“As I want you, husband,” she said.
“I don’t want to wait another second,” he said, taking her hands and feeling his excitement growing.
“Neither do I,” she said. “Though… you should slow down, just a mite. These markings will be permanent. I do not wish for one to be unmatching, or unevenly marked, or—”
“Right, right, I get it,” he said. “And I’ll be careful. Can we do a practice run first? Just with setting the markings.”
“It is part of the process,” she said. “Another part of it is… for us both to be naked.”
“Are you expecting me to object to that, or something?”
She flashed a teasing scowl and pinched his arm. “Would you try to be serious, if only for the next hour?”
“I suppose I could try,” he said. “We should also talk about what I found at the shrine while it’s still fresh in my mind.”
He told her of encountering Austine, searching the shrine, and with a few details abridged, his new ability to summon ice elementals. Ria’s expression was thoughtful and pensive as Damon untied the back of her dress and slowly pulled it down, exposing her plump, tanned breasts.
“There is more to this situation than what we see,” she said. “We may be here in Yvvestrosai for longer than we expected.”
“We can’t stay forever,” said Damon. “We have to get back to aesta and Vel. Would Ayisa or the Athlatak object to you leaving if it were to tend to family matters?”
Ria shook her head. “I doubt they would try to stop me. Their position is more… tenuous than I first realized. I think they summoned me here to Yvvestrosai not out of a want to display their power to me, but of a genuine desire for an ally without prior affiliation.”
“Well, at least in that, we’re not picking through innumerous layers of deceit.” Damon pulled the dress the rest of the way off, letting his hungry gaze linger as Ria crossed her naked legs and shifted on the bed.
“The matridai supplies are in the satchel on the table,” she said. “But husband… you must be naked, too.”
“If I’m naked for this, too, it might take us longer to get to the point.”
She flashed a tiny, mischievous smile. “Are we in a rush?”
“No. We have all night.”
Damon took his clothes off slowly, feeling increasingly turned on by the weight of Ria’s gaze. He pulled his undershorts off with a deliberately slow motion, savoring her reaction as his cock came into view. In so many ways, she was already his wife, long since claimed and broken in. He knew every inch of her, and still, she excited him.
“Start with the oil paint,” said Ria in a sensual voice. “Practice a bit with your matridai. You have not forgotten how to make your own mark, have you, husband?”
“Oh, I remember,” he said. “I think practice would still be helpful.”
He found a wooden vial full of oil paint in the satchel and pulled the cork loose. Ria looked as though she was suppressing a grin as he walked back toward the bed.
“Roll over,” he said.
“What?”
“I might need to draw the matridai a few times,” he said. “Best if I make full use of your body as a canvas.”
“Mmm…” she hummed, with interest. “That does make sense.”
She rolled onto all fours, stretching like a cat waking from a nap, before slowly settling down onto her stomach. Damon climbed onto the bed and ran his hands across her back, letting his rapidly stiffening cock nestle within the cleft of her buttocks.
“Are you going to paint my back, husband?”
“To start. You’ll be covered by the time I’m finished.”
“You enjoy making a mess, no?” she whispered.
“More than you know.”
He let some of the paint dribble onto his fingers as he humped into her with subtle movements, recalling his matridai mark from memory. A swooping, stylized D which he’d need to reverse to match on each cheek. An elegant, curling line underneath, meaningless in terms of letters, but overflowing with meaning in terms of his love for her.
“Mmm…” she whispered. “It feels warm.”
“Good.”
He drew the matridai a second time, rocking his hips back and forth as his throbbing erection began to steal and hold his attention. He drew it a third time, reversed, right on the small of her back, a spot which he’d made messy so very many times before.
"I’ve almost got it,” he said. “Flip over. I want to use your front.”
“It is yours to use as you please, husband.”
He wiped her back off with a cloth to keep from staining the bed, and Ria flipped over. Her eyes were entirely fixated on his cock, and Damon got the distinct sense that they’d need to roll around for a bit to clear their heads enough to actually go through with the matridai ceremony.
“Which part of me are you going to mark next, young Damon?”
She slowly, teasingly, opened her thighs for him. Damon slid forward, nearly penetrating her as they continued their strange game of teasing and painting. He let his cock lie across her crotch and stomach, lounging in the silky hairs adorning her womanhood like an animal relaxing in the grass.
Damon drew his matridai again on her stomach with fast, confident motions. Ria bit her lip and rocked her hips forward. He reached out, cupping her breasts, matching her undulations, throbbing with lust.
They shared a kiss that was like the first spark of a wildfire, instantly setting off a rolling series of hot, passionate touches and movements. Damon caressed her chin with his thumb, holding her neck tenderly for no other reason than that he could. She trusted him to touch her there, to touch her anywhere, just as he trusted her.
The matridai was forgotten, or at least set aside, as he fell forward onto her. It wasn’t just about pleasure or lust with Ria. The emotions ran deeper and older than that, memories and history all bundled together and merely tied with the ribbon of arousal.
She flexed her hips up into him as he found an even pace. Each thrust sent a sensual wave flowing through the softness of her body, breasts swaying to the rhythm, hair a messy banner across the pillow.
