Bound By Blood

by C. H. Scarlett

  “It’s not true. I earned this. I gave up so much. I sacrificed so much. You’re only being bitter, Staphãyn. You have become so very bitter.” She told him that, truly believing it.

  He had not been the same since his mother died. He swore he would never be the same.

  “Let me heal you of your pain, Staphãyn. Let me take away the hurt. I can do that for you. I can ease your heart and mind.” She reached out for him, but he yanked himself away from her.

  “My pain is the only thing that reminds me I am still living. It reminds me of why it is I suffer. So I do not forget and become as silly as you.” He never once sounded angry. His voice never rose. It only showed his misery. “You have such big dreams. You have always been this way, always thinking you can save the world. Maybe you were born to that destiny but we will never know. Dĩas will never allow you to know unless you free yourself from his cage-- unless you free your mind and see past the illusions.”

  He knew he caused her great mystification and he knew he caused her great pain on a night which she’d deemed so wonderful. Tears filled her sparkling eyes but he’d thought it was only concerning what he said, when in reality she cried for him. She felt herself losing him, which meant she was losing a part of herself, too.

  He wrapped his arms around her from behind. He lowered his head so he could whisper into her ear. “Don’t worry, my silly little Vii. One night you will no longer be chained to the fears they give to you. You will see our world for what it is and one night you may even break the cage and fly. But will you know the means which will give you that kind of power? Will you recognize the form your freedom takes? Will you recognize the eyes that promise it? Will you take his hand and know him by name? Will you trust in yourself?”

  Thunder rumbled above as Samanthŕa’s awareness shattered away from her memory. It was a memory she’d forgotten until now. Staphãyn’s words haunted her and she cursed herself for not remembering them sooner.

  The wind began to blow and a soft voice was carried with it. “Underneath the willow, remember the willow?”

  She heard Staphãyn’s last request as lightning splintered the air above. She thought he had been trying to make her remember the times they shared when they were children. Children…

  “Left some-something for you. Willow. Remember why I call you silly Vii?”

  “I remember!” Samanthŕa cried as she began to search the Willow tree. She remembered a large hole at the bottom of its base. Fresh dirt had been moved away from it. Stones had been stacked to hide it. She threw them aside and started to dig until her hands hit something hard. She smoothed the dirt away from around it and pulled it out. It was the small golden flask with Staphãyn’s initials. Her hands trembled to open it while rain beat viciously against her body. A scroll was inside. She covered it with her cloak as she ran deeper beneath the branches to open it. It read:

  My Dearest Sister,

  If you are reading this then I have passed on. Shed no tears for me. I regret nothing in my life, except the times I made you cry. Still, I had my reasons although they were painful. I was bound by Dĩas’ powers. I was bound to silence.

  Yet if you’re reading this, then I am dead. And if I am dead then there is nothing more to keep me silent. There is nothing more to keep you chained.

  We are older than we think, Samanthŕa, and our memories have been distorted and stolen. Dias is not your father but your guardian. You were given to him to protect, to look after, until you were old enough to take your rightful place beside the one you refuse to trust now, Daŕēus.

  It was he who gave you life with the aid of the Great Goddess. It was he who took you from his own soul, giving you shape, form, and purpose. Oh sweet sister you were blessed that wondrous night. The Goddess smiled down upon you as well as the keepers of the ancient world. There was not one who did not look upon you with love. There was not one who didn’t give you the breath of their gift. In truth, the ones who encircled you then are your parents and your parents are numerous. The Goddess, your true mother, fashioned you from and with Daŕēus. She then placed you within Chymeŕah’s womb, who loved you no less, if not more.

  You have spent your life fearing, spent your life trying to protect your sisters. You have spent your life living an illusion. Do not fear Evil’s prophecies, for the Goddess has one of her own and you, sister, always find a way, always, but you must be strong in order to find it. You must awaken. Only then will you remember…see past the illusion.

  Go now and think of me often, for that which remains alive in our hearts, lives forever. Have faith that we will meet again, because sister, nothing is ever truly lost from you. Not you. Remember, you always seem to find it whether you’re looking or not. Remember and embrace your Awakener my dearest sister, for I give you his name now, Daŕēus Dracuŕa.

  Eternally,

  Staphãyn

  The rain became heavier and the spring began to rise. Lightning fractured above repeatedly as if possessed. Samanthŕa tucked the letter in her bodice as tears streamed down her face. Thunder raised its might above her when the lightning drove its severed veins into the Willow tree. She dodged the falling limbs as she started to run. The wind whipped the brutal rain against her back. Another purge of lightning and flame sizzled and smoked.

  Samanthŕa turned around quickly, stopping dead in her tracks. Underneath the rain, rising in mist and smoke, was a transparent Staphãyn, smiling. His hand reached up and waved, causing her to almost run to him. One step forward and the entire tree came down. She should have cried out and normally she would have, but seeing him happy, just seeing him, gave her a smile. It gave her hope.

  She turned slowly, unconcerned with the weather and misted away this time, having no need to look back. Instead, she looked forward with one thought on her mind-- find Daŕēus.

