Forsaken Heart

by Elise Whyles

  Tension filled his body at the softest of rustles. The leaves began to shift, to move, the warm, earthy scent of a reptile flooding upward. He tongued a fang as the glowing eyes peered from the blanket of fallen leaves.

  “Gawain!” Soft, the feminine voice washed over him, the tone soothing. The leaves shifted beneath his feet, and scales rasped over each other as the beast coiled, its long, mute-hued body brushing against his ankles. “You have honored me greatly, yet you have forgotten much.”

  Striking out at the serpent, Gawain snarled in fury as it simply coiled away from him, lifted its head, and flicked its tongue toward the fire. “What nonsense do you speak? Show yourself, sorceress!” Gawain whirled, his sword flashing in the fading light. His fangs dripping venom, he spun wildly, his gaze darting through the trees. Fear filled him, as bitter as dead blood, when his eyes fell on his female. Bede slept on, her body curled around his cloak, her hand pressed against her abdomen, her breasts rising and falling with each breath.

  “Show yourself, coward. Or haven’t you the stomach to face me?” Gawain roared. In a whirl of smoke and dust, he teleported, his booted feet braced next to the sleeping woman. The need to protect her stronger than anything he’d ever known, stronger than the need to feed…within her lay power, pure, sweet, and it was his.

  Sword in hand, his eyes scanned the forest floor, every sense attuned to any disturbance. The wind whistled through the branches, playing a soft melody. In the distance a wolf howled, answered by its mate. He could scent the faint odor of bodies, of men, filtering through the night air, through the distance. Their blood rank with liquor and rancor.

  “I am of no danger to her, Gawain.” The flames shifted, dancing upward before being extinguished. Pale blue ones rose into the night, waltzing around the full busted woman who stared at him from within their flickering depths. “So young, were you not? Eager to embrace the calling, to forsake everything but your duty to your queen. Forsaking love itself before you knew its power.” Dark eyes stared from a pale face, the voluptuous curves wrapped in sheer fabric that fluttered within the fire.

  “Leave her.” Gawain rolled his sword. Using it as a lance, he tossed it. The weapon clattered to the stony ground beyond the woman. Frustration boiled, it seemed he could do nothing to rid himself of the witch. “She is of no consequence to you.”

  “She is of us. Of you.” The woman smiled, her fingers beckoning Gawain closer. She reached for him, her grip firm, unbreakable as she took his arm and turned him to face Bede’s sleeping figure. “Look upon her, Gawain. Look upon her and tell me you do not feel it. Feel that need that burns within you. It hardens your shaft, fills you with power, with a hunger you’ve never known. Only within her will the need be slaked. The thirst be quenched. Within your mate, you will find power unlike any you can imagine—and a redemption not even Amuliana can seize from you. Hear my words, my son, follow the heart beating within your chest as it guides you to the one you desire above all others.”

  Gawain stared in horror as the snake slithered around Bede, coiling over her. It reared up, its hood extended, the glowing slits of its eyes focusing on him with each passing heartbeat. He watched its jaws open, long, hollow fangs dropping down, dripping the acidic fluid.

  “Please, I beg of thee, let her be. Punish me. Punish my weakness, not her.” Gawain struggled within the woman’s grasp.

  “Punish?” The woman chuckled. “Weakness? Of all my warriors, you have proven to be the most resilient. The one who most closely embraced your guilt, your shame at the death of your beloved queen. The one least deserving of such a penance. You did not betray her, Gawain. The betrayal came from another.”

  “I shirked my duty.”

  “For years now, I have watched you punish yourself, wallow in your guilt. Unlike others of your sect, of your kind, you still choose to wear the scars of that night. Be at peace, embrace your future, queen’s guard.” She turned him, her face pressing against his with an icy touch. “She is yours.” She pointed a delicate finger.

  Gawain groaned in protest, it could not be. He wasn’t worthy of such a gift, of such honor.

  The serpent sunk its dripping fangs deep within Bede’s flesh. Thin red lines raced along her throat toward her breasts as the venom pumped through her blood.

