Impure

by Kenna Bardot

  "Well, that's a surprise. That was one thing I didn't really think was common - having kids with other humans here. But you seem proof positive it's done. So, if you have family here, why is it you're not living with them?"

  "I asked for my own rooms, even for just a little bit. I wanted to experience things as someone like you would. You know? Have as much freedom and independence I can realistically get here in Godsvail."

  "Well, I wonder why your mother would put you with someone like me then? She hasn't told you but I'm one of those who don't like the Gods or their Descendants." I shook out the folded uniform to examine it. I shook my head when I realized that they gave even cleaning girls' outfits that revealed them to the extent that we looked like whores.

  Sluts.

  Just the way the Gods wanted.

  "Are you?" She cocked her head at me. "Maybe she hoped I could change you? She's very strict with her children. We grew up a certain way and believe certain things. But you needn't worry. I'm affable enough. You do what you want to do, think what you want to think."

  "Thanks," I said on a sigh of relief. I didn't know what I would do if I had to spend my days and nights with a person I could hardly tolerate.

  "So, you said you wanted to learn about my family and my village, right?"

  "Right!" she enthused and had me beaming a smile as my hand crept into my pocket to grasp a small plastic green toy.

  "Okay then. Well, I live in Wintercairn, which is to the North…."

  ✽✽✽

  I wiped the sweat off my brow, adding it to the grime that covered my arms. How a place that was cleaned regularly could be so disgusting was beyond me.

  But it was.

  The answer? The Descendants were slobs.

  They lived in such a beautiful place and treated it like a broken shack in the woods for all they cared.

  Not that it came as a surprise. What did one have to care about the messes they made when they were waited on hand and foot?

  Mostly, it had been a quiet week of settling into the routine of my new life. The Descendants kept their distance, though that was certainly made easier by my night shifts and day sleeping. There was a brief window where they might see me in the evening or the morning as the servants pulled longer shifts than most Descendants slept, but aside from the short potential for interactions I went about my days in relative peace.

  For the night, my shift had ended. I gathered my products onto the cart, standing and starting to make my way to the supply room at the end of the hall.

  I passed one human going to work in the kitchen during her day shift. I recognized her vaguely in passing, and it impressed me that every time I saw her, the white of her own uniform was immaculate. Even by the end of her shift, there was never a single stain on it. I continued to be grateful that my own was brown, given that I would have been entirely incapable of keeping it clean.

  I smiled, saying "hello," as we passed one another.

  She spun to look back at me, a small group of her friends stepping into the hall from the back doors to the kitchen. "You shouldn't speak to me."

  "Excuse me?" I asked, crossing arms over my chest and blinking at her.

  "You're a cleaner." She raised her nose regally, as if being a kitchen servant was so great. "Fresh meat. Remember your place. You need to work your way up to speaking to people like us."

  "I need to work to speak to my kind?" Her friends nodded behind her, looking entirely too comfortable in their clean dresses.

  I snorted in disgust, completely blown away by how brainwashed they all were with the status quo. "You're so desperate to fuck a God that you'd turn your back on your own people." My voice was a whisper, my mouth tilting into a smirk.

  "I've already fucked Descendants who went on to be Gods." She grinned at me, so proud of letting them use her body.

  I shrugged. "They must not have liked it very much, since none of them took you for their own, did they?"

  The smile fell from her face.

  That must have been a sore spot.

  Woops.

  "You stupid Northern bitch!" she shrieked, lunging for me. Flinching back with a laugh, I chuckled as her friends wrapped their arms around her and tugged her back.

  "You strut around like we're all beneath you. Do you really think you're the first to come here with some superiority complex?" one of her friends asked.

  The original kitchen girl struggled against her friends' hold, and I turned somber eyes to the new one who spoke so sadly. "Of course not."

  "They'll break you. They always do." She sighed. "You'd be wise not to fight it."

  "I've never been very smart," I admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. At least not where my mouth was concerned.