  ~Chapter 19~

  Blood of my Blood

  ***

  Blood of my blood,

  Flesh of my flesh,

  Reflection of my truest desires,

  Take this hand which offers you nothing less,

  Than the eternal flame of a lover’s everlasting fire.

  Hold sacred the flame,

  Which will never be tamed,

  For you are my soul’s purest light.

  Bathe me in your embrace,

  Bind me with your mystical lace.

  For you and only you are the beacon in my night.

  ***

  The night continued to flow like turbulent waters across an ocean of stormy sky. Daŕēus attempted, once again, to enter his chamber, pausing first as he opened the door, fearing something would come crashing down upon his head. He had attempted many times to retire this night but there was always something demanding his attention. That became a struggle in itself, focusing on others when he had his mind on Samanthŕa.

  She had withdrawn from him since Staphãyn’s death and he wasn’t quite sure if he could blame her. Her world had literally exploded with colossal change since the night he'd returned, or maybe the change was already there . . . his return simply opened her eyes to it. Remembering each and every time he'd seen her, she seemed breakable, not that her eyes ever once acknowledged him since the debacle in the court of Dias. She had become that way with everyone really, so he knew not to take it personally, but it still haunted him.

  It also haunted him the way she ignored him earlier this night when they gave Staphãyn’s body back to the Goddess. She would not stand with him, nor any other. She even ignored him when he offered his hand to lead her home, his home, or Chymeŕah’s. Yet she refused and left him standing there as if he were nothing more than a ghost. Anyone else who attempted to gain her attention by calling her name, she ignored as well. Her mind was suffocating under the loss of Staphãyn. Daŕēus could feel every ounce of it.

  Realizing that no one else was in the hall, he crept inside, shutting his door and taking a deep breath in the dark calm of his chamber. His eyes opened once he realized he wasn’t alone. That sensation
of someone else was rushing over him. He looked around and to his surprise, even shock, Samanthŕa lay by the fire, sleeping. He knew she had to be exhausted. She hadn’t slept much since he returned. Her world was turned completely upside down and her new hunger tormented her. It took a lot of energy to burn through the moods and emotions that she was suffering. The energy she needed had not been received. It must be pure anguish for her. She had never experienced anything like the loss of her brother and if Daŕēus had not failed her, she would not have experienced it now. That’s how he felt, that he had failed her. How could he feel otherwise?

  The room was dim as the fire was its only source of light. He locked the door quietly and sat in a chair before her. He watched her body peacefully rise and fall with every sweet breath she took. He watched the soft golden glow of the fire shimmer across her smooth skin. Her hair fell behind her across the many pillows she snuggled against. It spilled like silk to the stone floor.

  He wasn’t sure how long he sat there watching her dream but he knew it was long enough for a crippling hurt to build inside his broken heart. A silent pain spread across his soul for all the centuries he’d been cursed to suffer without her. A tear swelled up in his eye but then faded like mist before it escaped. For she had never known him as he knew of her; he watched her throughout her life, maturing into what she was now, before and even after the curse.

  She was to be his and was a part of his soul. He had trusted Dĩas and Chymeŕah to watch over her. He even planned on being in her life, every night for all nights to come. She would grow to know who he was and what he was to her. She would grow to know what she meant to him, which was everything.

  But he was robbed of that, betrayed by Dĩas for whatever his pathetic reasons might be. He was forced to suffer a curse which was forbidden to be used, by the old ways and laws of his people.

  The Sleep of the Damned, he growled inside his mind. Forced to sleep but not know the comfort of peace or rest, wrapped in chains that continuously robbed him of power. Trapped between day and night, imprisoned to the realm of Gray, all those years suffering imperishable hunger. All those years being nothing more than a ghost in her mind, until the time came that she unknowingly released him. Thanks to the Goddess that Chymeŕah discovered Dĩas’ potions and herbs, as well as his senseless reasons. She also utilized the small period of time Samanthŕa stopped taking them right before Beal-Tene. The power her mother invoked fanned the flame of Samanthŕa’s inner desire to awaken, and combining with the power that Beal-Tene brought, stimulating rebirth, here he was.

  “It is almost time, Beloved, almost time.” He repeated the words he’d used as he haunted her dreams. “No force on this earth can prevent me from finding you. We will be one again. Watch for the signs. Fear not the unknown. A storm is coming. It is time.” He whispered just as he did that night, “Awaken.”

  And just like that night, her eyes opened, as if his energy awoke her, just as it had many times before. In her beautifully divine eyes, the soft silver-blue light focused. She yawned, stretched, possibly realizing where she was.

  Would she attack him? He wondered as she wiped the sleepiness from the eyes he had been admiring.

  Would she go willingly into this night or force herself madly into her destruction?

  He had asked himself that same question every night since his return. He wondered, would she ever give into her natural instincts or would she still claim it was his blood and its raw power over her. Would she accept the truth even if she herself did not realize it?

  Let it be willingly, for his night did suffer so without the light of her, he prayed to the Goddess.

