. As if the smell had somehow afflicted his senses, Daran slowed down, doubt entered his mind again. Made sensitive by their shared madness, the sisters lifted their heads in unison, throwing the Echend’dim feverish looks.
“Having second thoughts, little beauty? Or are you simply not up to killing?”
The mockery in their voices made Daran clench his teeth. With a flourish, he sheathed the dagger again, ignoring the intake of breath from the audience and the heated stares from his lovers. There was still one thing left to do, and he wouldn’t allow anybody to rush him. He would not kill if he wasn’t absolutely sure, and ending a life without its owner being able to fight back was a lot more difficult than killing on the battlefield. There it could be considered self-defense; the opponent had a fair chance, something that had been taken from the sisters.
Slowly, calmly, Daran took Arborja’s chin in his hand, staring directly into the void where other people might nurture a soul. It was right then that the epiphany hit him with all its might. Taking a life was a decision, just like everything else in life. It should not be made carelessly. It was his freedom and his duty, and above all, his right, not only as a member of the Pack but also as a servant to the gods of war, as the first of their Eternal Guard. The things he did for his gods had no need to be justified. They were right because they were done in the names of Canubis and Renaldo. His leaders were the most dangerous predators on Ana-Darasa and by choosing them, he had become one as well.
Daran felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He was finally free to embrace his true nature. At one with himself, he unsheathed the dagger again.
DA’RYEN FELT the hair on his back rise when the warrior drew out the weapon again, a smile on his lips. When he first approached the sisters, Daran had given the impression of someone in doubt, as if he didn’t really want to be there. Then suddenly something profound had changed, and it wasn’t only the young man. Da’Ryen could feel the shift in the course of the world itself, as if this single person had just changed the future of them all. On the surface, a reluctant servant had turned into a determined fighter, but on a deeper level, something even more arcane had happened, and judging from the smug expression on the Wolf of War’s face, he was fully aware of it.
Without hesitation, the first Echend’dim ripped out the heart of the older female, holding the still twitching organ high into the air while the blood trickled down his hands, smearing his face and expensive clothes. Like an afterthought, Daran tossed the heart to the alpha wolf, who devoured it with a satisfied growl to the background of the younger sister’s howling. She had slipped completely into madness, foam dripping from her mouth, her eyes rolled back until only the whites could be seen. In a matter of seconds, she followed her sister into death, her heart feeding the wolf again.
Slowly, deliberately, Daran cleaned the dagger on the robes of the corpses before he sheathed it. When he turned to face his gods again, he looked like revenge personified, the blood of his enemies clinging to him like a second skin. Under the canopy, the divine brothers had gotten up from their chairs, honoring the former thief with a bow. The First of the Eternal Guard had come into his own.
AFTER ALL the violence and emotions displayed, the execution of the robbers was almost anticlimactic, like an afterthought to something that had already been exhausted. Compared to the fate of Elgir, the pimps, and the sisters, they had merciful, quick deaths, their throats slit and the bodies fed to the wolves. Once the predators had started their meal, the crowd dispersed. An overseer came to fetch Da’Ryen and introduce him to his duties in the pits.
4. AFTERMATH
BACK IN his chambers, Sic fell heavily on a chair. The open display of violence had exhausted him to the point where he wasn’t able to feel anything anymore. He was vaguely aware of Noran busying himself with pouring two cups of wine, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn around. The master smith sat down next to his lover, offering him the wine. Sic took it with a sad smile, fully aware of the tension between them. Before the silence could become even more awkward, Sic started to talk.
“It was even worse than I thought. Although I do have to admit I’m glad Kalad and Aegid didn’t have their powers back then. It gives me the creeps.”
“Says the man who could kill us all with a single thought.”
“Please, don’t mention it. I really want to forget what I’m capable of.”
Noran pulled Sic into a tight embrace. His next words would lead him into uncharted, dangerous territory, and he was already prepared for rejection.
“Perhaps that’s the problem, my precious. You’re so scared of yourself, it taints everything else.”
Sic froze in his lover’s arms but, much to Noran’s delight, didn’t pull away.