  “No.” Gawain trembled, his flesh crawling as his tattoo shifted, the scales rasping as his beast stirred. “She cannot… You cannot mean to…”

  “I do mean.” The flames flickered white. “You have honored your vow, your life has been spent protecting, serving. With her by your side, your power will be limitless. It pains me to see my children under threat. Only through victory can peace be found. Embrace her, Gawain, embrace the life you were destined for.” In a shower of sparks the woman seemed to vanish, her companion fading away in a dissipating mist. “Beware, Gawain, of the one who wears two faces. Look not to the old enemy but to a new foe. For in that foe you will find the greatest threat.”

  A shudder raced through him as his sword flew with a flick of her wrist to land at his feet. His ears filled with the throbbing pulse of life. “I will not break my vow.” Somehow, his whispered promise sounded hollow as if he’d already broken it. “Selene, be merciful, I pray to thee, do not curse her with the weight of my sins.”

  * * * *

  Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Bede shifted, her fingers plucking at the ties of her shift. She recognized Gawain’s figure, so gathered herself and climbed to her feet. The fabric of her shift brushed against her sensitive breasts, hardening her nipples until they ached. Heavy, the longing flowed like wine as she approached Gawain. He stood staring at the dying fire. His lips were pulled back, teeth bared, a look of rage twisting his face into a terrifying mask. The long, ugly scar was white with the force of his emotional turmoil.

  She paused, realization of her own awareness, a strange calm seeping like a chill into her. There was no fear, no hesitation in her. Instead, she could feel an answering darkness building. Her nails scratched over her throat, the sensation streaking through her. Ignoring the faint uncertain whisper at the back of her mind, Bede reached out.

  Looking at him through her lashes, she took his wrist. Dark eyes followed her every move as she nuzzled into his palm, her tongue darting out to lick at the flesh. Heat flared, scorching along her nerve endings with each whimper, each growl. Shock, awareness, and lust lit his gaze as her fingers tightened, nails digging in, creating furrows with each attempted withdrawal of his hand.

  She met his hard stare, her lips curling upward a moment before she bared her teeth. His muted protest was drowned by his growl as she sank her teeth deep into the tender flesh between his index finger and thumb. She quivered at the rush of power, of sheer pleasure that poured over her with the first drops of blood on her tongue.

  “No.” Gawain’s hand tangled in her hair, sharp pain lancing through her when he jerked her head back. “Bede, you cannot. Gods…” he hissed with the movement of her jaw as she lapped at the wound.

  Digging her nails deeper, Bede pushed her hand up his body, tangling her fingers in the laces of his tunic. Humming softly she let go, her tongue tracing over her lips to lap at the warm blood lingering there. “I can.” She leaned closer, her attention on the faint lines beneath his skin.

  “Woman, this is not what you desire,” Gawain ground out. “It is only the serpent’s bite, a trick by a sorceress or a goddess.”

  “I think not.” Bede trailed a finger down his throat, marveling at the subtle shift of flesh, the darkening of the lines. “I dreamt this. Dreamt of your touch, your fire. Why would I doubt what I have—”

  “What more did you dream of?” Gawain jerked her closer, his eyes narrowing. “Quickly, speak up. Perhaps it was not the child I was…”

  Bede struggled within his grasp at the reminder of Una. Fear for her sister warred with the lust that colored her thoughts. “My sister, Una, we must…”

  “And we shall. Tell me all of your dreams, Bede.” Gawain cupped her jaw
, his voice filled with urgency. His eyes swept her face, heat and fear tangled within the depths with each passing heartbeat.

  “There are so many.” Bede shivered, her lashes falling.

  “Have you dreamt of the one who wears a false face?”

  Bede stiffened at the urgency, the raw emotion in his voice. Her mind scrambled, images flashed before her. “Nay.” Her voice broke. “I dreamt of you most of late. Snakes, aye, I’ve dreamt of mating snakes wrapping around us, their bodies sliding over our skin, their eyes glowing.” She stared, shocked as the pallor vanished from his skin, turning it translucent. What could possibly shock the warrior before her?

  “When did you dream this?” Gawain’s grip tightened painfully. Tugging on his wrist she broke free.

