by S J Doran
“Let go. They don’t deserve our consideration.” He belatedly realized her breasts were wet, salty with the taste of his own tears.
His mind flashed to young Silas, his big violet eyes looking up at him with all the innocent wonder of a child, excitedly calling for his uncle Cass as he jumped into his arms...
Her hips rocked against his, a small cry escaping her when her shifting brought him in deeper. His mind blanked, focusing completely on surrender.
They fit so perfectly. She took all of him and loved it.
“We have this,” she whispered, another mewl escaping when he ground against her, the angle dragging his shaft across her clit. “Harder. Umph,” she groaned against his neck.
Never to stroll along his beaches again. No more laying alongside his Herald, comparing notes on the books they were reading. No more books…
“Yes, Mara.” He found her lips with his, swallowing down her cries. “Going to make you come so hard.” He grabbed her chin, holding it still until she blinked open her eyes. “Then we’ll find it again.”
“Cass,” she gasped against his lips as he thrust harder. “I fear you’ll regret this,” her words came out on a sob as her sheath grew hotter, clenching around him. So close. He kept up his punishing pace, pleased when her moans turned throaty, coming out on gasps
He thought of Jez, laughing and paging through a dirty magazine, actually reading the articles, his soft wing cradling Cass’s back.
Wasn’t enough. She was all he needed.
“Never regret you.” He got up to his knees, gripping the underside of her thighs, sliding his hands down to her ass, his thumbs dragging across the softest part of her inner thighs, his own climax threatening when he felt the wetness drenching her there.
“All the years,” he punctuated his words with hard and fast strokes. “Chasing something so elusive.” He moved his hands to her hips, pulling her against him as he slammed into her. “You were there all along.”
“Yes,” she cried out, he wasn’t sure if she was responding to his words or letting him know how close she was. As if she needed to tell him.
“The things I did in front of you…” he swiped his arm across his face, wiping the tears that were still running freely. He wanted to lose himself.
He wanted to give in to the void.
With her. The two of them existing in nothing.
Her body arched, her hands grasping the sheets, the pillow, reaching for his arms — he bent over and captured her scream in his mouth as her body exploded around his. Her sheath pulsed around his cock, her mouth devouring his, biting, sucking, her moans growing softer as she started to come down.
He felt the spiral of her magic tangling with his own. The moment their powers touched, his own orgasm teased into existence. He growled against her mouth, sucking softly, deeply, his hands squeezing her flesh harder.
Their power shone so brightly everything else dimmed around them.
His chest tightened, he buried his face in her hair, hiding his tears and fear, even as he was shattered with the most intense orgasm of his existence.
It only took a moment — both of their climaxes reaching a crescendo at the same time — for their magic to spiral out of control. He felt them meld together, collapsing into one another, as though becoming whole, a self-sustaining blazing energy.
Was he truly capable of sentencing every other being to death?
They were playing right into the hand of his father’s dealing. Pawns on someone else’s board.
This was something he couldn’t conquer. To have her was to destroy everything he had been nurturing. Everything he had built up.
Dark gods, she was worth it.
He felt it start to invert. The power starting to feed off everything it could… it’s massive reach sucking in everything...
A maddening refrain full of discordant notes, swallowing the worlds around them into the darkness.
Her power fed the void of his, igniting it into a nuclear fusion that collapsed everything in its path, pulling it back into its gravitational field. Their power was literally eating up the known universe.
“Pull back your power now!” Azadiel’s shouts burst through the haze of pleasure. Somehow he was here, with Jez, using his voice of power against them. Again.
He felt the void inside of him snap back into place, trailing power and a tidal wave worth of energy.
He grunted, his body seizing as it overwhelmed him.
“Cass?” Mara tapped his cheek, but his vision wouldn’t focus.
“Jez!” Az shouted, he had to get up to see…
Had he hurt him?
“He’s going into convulsions,” Az was shouting, Mara was scrambling, holding Cass’s hand but trying to see what she could do for Jez.
“Take him to the Mont,” Mara yelled. Or maybe she wasn’t yelling, his head was going dim. “Separate them so the power fades. Hurry.”
“You go with Jez, Amara. I’ll stay here with Cassius.” Azadiel’s voice was stern. “Levistus!”
“Mara,” he cried out as she dragged his pants up over his hips. “Don’t you leave me. You promised.”
Her hands cupped his cheeks. “Never leaving you. I won’t be far.”
Her smile was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, even with the sadness of loss shining so brightly in her eyes.
Rebellion
“He remains unresponsive, Sarratum sa.”
She ordered Rasputin summoned as Levistus escorted her out of Cass’s bedroom with the unresponsive Herald’s much larger body slung over his shoulder. She’d been herded through the main portal in the throne room of the Malsheem to the mortal realm as though she were an unwelcome guest who’d overstayed. Rasputin met them in Cassius’s apartment on the hill of Mont Saint Michel, looking around with curiosity but no comment, Agate following close behind.
Amara remained silent, stunned, wondering what in the Hells had just happened. A fall from grace, from bliss unequaled… to this. Forced to leave Cass confused and hurting, to look over the unresponsive body of the angel. The one Cass called friend — the one he cared for.
