One never knew what walking in the woods would bring. Maybe she would find some spring onions, or the early garlic greens to fill the basket with.
SHE FOUND THE GARLIC greens on the very edge of the woods, just a few paces up the creek from the spot where she had found Raim . . .
Thinking about him again.
Yanking a small knife from under the rope she used for a belt, she bent over, resolving not to think about Raim for at least a minute.
His amulet swayed on the cord around her neck, suddenly glowing just as bright as it did when Raim wore it.
Her heart skidded to a near stop.
Was he here?
Again?
Had he come back?
Clutching the stone of the amulet in her palm, she straightened quickly, eyes scanning the area in search of Raim.
Through the underbrush behind the tree line, Olyena spotted a male figure crouching by the creek.
At first glance, the man appeared to be drinking from the stream, then she realized he was just rinsing his face and hands. His clothing was of a similar cut and material as Raim’s, but the stranger’s golden curls, spread on his shoulders, let her know it wasn’t he.
Her hope crashed into despair and disappointment. Her knees buckling under her, she sank to the forest floor.
Possibly catching the sound of the few twigs she broke on her way down, the stranger rose to his feet promptly, turning her way.
She stilled, hoping he wouldn’t see her, but he obviously had spotted her already as he was heading her way.
“Who is there?” he yelled, and she drew her head into her shoulders in an attempt to make herself smaller, wishing she could make herself invisible. Meeting a stranger in the woods rarely turned to her benefit.
“I won’t harm you,” he promised.
His words didn’t reassure her much—a long sword dangled at his side, and a short axe was hooked to his belt.
“Who are you?” he asked, parting the underbrush between them.
Having been found, she got up to her feet, rolling her shoulders out and now wishing she was bigger.
“No matter who. Just get on your way,” she said somberly.
Not quite meeting his stare, she could almost feel it slide down her body in an assessing way, although the purpose of his assessment wasn’t clear yet.
“Where did you get that sword, little one?” he asked. His voice firm—curious, but not hostile.
Sword.
She quickly placed her hand on its pommel, feeling a little more confident about the situation.
“I know how to use it,” she warned.
“Where is the man who owned it?”
“He is not a man,” she replied gruffly. Another quick glance at the amulet on her chest revealed it burned brighter than ever. “Just like you are not, either.”
“So, you’ve met Raim?” The stranger tilted his head to the side, staring at the pendant, too. “Can you tell me where he is then?”
‘I wish I knew that myself.’ She sighed inwardly.
“What do you want with him?” No matter where he was, Olyena wished no ill for Raim. If this demon was his enemy, she was not inclined to give him any information whatsoever.
“I’m his partner. His friend.” He took a step back and lowered his head in a formal bow, before introducing himself, “My name is Gremory. Raim and I had been travelling together when we were attacked and separated. He didn’t mention me?”
“No.” Olyena hadn’t asked for many details about Raim’s life. When he was with her, she was happy being in the bubble of the moment with him. Nothing else mattered then.
Gremory nodded, visibly confused. “Normally, he would be searching for me.”
“He was hurt.” She felt the need to defend Raim.
“So was I. It took me weeks to recover, and I’ve been tracking him ever since.”
“You’ve been following him?”
“Yes. It’s not that hard to track Raim.” Gremory huffed a humourless laugh. “One just needs to follow the trail of corpses and mutilated men.”
He took another close look at her, and she recognized the intensity in his stare. Raim often gazed at her like that, as if searching for something deep inside her very soul. The longing for him painfully twisted her insides.
“He . . . left,” she said softly, blinking away the tears that suddenly swelled in her eyes.
“Did he hurt you in any way?” Gremory’s eyebrows, the colour of ancient gold, furrowed into a frown. The concern in his voice proved to be more difficult to bear than any hostility. It disarmed her.
Leaning back against a young birch tree for support, she brushed off an errant tear.
“No. He didn’t harm me.” She flinched under his examining gaze. It felt as if he already knew the truth, no matter what she said.
“Not in the way he hurt the others then.” Gremory nodded, with a knowing look. “Listen . . . Is that your basket?” He picked it up and offered her his hand to help her out into the clearing. “How about I walk you back to the village, and you will tell me everything. Specifically, I’d love to know how you came into the possession of the sword and the amulet. Raim has never parted with either. Then maybe you can point me in the direction he went.”
“I don’t live in the village,” Olyena sniffled. She straightened the vest over her shirt, pulling herself together. With one cautious glance at his outstretched hand, she took it, getting some comfort from the strength she felt in him when she leaned on it.
“I’ll take you to whatever place you call home then.”
Chapter 16
RAIM, THE GRAND MASTER—months after having won the position, he still loved the sound of it. It stoked something inside him, giving him a feeling of immense satisfaction he had never felt before. Only once during his existence had he felt something stronger than that. And that was in the small cabin in the woods.
The memories of it—of her—never stopped haunting him, but he forced himself to focus on the many tasks he had at hand now.