  She shook her head, releasing her friend so suddenly that when she slammed into me, we both went sprawling to the floor. The hand that slapped my face woke me up from the shock, and I snatched it from the air before it could connect a second time.

  "Get off me." I grimaced. I wasn't one for physical violence, had never had the inclination. In my experience, words were a much more effective weapon. But I wouldn't be someone's punching bag either.

  "Fuck you," she snarled out. My fist connected with her face, blood spurting from the cut that formed on her lip. Shaking my hand out, I winced from the pain in my knuckles where her stupid fucking teeth had caught them. Strong arms wrapped around her waist, tugging her off me and leaving me sprawled on the floor.

  Intense golden eyes met mine momentarily, drifting down to take in the body his friend had been so eager to see the week before. He turned his attention to the kitchen girl, tilting her head back and forth as he studied her lip.

  "Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice a gravelly rumble. I stood on my own, glaring at his stupid handsome face. I purposely avoided looking away from it. The golden-eyed Karfi Descendant could only be described as a mass of muscle that would intimidate even the strongest of humans. Or Descendants.

  "Yes, Ryle," the kitchen girl whimpered pathetically, playing up her injury.

  "Come. I'll give you something that should make it feel better." The heat in his eyes as he stared down at her left no doubt what he intended.

  Because giving a blowjob was a magic cure-all for a lip injury.

  Obviously.

  I snorted, shaking my head in disbelief. "Problem, human?" Ryle turned his attention back to me.

  "No problem. I just really pity you if your cock is so small that she's willing to blow you with a split lip." I smirked at him. "It must be a very sad sight indeed, considering how large the rest of the package is."

  He grinned outright. "Would you like to find out?"

  "You come near me with your cock, and you'll find you no longer have one," I hissed back.

  "One day, you'll sheathe those claws, little Northerner. Once you do, I'll have my cock so far down your throat you'll feel me in your stomach."

  Well then.

  When I didn't answer, he slung his arm over the kitchen girl’s shoulder and guided her away.

  I pitied her stomach.

  Chapter 5

  Mireyah

  The man who summoned me barely said a word. All he told me was that Odele needed to see me and then expected me to follow. With no other choice, I followed him in silence. My stomach churned uncomfortably the entire walk because of what happened with the Descendant. While they didn't strike me as the types to need a human woman to do their dirty work for them, it was possible I'd been wrong.

  Her office was one of the more luxurious of spaces for humans in Godsvail, but even the comfort in which she lived couldn't compare to the glimpses I'd had of the rest of the Academy. But I hadn't really seen enough of it because I'd stuck to the areas I was supposed to clean.

  But it had been enough.

  The vast difference between what the Descendants had and what the humans did was breathtaking.

  Horrifying.

  Any doubt I might have ever harbored about just how little we meant
to the Gods had disappeared since arriving. The Gods could fuck themselves for all I cared. I just wanted to do my job and send money back to my family, who would surely feel the loss should I fail.

  Odele's face was stern and annoyed when I walked into her office. Her graying hair pulled back off her neck into a bun, making her sharp bone structure appear even harsher.

  "Have a seat, Mireyah," she said with a scowl. Swallowing, I perched on the seat in front of her desk. "We have zero tolerance for fighting among the servants at Godsvail," she said, and I felt my head flinch back into my neck.

  "I'm sorry, what?" I whispered.

  "Galina reported that you attacked her in the hall outside the kitchens yesterday."

  "She attacked me," I stressed in return. "I merely defended myself."

  "Then why is it you appear uninjured?" Her brow rose.

  "I didn't say she was good at it." I rolled my eyes. The sniveling, lying twat.

  "I'm afraid that she also has witnesses, in particular a Descendant who claims he witnessed you punching Galina."

  "I'll just bet he did." I closed my eyes in dismay, because I knew well enough to know that my word was nothing against a Descendant. "So, what's to be done with me, then?"