“What exactly happened to him? Why was he the only one injured?”
Rasputin sat on a chair beside the bed, a trace of humor on his belligerent face. “We suspect through his mental link with the Demon King and yourself, he has learned no defense against it. This makes your little dally with his highness less a private matter, and more of a... troyka.”
“A what?” She understood the Russian dialect of Gaia, but was hoping she’d misheard the mad monk.
“A threesome,” he explained matter-of-factly, her head already lowered into her palms. This was not happening.
“As herald with a lack of defense wards, he has no choice but to sense everything his king feels. When he sensed what you two were conjuring, his own essence was placed directly between the dark energy vortex and its path of destruction, I can only conclude it black-lashed.” Rasputin’s heavy accent was unable to fully hide the excitement in his voice at such a discovery.
Her head pounded at the implication, a painful tension building between her brows. “But... there is no possible way I could even hope to control such an energy influx. What would you have me do instead?”
“I could suggest a vow of abstinence.”
She glared at the mad monk, amusement bright within those unfocused eyes of his. Her poison master had clearly been called away while sampling his own concoctions.
“He wasn’t ‘placed’ there,” Levistus’s exasperated tone rose up from the opposite side of the chamber. “Jez’Piel purposefully came between you two and the realms. He knew what was happening before any of us. Obviously, he sensed Cassius’s… happiness... before your powers fused and nearly ended us all. The fool absorbed as much of it as he could stand before sounding the alarm, providing Aza and I with just enough time to stop you. What in the nine layers of Hell were you two thinking?”
He lay sprawled out over a peacock blue
sofa, one arm draped across his eyes to drown out the bright light of the earth-realm, the intensity too much for eyes used to the gloom of the Nessus even with the curtains drawn shut. Made her want to open the curtains so the sun could glare in like hot pokers in his idiotic eyes.
“Well, I believe our exact thoughts were; let’s destroy everything in creation and see how that works out! What the fuck do you think we were thinking, old goat? We just wanted to be alone, together, and I assure you that invoking the end of times was the very last thing on either of our minds.”
She wasn’t sure why she answered; she didn’t owe Levistus an explanation, he wouldn’t even understand what she stood to lose with this revelation. She’d seen the horror within Cassius’s eyes at seeing Jez injured. He’d been devastated.
Her demon had beings he cared for, those whose loss he would miss and mourn.
“Will the herald recover?”
Rasputin crooked a condescending brow. “Perhaps, with time and care.”
Her head fell back on a tired sigh, the weight of the realms suddenly back on her shoulders, crushing her spirit. “Er-Agate, you will stay and see to the Jez’Piel’s care. At the first sign of danger, you report to me.” She didn’t like being without her attendant, but couldn’t trust any other to look after the infernal angel.
Her brow quirked in surprise when Agate grimaced at the order before inclining her head in deference. “It will be done Sarratum shi.”
With that Mara turned to leave.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
Levistus’s exasperated tone followed her, his arm lifting to gaze in her direction as soon as he sensed the pulse of energy from a summoned passageway.
Ignoring him, she focused on stabilizing that passageway, the effort of ripping a tear through the fabric of time and space no small feat while standing upon the magic siphoning soil of Gaia.
She didn’t bother facing Levistus when she finally deigned to answer. “Fret not old man, I’m not returning to the Nessus. I know when I’ve been defeated.”
Not bothering to wait for his response, she pushed through the passageway and with steadfast steps walked directly into the sacrificial hall of the ninth temple, discovering it quiet and empty.
How very peculiar…
As the passage closed behind her, there were no acolytes to receive her, no priests to petition on behalf of the masters, no Dominae to berate her for nearly unleashing the Apocalypse upon their realm. She’d at least expected to be chewed out a bit. Stranger still, there were no warriors standing guard, no worshippers giving offerings. Why was the temple left unguarded and unattended?
She’d been about to set for the private chambers of Dominus Berith when a net suddenly blanketed her, the crushing weight of metal chains mashing her onto the onyx floor, caging her.
“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?”
The more she moved, the more tightly the chain netting wrapped around her body. Wasting no time, she called upon her magic, trusting the energy of Asurim to come to her call. She could sense it rise in answer, divine energy she’d priorly harvested pulsating through the metal, where it would snap the links with ease. Energy surged and fizzled, and to her complete astonishment, the metal held, its chains unbroken.
Impossible.
Not only did her power failed to break the net, it almost appeared as if the metal were absorbing it. The pad of her fingers brushed along a link, coating them with an oily film. Agony seared through her, heat scorching her skin while a stabbing pain, like the pricking of a thousand needles paralyzed her muscles.
Everywhere the net touched, she burned. Genuine fear of catching on fire made her scream out, pleading to any who might be within reach.
“HAMATI!” Help me...
Tendrils of smoke began to rise from her body, everywhere she looked her flesh was blistering and bubbling. She was boiling alive. “HAMATI!”
“It’s no use fighting it, Sarratum. For you have been anointed with the blessings of the heavens.”