With the help of Stolas, Raim made lists of the names of every Incubus in this world. He then put a process in place to update the list regularly, to track the whereabouts of each and every one of them.
Being out there held its dangers, the close contact between demons and humans had often proved hazardous for both. And Raim wanted to know where each Incubus was at any given time. If any one of them was injured or fell into Deep Sleep, a team was dispatched to retrieve him and bring him back to the Base where he could then recover in peace.
Very few of the Incubi managed consistently to keep their self-control around humans and their precious emotions. People died as a result of running into an Incubus. Demons often ended up wounded and hurt. Also, Raim now knew firsthand about how easily the control of an Incubus could slip away when faced with the sweet smile of a woman.
To keep both races safe, a greater divide between them was needed.
Raim demanded that Incubi spend more time at the Base, rather than feeding freely outside. The teams of those with better control were encouraged to bring in whatever Sources they encountered outside, to feed the rest of the demons at the Base.
With their freedoms diminishing, many demons had opposed his changes. Raim dealt with those quickly and ruthlessly, starving them until they fell into Deep Sleep or by exiling them to the place between the dimensions—Inferno—for a few decades. Removing the disobedient ones allowed him to establish better control over the rest.
He streamlined whatever laws the Incubi had, adding a number of new rules and increasing the punishments for disobedience. Those who actively protested were also banished to Inferno.
‘All of this is ultimately for their own good,’ he told himself to dissuade the guilt and doubts.
Still, the most important part of his plan had not been implemented. Raim had not acted on his initial idea of Incubi taking over this world and enslaving humans.
Forcing the mortals to become nothing more b
ut Incubi food sources no longer seemed acceptable. He didn’t dare to analyze the reasons for that in depth, knowing they would have a lot to do with the woman he left alone in the woods.
Raim had tasted her fear and despair in the aftermath of being mistreated by her own kind and he couldn’t bring himself to order the same treatment be done to other women.
This was more proof that being with her had weakened him.
She was the reason he had abandoned the plans of domination.
His ruthlessness, his decisiveness, his very confidence—all were affected after he had spent time in close proximity with a human woman.
Walking into the meeting room at the Base one night, Raim laid eyes on the female Source who was already sitting on the silk floor cushions there. One of the retrieval teams had brought her in. She had been fed a good meal, given a bath and some new clothes, and was now patiently awaiting being used for a Feeding.
Taking a seat on one of the several cushions at the opposite wall, Raim joined other Council members then gave a signal to the Incubus standing next to the woman to proceed. The demon had been carefully selected by Raim from a group of those who could control their hunger better around humans.
“Will it be all of you?” the woman asked the Incubus, nervously sweeping the room full of Incubi with her gaze.
“No,” the demon replied. “I’ll be the only one touching you. The rest will just watch if you don’t mind.”
The woman released a breath, relief spreading through her like a cool, milky tide. But it was the warm glow of gratitude that lit inside her at hearing the comforting voice of the Incubus that raised the alarm in Raim.
“Silence!” he ordered firmly.
The Incubus shot him a puzzled glance but obeyed, wordlessly sliding the silk caftan off the woman’s shoulders.
Her skin was much darker than Olyena’s, Raim noted, almost as dark as his own. Her long hair had a wave to it. But the ink-black colour of her tresses and the way some of them had fallen over her face—making his fingers itch with the desire to brush them aside—sharpened the image of Olyena in his mind.
He closed his eyes for a moment, struggling to collect himself. At the sound of the woman’s gasp, followed by a soft moan, he opened them again. The hand of the Incubus was cupping the woman’s breast, her dark nipple poking from between his fingers.
The warm, silky sensation of Olyena’s skin under his palm came to Raim’s mind, bringing with it the longing for that moment and the memory of the deep satisfaction and comfort he only ever felt when he was with her.
Unable to tear his gaze away from the male hand massaging the woman’s breast, he fought a feeling of unease. The contact didn’t feel right—too much risk for the Incubus taking what he shouldn’t. Too close a connection between the two.
How could Raim completely trust the self-control of any demons, if he had his own tested severely by close contact with a human woman?
Ripping his riding gloves from under his belt, Raim tossed them at the Incubus.
“Put these on,” he bit out sharply.
Making the Incubi wear gloves while pleasuring the Source during the Feeding would increase the number of demons he could assign this task to, he told himself. It was merely a practical solution, after all.
The dark pink wave of the woman’s arousal reached him, and he skimmed it quickly.
It was good.
Nourishing and tempting . . .
And it was different enough from the taste of the one he needed to forget.
FORGETTING DIDN’T PROVE to be easy.
Months went by, but time brought no peace to the new Grand Master. In addition to the memories of Olyena that would not let him be, the worry for Gremory, who still had not return to the Base after more than a year now, had been steadily growing stronger.
Raim had never spent this much time without knowing Gremory’s whereabouts. Almost all of the Incubi under his command had been accounted for, except for his very own partner, the second half of his team. And Raim was the last one who saw him.