  "You will stay away from Galina or there will be further consequences, do you understand?" I nodded and shrugged but my blood ran cold. The punishments of unruly humans in Godsvail were legendary, and not something even I wanted to incur the wrath of.

  "Good. In the meantime, you're to report to the library immediately. Your new supervisor will meet you there and give you the next assignment."

  "Yes, Miss Odele." Dismissed, I made my way to the door.

  "Mireyah?" I turned back to face her, my hand on the knob of the door feeling like freedom just out of my grasp. "I want it known that I did not support this decision. I believe you will humiliate us. Try to prove me wrong," she drawled, and unease slithered up my spine. I nodded and pulled the door open into what was surely fleeting freedom.

  I made my way to the library, feeling like I'd resigned myself to a terrible fate.

  ✽✽✽

  I found my way to the library despite the rage pulsing through my veins where there should have been blood.

  The Gods played with human life like it was nothing of consequence, like we were bugs to crush when they became inconvenient. I’d had little hope that the Descendants would be any better.

  But the truth was becoming painfully clear every day I spent in this forsaken place.

  The Descendants were worse.

  And all because they had something to prove. And bullies didn't prove themselves by being the best and bettering themselves. They did it by tearing everyone else down to make themselves look better.

  Therein lay the problem with an Academy where the entire purpose was competition. Competition between humans. Competition between the Descendants. There was never any reprieve.

  And I hated it.

  The library doors were ominous, dark wood etched with elaborate details. I paused, drawing deep breaths into my lungs. As much as I'd hated the night shift of cleaning, being in a very public space in the middle of the day seemed far more dangerous for me.

  More opportunity to run my mouth. Doom myself.

  The choice of hesitation was stolen from me when a human opened the doors from the inside. He was older, and he gestured me inside with a wave of his hand. How he had known I was there was beyond me. He didn't exit the library behind me, just returned to his silent sentry at the door.

  Once inside, curious eyes glanced up, and finding only a human in brown turned back away in disinterest. Some Descendants sat, reading massive tomes at round tables. Servants dusted shelves in the back, cleaning books thoroughly. Other humans attended to the Descendants, gathering more books, perching on laps, leaning over to point out passages in books. Gold gilding covered the walls, making the entire space sparkle in the sunshine as it poured into the room through the massive windows at the edge of the cavernous room.

  It was over the top. Too much.

  I should have hated it, and on some level I did. But the luxuriousness of the books being so meticulously cared for drew something from within me, and I wondered over what knowledge those books could give me. I was especially interested in the flora that I knew surrounded Godsvail.

  This far South, the herbs were mostly foreign to me. Just like everything else. I stumbled through the room, eyes darting around in awe as I ran a finger over the stack of books closest to me while I passed. Books were familiar. A safe escape, and I knew I'd need to find out if they permitted humans to read them.

  The sound of a throat clearing drew me from my thoughts. It came from the middle of the room and my neck snapped towards it to face the Svadeni. I drew my hand back into my side, hating that I'd shown them even a moment of vulnerability, of interest in something. It meant they'd seen something that they could one day use to their advantage, and I knew better than to give them ammunition.

  We were at war.

  Hollis jumped down from his perch on the round table, gliding toward me in smooth, measured steps that were confident.

  The prick had swagger. I had to give him that.

  "Mireyah," he purred my name, and I steadied myself, glancing around for whatever supervisor I was meant to meet. Some Descendants loitering around the room watched with bored expressions, except for Hollis' four friends who barely spared us a glance. They were too busy conversing with a female Descendant who was busy savoring being the center of their attention.

  There could be little doubt where they intended to spend their evening.

  "I don't want any more trouble," I said through clenched teeth. “They sent here me to find my new supervisor, since your friend was kind enough to see me removed from cleaning duty." The Karfi raised his head, golden eyes clashing with mine as his mouth twisted into a cruel smirk.