With effort she looked up at the approaching group of warlocks priests, their dark robes and distinct headdress declaring them each a member of the Kalum, the faction of priests assigned to serve as ambassadors of the nine temples to the masters of Asurim. She was in so much pain it took her a moment to register the meaning behind their words. Blessed. They’d had the net drenched in holy oil. Its potent celestial energy nullifying her magic, purifying her essence while burning her body.
“TRAITORS. I will have you skinned alive for this.”
They closed in on her as she spoke, a few dragging a secondary net behind them which was tossed over the first. Thick beads of oil came dripping down like acid, her nose filled with the scent of her own scorched flesh.
“Born from the seeds of betrayal an unholy union shall be consummated, heralding the end of times…”
The first verse to the ancient prophecy of destiny spoken in judgment, revealing that which had transpired between her and Cassius had not gone as unnoticed as she’d hoped.
“You have left us no choice Sarratum but to end your life, thus preventing the unfolding of the apocalypse. The Horsemen will never ride, your fire will never burn us, not if we destroy you first.”
Where was Berith? Where were the guards? Had they too turned against her?
She needed to free herself from these nets, but with the added weight and her waning strength, she couldn’t even manage to lift her head off the stone floor. She needed more divine energy, needed her magic if she were to escape. How could her ancestors have wielded such legendary powers, when she couldn’t save her realm or even escape a few blessed nets.
Focus... reach out Asurim’s essence and summon it. There was so little left of it to tap into.
Still, she poured everything she had into her summons, fighting off panic as her body began to spasm and twitch violently upon the cool stone, not from fear, but a result from burned tendons.
Running out of time.
They were closing in, some of the priests pulling at the nets, reeling her in as if she were the catch of the day instead of their regent Sarratum. The remainder of them formed a circle, watching as she struggled, withdrawing their Athames from their belts.
Focus. Connect damn it!
A rush of energy rippled through her fingertips.
Contact.
“She is pulling from the Realm, kill her, kill her now!”
Raw power linked with her own, and for a moment she was too stunned to react.
It wasn’t the infernal power of the Nessus answering her summons, nor was it the divine energy she’d stored within Asurim. It was something else, the imprint of the source raw, powerful and volatile, but not evil or corrupted, and therefore left impervious to the power of celestial purification. She’d sensed its equal only once before when again her magic had been depleted and her life had been in peril.
Please don’t summon the Draugr, not that, not ever again.
There were no Draugr, instead she stared in shock as the chains began to split against her with loud clinks, energy sparking along the metal links with a charge reminiscent of a live wire. Transfixed by the unusual phenomena, she failed to notice the priest who’d acted as leader move up behind, until the sharp edge of his blade was pressed against her throat.
“I claim your life, Amara of Asurim. And your throne.”
“SABBATU SUNNU. Seize them!”
A circle of green flames flared around her as the fury-fueled sound of Berith’s voice thundered through the hall, a small army of warriors surrounding the Kalum priests.
“Release the Sarratum!”
Instead, she felt the cut of the blade slide across her throat, causing sticky warmth to run down her chest. The priest behind her let out an ear-piercing shriek, and she gasped, then did so again, surprised to discover she could still breathe. The athame dropped to the floor beside her as the priest flailed in panic, the sleeve of his robe ablaze with green fire.
With as much
force she could muster she rammed the top of her head into his chin, the force sending him sprawling backward. She quickly forced her uncooperative body away from the greedy flames, making herself as small as physically possible while watching the still screaming priest slowly being consumed by Hexafire.
“Sarratum, look at me, please… look at me”
Her Dominus was standing over her, his robes both soaked and singed; the stench of blood and death clinging to him.
“Where were you?” She’d wanted to sound outraged, but the sound she managed nothing more than a pitiful whimper.
“Get that fucking monk back here this instant!” he bellowed to someone in the distance before returning his attention to her, his dark eyes wild and panicked. “We’ve been busy cleaning house. There have been revolts in all nine dominions. They fear the prophecy.”
“I know.” This was her fault, what she and Cassius set in motion only fueled superstitions of that antiquated doomsday prophecy. She hadn’t cared they’d all burn, hadn’t given it much thought, really. She’d just wanted to be with him, safe and free at last.
“Berith, the chains were blessed... celestials.”
She tried to sit up, but agony seared hotly, and the cool stone felt soothing against the burns covering her body.
“Warriors, take the Kalum priests to the arena, we will celebrate today’s victory with a public execution. Have each of them skinned, disemboweled, then burned. A warning to those who’d think to betray the Sarratum of Asurim.”
“Let’s get you to the infirmary and have that vile stuff rinsed off, then you can tell me everything that transpired, from the beginning,” Berith said, staring off absently. “It’s been one Hell of a day, Highness.”
She let out a sigh, exhaustion and pain palpable through every inch of her being. Despite the cut and burns, it wasn’t her body that suffered most, it was her soul. She’d lost more than the trust of her people on this day. She’d lost Cassius. She knew it the moment she’d gazed into her demon’s amber eyes and seen regret flood those fiery depths.