  “Two days past, milord. After we saw the man in the cave I had the vision, saw the snakes come alive, their fangs flashing. Aye, they spoke to me. Their voices seductive, easing my fears. Embracing me, embracing us as they mated beneath our flesh.”

  “’Tis true then.” Gawain stepped back, his eyes closed. “Goddess, you challenge my strength, I cannot break my vow. It is what protects us all.”

  Bede frowned at the torment in his words. “Vow, milord? You make no sense.” Gasping when he whirled, his fingers grabbing her hair, Bede stared. Longing warred with fear, and she could not decide which she prayed most to win.

  “We are but half a night’s ride from one who can direct us to a portal. We will seek her council. I will find Una. You will be safe until my return. I must know why she would tempt me with what she knows is forbidden.”

  “Who?”

  “I cannot say.” Gawain nearly sobbed, his body tense, his eyes darting wildly rather than meeting hers. “The trees have ears and loosened tongues. Come, douse the flames. If we ride hard we will be in her realm long before the sun rises.”

  Bede watched Gawain vanish into the shadows, the snorts of the horses loud in the silence. What vow had he made that he was being tempted to break? More importantly, how would he react when he knew just how futile it was to fight what she was beginning to know?

  Chapter 7

  Huge metal urns full of flames lined the corridor as Selene walked amongst the other gods and demi-gods that had come to council. How like them to appear so rapidly, but it was a blessing. Too long they’d allowed Amuliana free reign. Allowed her to play with the lives of their kinds, their children, and now they had to figure something out. Slipping past two tall, burly, oiled guards she closed the door and hurried through the shadows.

  “Pawns. She’s reduced them to pawns in some sick game.”

  “Come, Khrund, ’tis past time to be throwing accusations.” Selene sidled up to the man standing in the shadows, his hands wrapped around a block of clay.

  “It is the truth, however late it might be for throwing them.”

  “What think you of their plight?” She slipped behind a sheer curtain at the faint glow of sunlight through the window. Even now, she feared the sun…or rather Apollo whose favor she had not regained. “Do you think it fair they all pay for his sins?”

  “His sin was bedding a fickle bitch who sought to turn her children against each other for sport.” Khrund grunted, the blob of clay slowly taking shape to reveal a humanoid figure. “If we all draw against her, condemn her to solitary living, then she would have her penance.”

  “We cannot condemn without proof. The council will not allow it. Even now she holds power because she warms the bed of more than one man on it. The traitorous little whore. Bedding anything and everything with a cock to rise to power, forgetting she was meant only to be a lesser god. Why even now, her brother watches her, ready to send his huntresses for her head if the call comes.”

  “You would rather we hand her our beings and watch them slaughter each other with malice in their hearts? What does it matter who the harlot dances for, if our children are decimated by her greed and impurity?”

  “Nay, old friend. I agree with you, but we must take care. She has proven she has the ear of those with more power than we, so we must move with caution. I will do all I can to gather the proof we need. I ask only that you do the same, give to her the barest of crumbs to play with and she will lose interest. Yes, let her warm Apollo’s bed, or Zeus’s, in the end it will be our victory.” Selene placed a hand on his shoulder. “Know this, we must not allow her to have power. We must protect our own. I will bless those of my children with the power to contain Saltar, just as you must. Protect the innocent and the guilty shall fall.”

  “Trust me, old friend. They shall be.” Khrund grinned and offered the small statue to her. “I shall give her what she least expects.”

  Selene watched him fade away into the shadows, her gaze falling to the statue of a young woman in her hands. A chill raced through her as she studied it closer, the ivy vines that wrapped around the girl marked her as surely as a brand. Amuliana would not know what was coming for her, of that Selene was confident.

  “Be safe, my child.” Tucking the statue into her bindings, she slipped out into the corridor and headed for the massive throne room.

  Inhaling, she glanced up into the dark gaze of Draconi. Offering a brief nod to the Dragon God, Selene hurried into the throne room, her mind on the figure pressed close to her flesh. Vengeance would have a name.

  * * * *

  Bede tensed, her attention on the six men standing in the road. Threadbare clothing hung from their filthy bodies. The stench of sweat and disease rolled into the biting hint of lust, anger, and rage.