  Samanthŕa surprised him. Instead of a swing or venomous curse, she leaned forward, the furs falling, revealing the naked truth of her, as she took his large hand with both of hers. A slight nervousness trembled in her tiny palms. She pulled him gently down beside her, even though next to her he looked like the universe itself, so large and powerful. She let go of his hand. She waved her own across his eyes without touching him. She was removing the veil from his face, removing any illusion if there was one. This was a gesture lost to the old ways, and yet somehow she was doing it. It meant, or so her open mind spoke clearly to him, that if she was wrong in the decision she was about to make, it would be seen now, clearly.

  "There is no veil over me." He whispered, unable to read anything else. Still, he held no secrets from her and wanted it known. Not in this realm or any other.

  Nodding, she leaned forward, her actions literally shocking him, almost touching his lips. She took in a deep breath, allowing his mind to enter and merge with hers again. All of her walls tumbled down into crashing heaps of nothingness. She was inhaling his aura into herself.

  Truly catching him off guard, she whispered, “Awaken me.”

  That was all she needed to say. It was as though she burst open the dam holding back the oceans and released them freely to flood his world. With the blessing of those two words, he rose to greet her, pulling her into his arms-- arms that were large and powerful enough to crush her, yet she'd know nothing of that, only a giant gentleness.

  His need for her exploded within him as his clothes were by a silent wave of power caused to evaporate, disappear. He took her mouth with his. Her eyes sparkled with twilight. Her body began to melt into his.

  His lips traced the sleek curves of her breasts down to the smoothness of her belly. His tongue followed, led by instinct to her secret place. There he found the most succulent ambrosia he ever imagined tasting. His method sent pulses throughout her body. He sent all thoughts and fears away from her. Her mind simply faded against the soft waves of his bestowed ecstasy. Every touch of his burned, and ignited her senses. Every touch, though new, somehow felt so familiar.

  His driving hunger screamed for him to relight the flame in their hearts. He pulled her up and against him, driving his virility deep inside her. The pulsating charge of it enflamed her mind and engulfed her. Through her, he felt this.

  And with that, the force of this massive steed brought forth the quickening. The colors and lights from within their bodies soared throughout the room. The friction of their magic, souls, and powers were alive, intertwined and invoking the spirit of their souls as one.

  It was their love taking shape and form, the power of their passions, untamed, and unleashed. It was the driving force screaming and springing to life with her Awakening. She felt, he felt, her beast inside open its eyes and yawn at the miracle of life, coming more alive with each caress, every sensation, every bite, kiss or taste of her.

  The more she felt, the more he felt too, as their energy and emotions, the sensations of their bodies, passed from one to the other. This was the bewitching of twin souls. This was the pleasure of their kind, for the male could not experience euphoria unless it was first channeled through his mate.

  His large hands moved easily over her body, remembering every curve and soft tender place. She took deep breaths as he moved in and out of her, as if the sandalwood scent of him was as precious as air.

  The colors, still swirling, removed the physical reality of the room itself. The walls faded as they both reached the peak of their love, changing into the true universe around them. Friction came from their bodies rubbing up against one another. Energy, from the quickening sensations she sent through him and him through her, caused lightning to strike, stars to fall and to be born.

  He caught her face in his hands and focused her glazed eyes on his, asking now to be clear and certain.

  “Are you ready? Is this what you want?” He felt himself ready to explode. He could not withdraw now even if she said no, but a part of him needed to be sure. The hunger was overpowering him and the thought of turning back, unimaginable. He had his memories, but she was on unfamiliar ground. Or was she at this point?

  She nodded, his thrusts melting into her. “Yes,” she said, with want and desire in her voice. “Make me one with you.”

  It was all she needed to say. Until then he
had been holding back so as to not suffocate her with his inconceivable power. He pulled her even closer so that her neck was grazing his lips and whispered into her ear. She felt the power explode from his voice and imprison her entire body. Her breath was lost again but she welcomed this!

  “I, Daŕēus, call upon my blood,

  Ancient and powerful--

  Awaken you.

  By my blood,

  Blood of my blood,

  The blood we are bound,

  I bind you to me,

  Rejoin our souls,

  And make us one.”

  The words seemed simple, but the charms and destiny they invoked were fantasy in flight. His teeth bite gently into her neck, his saliva numbing her so that she felt no pain but immediate release. Their bodies filled up with fire, as if a thousand pleasures infiltrated them at once. Her nails gripped into his flesh, as a flush of bliss washed over their minds. At its greatest intensity, which seemed to last forever, she felt, he felt, as if the Great Mother was within her and as if the universe and all its wonders lived inside her. Yet instead of a fleeting release, they clung to her awareness, lasting for what seemed like an eternity.

  He felt himself liberated inside her as her blood kept moving warmly like a flame down his throat. His muscles drew up all over his body; his release offered no mercy. He forced himself to withdraw from her blood, the feelings still overcoming him. With blurred eyes, pulsating with fire and ice, he brought her gaze unto his. Foreheads touching, he called to her, so sweet her name was. He called to her soul as a pure white light engulfed them both.

  She felt his power pull against her, move through her and possess her. Her body relaxed beneath his.

  “Bound to me, Beloved,