“You’re right. Of course you’re right. And I know it. Still, I’m unable to fight it. And seeing what is becoming of us—I’m not only afraid of my own power. Even before I ascended to the rank of Emeris, I thought Lord Renaldo and Lord Canubis were terrifying. Now that they’re regaining all the talents they had lost, I’m paralyzed with fear.”
“You have to trust them. They are our gods, the leaders we have chosen and sworn to follow. There is no backing out now. Not anymore.”
Sic whimpered. “I know. And I could never betray them. I just wish I could be less confused.”
Noran hugged the young man even tighter. There was almost nothing he could do to help Sic except for being there and not letting their difficult past weigh him down even more.
WHEN DARAN finally returned to the chambers, Aegid and Kalad were already waiting for him. They were in their “predator mood,” as he secretly called it, their eyes shining with a hunger he loved and dreaded at the same time. Killing Daran’s kidnappers had aroused the desert warriors and made them restless.
Kalad extended a hand toward Daran. “Come here, Daran.” His voice was oddly gentle and in stark contrast to his agitated body language.
Daran obeyed immediately, already captivated by the intense mood. Aegid’s fingers brushed lightly over Daran’s cheek.
“You’re covered in blood.”
His voice sounded dreamy. Daran took Aegid’s hand into his own. He felt a strange thrill running through his body, a sensation he hadn’t known before.
“I’m going to wash right now.”
“No! We like it!”
Daran shuddered at those urgent, needy words. Kalad was standing behind him, sniffing his bloodstained clothes and skin.
“You smell of the blood of our enemies. It’s so erotic, I can hardly restrain myself.”
For the blink of an eye, Daran froze. This one sentence exposed what Kalad and Aegid really were; it showed their true, lethal nature. Only two days ago, he would have retreated from them in fear, but now he straightened his back and met their hungry, demanding gazes. This was what they were, and ultimately, this was what he was. His lovers had confronted him with their predatory nature only twice before, and each time Daran had been their helpless victim, only able to deal with the intensity of their assault because he had ignored the truth. Now he accepted and embraced it, knowing he would love them no matter who they were, what they did, or who they might become.
From the depths of his soul, his own predator reared its head and woke from its slumber. It greeted the other two with the same fierce gaze, challenging them to make the first move. Aegid’s answering grin threatened to cut his face in half.
“You’re beautiful, little thief, beautiful and irresistible.”
He wanted to pull Daran close, but the Echend’dim stopped him.
“Not today.”
A growl emanated from both men’s lips, their lust open and unveiled. Daran stood tall. He felt heady with newfound strength and wanted to test his power.
“Take your clothes off.”
For a moment he thought the two would punish him for his cheekiness, but when he held their gazes, unperturbed, they finally complied. It was strange, watching them get undressed while he was still fully clothed. Usually it was the other way round. When Aegid and Kalad were naked, Daran pointed with his chin toward the bed. Again they obeyed, watching him hungrily.
Daran took his time to feast on their perfectly sculpted bodies, to enjoy the sheen on Kalad’s dark skin, and to savor the whirling, endless tattoos on Aegid. While he was still engrossed in ogling them, he took off his own clothes without really noticing it. Daran’s erection stood out proudly in front of him. His lovers on the bed smiled, their own manhoods rising to the challenge.
Daran knelt between them, pushing each man down with one hand. While he was still restraining Kalad, he started kissing Aegid, licking the corners of his mouth, grazing with his teeth along the steely jawline and nipping at the tender skin at his neck. Aegid groaned under these playful ministrations. His hands reached out to close around Daran’s hips, but the Echend’dim stopped the motion.
“No. Today, you do as I say.”
A frustrated grunt was the answer. Aegid let his hands fall down on the bed again, shooting Daran feverish looks. Smiling, Daran bent down to kiss him on the mouth. For this, he had to let go of Kalad, who sat up immediately. Instead of commanding him down again, Daran guided Kalad toward his back.
“You can stimulate me while I’m busy with Aegid. You know what I like.”
Kalad’s eyes widened in shock, for Daran had never before spoken to him like that. Then a smile crept on his lips, and his erection hardened even more.