He leaned forward to kiss her. She pulled him into a full body embrace, hugging him as much like her lover… as her younger sibling. It was a protective, loving embrace, full of sweet emotions and forbidden lust.
It was Ria with her arms around him. Ria, inside whom he had his shaft buried so roughly. Ria, the woman he wanted to marry and share his life with, even though she’d been so near to him from the start.
“Damon!” she moaned. Her legs tightened around him, making his motions grind her against the bed all the much more.
He buried his face in her breasts, still thrusting even as he cuddled against her like a spoiled little boy. She kissed him on top of his head with such love and intimacy that it almost felt condescending, in the gentlest possible way.
He let his movements grow rougher, closer to the wrestling that they’d started as children and, in a much dirtier fashion, still continued as adults. Ria writhed underneath him, passion and competitiveness plain in her eyes. He pinned her arms, gave her a smirk he knew would set her off, and watched the result.
She suppressed a smile, tried to flail her arms loose, and then seemed to melt backwards into the bed as they both understood that he could dominate her like this. She shuddered, and Damon felt a distinct clamping sensation in her womanhood.
“Ria!” he cried. He thrust into her with the last of his stamina, and then unloaded.
He didn’t care enough to pull out, or maybe a part of him truly didn’t want to. Ria didn’t even bother to unwrap her legs. They hugged each other, held each other, as they both came, heedless of anything but the state of the moment and the perfection of their love.
It was a moment that, like so many other things, didn’t last. A clatter came from downstairs, and the sound of someone climbing the ladder gave them both just enough time to pull a quilt over their nude bodies.
&nbs
p; “Hello Damon, Ria,” said Wrath. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
CHAPTER 31
“You are, in fact, interrupting,” said Damon. “Go away, Clara.”
Ria’s fingers dug into his thigh underneath the quilt. Wrath seemed more amused than annoyed. She’d ditched her armor and wore a plain silk shirt with several buttons undone at the neck over black leggings. The gap emphasized her pale cleavage as she folded her arms and slowly began walking around the room.
“Now, now,” said Wrath. “I didn’t bid you to travel to the City of Flowers to spend your visit in bed, fucking your sister. I gave you a task. I wish for an update on said task.”
He suppressed a wince, wishing that she’d come to simply tease him and entertain herself, rather than get straight to business. He would have to tread carefully, despite his annoyance at her interruption.
“It’s still in progress,” said Damon. “The leads I’ve found so far haven’t panned out conclusively.”
“You’re dodging my question,” said Wrath. “Give me a straight answer. What have you investigated, and what have you discovered?”
He looked her straight in the eyes, appreciating her beauty, if not feeling a sliver intimidated. “Nothing. No cursed artifacts laying around the Athlatak’s room. No dungeon hidden underneath his favorite shrine. I have yet to find any evidence pointing toward whether we’re dealing with Malice or Craven.”
“Thank you,” said Wrath, with a small, exaggerated bow. “I appreciate your efforts, Damon. I find your conclusion to be deeply displeasing, but at least you’ve proven to me that you haven’t spent this whole time sweating under the sheets.”
Ria had slipped out of bed and into her clothes. She tossed Damon his trousers, and he hurriedly pulled them on, knowing that Wrath wasn’t done yet.
“I’m open to ideas, if you have any,” he said. “There must be another way of determining whether a person is one of your brethren. How do you usually go about finding your siblings?”
“I’m usually not the one ferreting them out,” muttered Wrath. “I suppose my tactful approach is… less typical than I’ve been subjected to by the others in the past.”
Damon glanced at Ria, who made a tiny, hard-to-read gesture with one hand.
“Why not simply ask him?” she suggested.
“You wouldn’t get an answer out of him if he’s hidden himself to this point,” said Wrath.
“What I mean is why do you not ask?” said Ria. “If you revealed yourself to him, perhaps—"
“Are you fond of this city?” asked Wrath. “The houses, the people, even all the ridiculous flower trails and trees. Is it pleasing to your eyes? I want you to understand that if I did confront one of my siblings here, and speak to them as freely as needed, it’s very possible that there would be nothing… and no one… left afterward.”
Her voice was serious and somber. She wasn’t bluffing or bragging, merely stating a simple, sad fact. Damon wondered at the depth of emotion in her voice. Wrath seemed so often to have two faces, two moods, when it came to how she thought of the world and her place within it.
“Fair enough,” said Ria.
“You make a good point, though,” said Damon. “What if… I went and asked? Not for you, not as your representative, or anything so blatant. I might be able to talk to the boy and get an answer out of him.”
“What makes you think you could persuade him?” asked Wrath.
“I think…” He hesitated, considering how to put his suspicion into words. “There’s a surprising level of trust between the Athlatak and Ayisa. It’s not that I doubt that a teenage boy and his mother could be on good terms with one another, but I haven’t noticed a single point of contention between them.”
“Your point being?” asked Wrath. “If anything, this makes our task that much more difficult.”
“When I was searching the Athlatak’s room, I had to hide under the bed when someone came in,” he said. “That someone was Ayisa. She… took care of herself on his bed.”