  “Gawain?” Nudging her mount closer to him, she stifled a shudder of disgust when one of the men stepped forward, his eyes narrowed, saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth as he stared at her.

  “They’ll not touch you.” Fury laced through his voice, drowned only by the singing of metal against metal. Moonlight gleamed, dancing off the blade as he swung off his horse and pushed the animal’s head aside. “Let us pass and no harm shall come to you.”

  “Well, we ain’t so sure of that. We got needs, wants…” The obvious spokesman of the group scratched at his beard. The other men gathered behind him, their hands upon their weapons in a clear statement of intent.

  “Speak your terms, parasite, and be done with it,” Gawain hissed.

  “The horses, the gold.” The man paused, his tongue licking obscenely at his lips. “Your whore.”

  “I have no whore. The lady…well, she is mine.” Gawain’s posture changed, his shoulders tensed, legs spread to brace his weight. Bede shuddered at the flash of his claws. She leaned forward, bracing her weight against the horse’s withers. “Move out of our path.” His voice shook with malice, the faint scent of his rage bubbling along the wind to her.

  “Gawain?”

  “Bede, have no fear. I’ll not let them—”

  “Come, just give us what we want and save yourself the hurt you’ll endure if you don’t. You have so much, we have so little.” The group snickered, spreading out to blatantly challenge them.

  “Get out of our way, you and your filth.” Gawain vibrated with rage, his voice dark, a thread of danger that sent a bolt of unease up Bede’s spine.

  Bede gasped as the highwaymen lunged forward, clubs and swords at the ready. The air reverberated with the clash of weapons as they attacked. Blades swung wildly, cutting into soft flesh, breaking bone after bone. Screams of agony and terror filled the air. An outlaw landed on the ground in front of the horses, his body mangled, eyes staring sightlessly into the night sky. The horses screamed in terror, bolting from the trail. Losing her grip on the reins, Bede landed hard, her breath knocked from her lungs. Scrambling to her feet, she swallowed against the growing lump in her throat.

  Fear tangled with a darker, deadlier instinct when one man darted past Gawain, his beady eyes narrowed, a wild, crazed look in them. Anger flared, like a freshly poked fire. Fear faded, a cold instinct settling over her as she drew her dagger and stepped back. She squinted at him and licked her lips, her stomach tu
rning when her assailant followed the movement, his lips curling up to reveal rotted teeth.

  He lunged forward, his fingers ripping at the smock she wore. Disgust rolled her stomach as his filthy flesh touched hers. Her dagger burned against her palm. Kill him. You can, you must. Protect your mate.

  Power lurched in her stomach at the faint metallic taste on her tongue when he punched her. Stumbling back a half a step, she eyed him with cold disdain, the tip of her blade flashing in the moonlight. Instinct and hunger roared through her. With an icy fascination she focused on the filth before her. Shock grabbed her at the scratch of a fang over her tongue. Acrid, rancid, the stench of blood filled her nose as she watched her blade slide through the flesh of the man before her. A red tidal wave flowed down his throat, staining his clothes, and he fell to his knees, shock, horror, and a strange relief in his eyes.

  Her heart racing, she watched him collapse into a heap at her feet, her stomach rumbling. Gawain’s agonized roar drew her attention. Mobbed, Gawain was struggling with the men swarming over him. She gnashed her teeth together at the sight of a blade sticking from his body. Three cowards rushed at him, their weapons forgotten, their fists and feet crashing into him again and again. Their relentless attack pushed Gawain back, away from her. Away from the safety she offered.

  A haze of red filled her vision. Rage crashed through her, a storm of unimagined power and fury lashing at her control. With a furious snarl that drew the attention of one, she lurched forward. Her nails scored his flesh, drawing blood as she grabbed a hold. The need to sink her teeth into his flesh pulled her closer and closer to the brink. A strange ache filled her mouth, her tongue swollen, saliva dripping as she pulled his head back.

  With a scream of primal emotion, Bede sunk her teeth deep. The flesh gave way like the crust on a loaf of bread. Each pull on the bittersweet liquid filled her with a sense of purpose, a hunger she’d never felt. The man beneath her squirmed, screamed, and clawed at the earth, his voice garbled with each passing second.