“As you wish, Daran. It’s my pleasure.”
Daran felt his own cock straining as well. He began to understand why Kalad and Aegid enjoyed subduing him so much. It felt incredibly good to have someone at his beck and call. He started kissing Aegid anew while Kalad busied himself at his back. Daran felt Kalad’s strong hands parting his asscheeks and inserting two fingers slick with oil to stretch him. In an attempt to tease Daran and regain some control, Kalad started licking Daran’s already twitching anus. He turned his head, shooting Kalad a poisonous look.
“If you don’t slow down right now, Aegid’s going to be the only one to get some loving today.”
Under Daran, Aegid began to chuckle, while Kalad pulled back in haste.
“Take your time. Search for my good spot, but only with your fingers. Once you find it, make me feel good.”
Kalad nodded and concentrated on Daran’s back again. It didn’t take him long to find the spot Daran had been talking about. Kalad rubbed it until Daran spilled with a content groan, his lips still fastened to Aegid’s. Daran broke contact only for a brief moment, directing another set of orders toward Kalad.
“Fuck me. Do it slowly, with long, deep thrusts.”
Panting heavily, Kalad complied. While he took Daran the way he liked it, the Echend’dim reached for Aegid’s erection and stroked it in the rhythm of Kalad’s thrusts. All three got lost in the game, prey to a lust that was new and exciting, if somewhat wary, for it marked a profound change in their relationship. They were no longer slave and masters; they had become equals all of a sudden, brothers-in-arms. Thinking about the deeper implications of this change was too much to bear at the moment, and so they sealed their still-growing love with carnal sex.
Kalad was the next to release, closely followed by Aegid and Daran. The air was heavy with their scents now, arousing them again almost instantly. Daran turned around, shifting slightly to allow Aegid’s still-hard cock to slide into him. He was facing Kalad, who knelt in front of him, waiting to be kissed and caressed like his desert brother. Daran smiled. He enjoyed this game immensely. Having the upper hand was indeed something to be desired. Extending his arm, he gave Kalad permission to come closer. Their lips met and Aegid started moving beneath him. Since he was so big, Daran had to hang on to Kalad to keep his balance. It didn’t take long until they reached the greatest heights again, drowning in the ecstasy only they could evoke in each other.
For the better part of the night Kalad and Aegid indulged Daran, doing his bidding even though he was already weakened by their games and, technically, no longer in a position to order them around. When he finally lost consciousness during one especially athletic act, Kalad and Aegid carried the limp Daran to the bath. They washed off the blood of the sisters still clingi
ng to his skin, as well as their own fluids plastering his body like very special markings. Daran didn’t wake up once, and so they brought him back to the bed and made themselves comfortable with their precious lover between them. Kalad looked thoughtful while his fingertips drew lazy circles on Daran’s chest.
“He’s grown into a fine man.”
“Indeed he has. Better than us, I’d say.”
There was a certain undertone in Aegid’s voice that aroused Kalad’s suspicion.
“You think we’re not good enough for him?”
“We love him more than anything else in the world. I doubt there will ever be somebody who feels deeper for him than we do, so we are good enough. Nevertheless, what he said before, about us being beasts, is not wrong. To call our actions questionable is serious downplaying. And if it weren’t for us, he would have never tasted this kind of life.”
Kalad frowned. There was just enough truth in Aegid’s words to make him uncomfortable.
“If it weren’t for us, he would be dead by now.”
The two warriors stared at each other over Daran’s sleeping form. Introspection had never been their strong point. Only since they had met Daran had they started to reflect on their actions a bit more. Love could be a real bugger sometimes.
“We would have never met him.”
Aegid’s voice trailed off. The implication alone was enough to make them both miserable. Kalad extended his chin with a determined expression. It wasn’t like them to ponder things that could not be changed.
“He’s ours. Our reward for being loyal servants to Canubis and Renaldo. Daran was born to spend his life wreathed in our love. Nothing is going to change that.”
Aegid grinned broadly. He liked what he heard.
“So we’re going to do it?”