He saw Ria and Wrath exchange a surprisingly confused glance.
“You know,” he said, feeling ridiculous. “She, ah, handled her feminine frustration.”
“She masturbated,” provided Ria. “Young Damon, you are so funny.”
Wrath let out a snort and clapped her hands together. “Now this is interesting. So, lead me through what you’re suggesting? I’m intrigued.”
“Lassus, before he becomes the Athlatak, starts remembering his old lives,” said Damon. “The newfound knowledge gives him confidence, maybe a few memories that put… unusual ideas in his head. He interacts with Ayisa differently after that, and in time, seduces her.”
“Such a relationship is a crime among the Remenai,” said Ria slowly.
“Hmm…” Wrath rubbed her thumb against her closed lips. “This wouldn’t be as unusual of a scandal as it might sound, at least for one of my siblings. It’s wild, but not outside the realm of possibility.”
“Clearly, it is not.” Ria gave Damon a long, piercing look. “It is interesting that you were able to divine all of this, Damon. Very interesting.”
He cleared his throat. “I’m not saying it with any certainty, just that it’s hard for me to imagine Ayisa doing such a lurid act on her son’s bed if there weren’t something more than the basic familial ties between them. We might be able to use this.”
“I like where your mind is at, but you haven’t thought this through completely,” said Wrath. “Do you truly suppose that Malice or Craven, when confronted with evidence of their illicit indulgence, would allow you to walk out of the room alive?”
“I would make it clear that others knew, and would reveal it if anything happened to me,” he said.
“Which would simply give them an incentive to torture you until they had the names they were seeking,” said Wrath. “No. Confronting the Athlatak is too dangerous. However, he isn’t the only one vulnerable in this scandal.”
“Yes,” said Ria. “I could arrange us a time to meet with Ayisa. She still favors me.”
“The situation is still not without danger,” said Wrath. “Assume Ayisa has taken a crest from her son. Treat her as you would Shank or Avarice’s sorcerer, or any opponent you consider to be dangerous.”
Damon nodded. “If a fight does break out, we might need you to intervene.”
“You’ll have it, to a degree,” said Wrath. “I’m not going to push one of my brothers into an alliance by force. It simply wouldn’t do. If this fails, I’ll help you leave the city.”
“You’ll owe us,” he said. “Don’t you forget that. We had a deal. I help you with this, and you help us heal Vel.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” she replied. “Keep your focus on the current situation, and we’ll get to your sleeping sister when it’s time. You should be ready for a fight, one which you’ll be taking the brunt of on your own.”
Damon looked at Ria and knew she was thinking the same thing. They would never be on their own, as long as they had each other. Wrath departed without another word, her body blurring with azure light as she left the flaqayai at intense speed.
“She is right to warn us of the danger here,” said Ria.
“I know.” He walked over to her and took her hands into his. “We likely have some time. We could keep going with what we were doing before.”
“After, husband,” she said, stroking his cheek. “Let us wait until this is settled and we are safe before letting our guard down and indulging.”
He nodded, taking her hand into his and kissing her knuckles. “We should pack our traveling bag before heading to the palace. There’s no telling how this might go.”
CHAPTER 32
They set out that same night. Ria assured Damon that Ayisa would take no offense in them arriving so late, though she suspected her warm welcome would last only to the point of them explaining their purpose.
The city felt calm and empty, despite it still being hours away from Eldritch’s zenith.
The few people they passed paid them little notice, aside from the usual glances Damon received for being a Merinian in a Remenai city.
It was snowing, a gentle ballet of white crystals descending into the windless night. The ground was coated with a few inches everywhere but the usual paths between trees and flowers, painting Yvvestrosai in serene white.
The guards outside the Water Palace recognized Ria, and though she still spent a minute speaking with them in Konokai before they were allowed inside, they were left to stand on their own within the receiving chamber.
Ayisa met them a few minutes later. She was dressed in a simple black gown and slippers, an outfit which seemed insubstantial in the barren cold of the underheated palace. She folded her hands behind her back and greeted them with a small nod.
“Ria,” she said. “Damon. I have been told that you seek an audience with me. Has something happened?”
Damon shared a glance with Ria and hoped the uncertainty he saw in her expression wasn’t reflected in his own. There was no map to follow in regard to applying leverage to the mother of an Athlatak, no easy way to begin what they’d come there to do.
“Can we speak in private?” asked Ria.
“Of course,” said Ayisa. “Follow me.”
She gestured for them to walk alongside her as they moved deeper into the palace. Ayisa seemed to either place great trust in them, or take little heed of potential danger, not bothering to bring any guards with her as she brought them up to her private chamber.
A brazier freshly filled with coals heated the room, and a bottle of wine was already open on the side table. Ayisa found two more cups in a cabinet along the floor and poured them each a glass. She said nothing, eyeing them with the patient confidence of a powerful woman who expected her guests to start explaining themselves.
“Honored mother,” said Ria. “We have heard a rumor that we felt needed to be brought to your attention. A rumor… concerning you and your son.”
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