  "And you've found him." Hollis grinned. My eyes went back to him, brow furrowing in confusion. "I've given you the honor of becoming my attendant." His fingers touched the inside of my elbow, goosebumps rising as his touch ghosted over my skin.

  I should have thought about my answer, should have convinced him to choose another. I should have manipulated him with my words, since words were the greatest weapon I had.

  Instead, they always became my greatest downfall.

  I blurted the word crashing through my head like a pinball in a machine, "No." My voice wasn't a shout, but it also wasn't a whisper. Anyone in the library who hadn't been paying attention sure as fuck was after the word left my mouth.

  "Excuse me?" Hollis' amusement disappeared in favor of harsh cruelty; his lips twisted into a sneer.

  "Choose someone else. I don't want the honor.” While I'd intended to be respectful with my words, they'd somehow come out challenging. Bossy. Horrified.

  He stepped closer until it forced me to step back to try to avoid him. "I don't think you understand how this works, pet," he lowered his voice, the deep rasp washing over my skin in a pulse of power that stole the breath from my lungs. Another step. Another retreat. My back thudded into the wall behind me, and my eyes darted around for a space to move to. "You do not say no to me. I own you."

  "Pick someone who wants to be owned."

  The wall at my back felt like a cage, and that feeling only worsened when Hollis stretched his arms out to either side of my head and leaned into my face until his nose touched mine. Disarming, haunting red eyes stared down at me, boring into my soul and teasing as if he could taste everything that made me.

  "Gunmetal eyes," he murmured. "So hard that shell of yours. Was life so wonderful back in the barren waste you called home, Little Northerner?"

  "Why are you doing this?" I whispered, shaking my head. To think of his obsessive interest in me, the ridiculousness of it, made me want to scream. All around us, humans studied our interaction with disdain for me, as if I was insane to challenge the Descendant who wanted me.

  "I think you know the
answer to that question."

  "You want to fuck me.” I felt empty, a resigned anger settling into me as I was tempted to lift my skirt and let him have it. It would mean he’d grow bored of me and move on to his next victim, but my pride stopped me. My pride wouldn't allow me to debase myself like that.

  Even if he took it, I would never ever give it. Not even when his hand touched the bare skin of my thigh, caressing it gently and snapping all the nerves to tingle with sensation.

  I didn't want him. Couldn't want him, and the heat curling under my skin could be nothing but a deception of his power. A manipulation to turn my body against me, but the way his eyes widened in surprise made me question everything.

  As if he could sense his effect on me, as if he could feel the way temptation pooled in my stomach, he bit down on his bottom lip. The movement of the plump flesh of his mouth caressed the corner of my own and drew a ragged gasp from me.

  "That would be too easy," he whispered, sliding his lips over my cheek to whisper into my ear. "I want to break you." The reminder of what I was, what he was, made me steel my spine and shove the foreign sensations away. I locked them down, refusing to feel them. I heard the library doors open and close, too wrapped up in my stare down with Hollis to even glance that way.

  "Greater men than you have tried." I challenged him with my eyes.

  That smirk returned and my eyes met the violet eyes of the Tempestas when he reached out a hand and buried it in my hair. He drew his fingers away, sliding through the tangles with harsh tugs that any normal man would have tried to lessen. He just smiled, as if the hint of pain that made me wince was comical, nothing compared to what they had in store for me.

  I knew he was right.

  "Ah, but I'm no man, am I?" Hollis' perfect lips tipped up, and another hand landed on my waist.

  Gold eyes stared into mine, Ryle's dark brown and golden hair glinting in the sun streaking through the wide windows.

  "They couldn't break you, because you're mine to break."

  Ryle didn't speak, didn't even grunt in agreement, but the way his massive hand encompassed my waist was threatening enough. Hollis would use my body to break my soul, but the Descendant gifted with strength would just break my body. My eyes darted over Hollis' shoulder, determined to ignore them and not give them the satisfaction of showing them how affected I was.