The teams Raim had sent in search of Gremory had all returned empty-handed, there wasn’t even a trail to follow. He feared the worse, his partner had either been severely, repeatedly injured, which physically prevented him from returning to the Base, or he had run out of energy and fallen into Deep Sleep in some remote area where no human had come to wake him up.
Either way, Gremory needed help. And since no one Raim had sent was able to locate him, he headed back up north himself.
Guilt urged him to hurry as he travelled. If Gremory had indeed been stopped by a grave injury, if he lay tortured by Deep Sleep somewhere, then it should have been Raim’s priority to find and help him as soon after their separation as possible. Instead, he spent that time in Olyena’s arms.
The pull of the memories of her grew more powerful the closer he came to the area where she lived, as if the invisible string that she had connected herself to him grew stronger, drawing him in. So strong, that he took the turn towards her cabin as soon as he reached her woods.
His heart raced wildly as he approached the small clearing where her cabin stood. Any caution left him when he spotted the tiny structure through trees. He stepped into the clearing, leading his horse by the reins behind him.
With a knock on the door, he opened it, expecting to be greeted by the warm smell of cooking and the sight of Olyena’s small frame. Anticipation had taken over, making nothing else matter. If she called to him again, he’d stay. He would surrender and forget everything else.
But the place was empty when he opened the door. Not in a way that meant the occupant had just stepped out for the day, but that she had been gone for a long time now—weeks, maybe months—with no obvious intention to return.
The shutters had been left open, anything of any value gone. There hadn’t been fire made in the stove for a while—mushrooms were growing in it. The packed dirt floor was littered with old leaves and debris. No sound from the chicken coup certainly meant that the chickens were gone, too.
A sharp lance of disappointment shot through Raim, then an alarm rose inside him. Quickly, he searched for any signs of struggle or violence that might have driven Olyena to abandon her home. The place was empty, but not ransacked. Nothing was broken, even the few pieces of furniture inside weren’t moved or upturned.
Still, the feeling of guilt grew heavier in his chest, weighing down on him to the point it was hard to breathe.
Leaving the cabin, Raim made it to the village by nightfall. The first peasant he accosted on the outskirts didn’t recognize him, as he had long healed completely, leaving no trace of an injury on his face and no need for an eyepatch.
The villager told him that the witch’s dark, scarred guardian turned into a handsome, golden-haired man over a year ago. The two of them left a few months after that, never to be seen in the forest again.
Raim spent a few long months, searching for a trail of the couple through the Kievan Rus and deeper into the volatile European parts of the continent, but to no avail.
Eventually, he had no choice but to return back to the Base in the Empire—angry, disappointed, and . . . desperately feeling the loss of the woman and the demon, the only two beings in this world he had ever allowed to come close to his heart.
Chapter 17
THE HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE
15th Century
“Are you sure?” Raim leaned deeper into the shadows by the wall of the tavern, drawing the hood of his cloak lower over his face, lest the few humans lingering on the street glimpse his face.
Ever since he had moved the Council to the sleepy parts of Kievan Rus two centuries ago, he had been leaving the Base much more often than he allowed any other Incubus.
Here, in the tiny village at the foothills of the Alps, he was far away from the new Incubi Base that was now seated deep in the woods where Olyena’s cabin once stood.
“Are you sure it was them?” he asked the human male again.
It had been nearly four centuries since Raim’s return to the cabin when he found it abandoned. All logic told him that the couple, which this man informed him had been spotted heading for the Alps the day prior, could not be Olyena and Gremory. Being mortal, Olyena should have been long dead by now. Still, Raim had never abandoned his search. Whatever reports he received had always mentioned them both, the dark-haired woman with the golden-haired man who wouldn’t leave her side.
“Yes. They were going south, to the sea. A stable hand overheard them.” The male stretched his hand out, the anticipation of the promised payment beamed inside him with greed. “You may be able to catch up with them before they cross the mountains if you hurry.”
Raim had been away from the Base for far too long already. Yet the temptation to keep going, now that he was this close, got even stronger.
Silently, he handed the man the payment for the information.
“Did your sweetheart leave you for another?” the human blurted out, the weight of gold in his hand making him too chatty for his own good.
A spike of rage speared through Raim. He grabbed the male by the throat.
“For a mortal, you are way too insolent,” he hissed through his teeth, siphoning just enough life energy from the man to make him pass out, without killing him. “You need to take better care if you want to keep your short pathetic life a bit longer.” He tossed the man under the wall.
For a demon, Raim himself had become way too sensitive, he realized bitterly.
Without sparing another glance for his informer, he headed to his horse that would take him south to the Alps.
HE HAD TO LEAVE HIS horse behind, the higher up the mountain he climbed. Traveling on horseback along the steep path was no longer possible.
Only when the sun was already partially hidden behind the mountain peaks on the horizon had the faint smell of a campfire reached him, and Raim realized he had caught up with the couple he had pursued for centuries.
Carefully watching his step so as not to lose his footing on the narrow path and launch off the cliff to the rocky valley below, Raim made his way around an outcropping between the few short, skinny trees.
The Last Unforgiven: Cursed Page 9