by M J Marstens
Of course, I manifest another concert and the soft instrumental melody echoes in the valley around me.
I sigh at how damn romantic it is.
And then trip over my flowing dress.
Down the hill I roll, a ball of pink skin, blond hair, and teal cloth.
After what seems like forever, I land in a sprawled heap at Arawn’s feet, my limbs twisted around my body grotesquely. I feel like a mummy, encased in my dress and hair, but it’s actually a good thing. The binding stops me from moving, which helps me to not throw-up everywhere.
Whelp, so much for seducing the God of Death and All Things Dark and Sexy.
I struggle for a moment and finally decide the damages done to the dress aren’t worth fucking with and simply wish it gone, subtlety be damned. A sigh of relief escapes my lips, as my right arm had been nearly pinned behind my head and my left leg bent at an odd angle, bound to my right thigh. Only I can defy all scientific logic and get myself into conundrums like this.
Well, since I’m naked, I decide to work it. I position myself in a sinuous stretch and grin coquettishly up at Arawn.
Arawn stares down blankly.
Like, literally, his eyes are blank, vacant pools of nothingness.
I realize that statement is redundant, but I’m emphasizing the creepiness of it. His eyes look like Vesta’s. Oh, and Ceres’, Pallas’, and Juno’s eyes.
“Arawn?” I ask.
“Zahra?” he questions me in the same sexy Irish accent that makes my toes curl. “What happened? How did you get here?”
“It’s a long story. And I. . . uh, rolled down the hill.”
“Damn, you’ve been blinded, too. I’m so sorry, but don’t panic, my other senses have grown exponentially. It’s from being in Sunny’s domicile without being a Luminary.”
I realize he thinks I fell down because I can’t see. . . I can’t decide if I’m offended or not. I mean, it does seem like something I would do, but fuck if I need to admit that out loud.
“I. . .I can see, Arawn.”
He seizes my upper arms and lifts me up to him. It’s unnerving to look into his sightless eyes because he looks at me with such intensity upon his face, I swear he can see me.
“You are pure luminescence. How did this happen?”
“How do you know this?”
“I told you, my other senses have become stronger. That includes my powers. As God of Death and Darkness, the shadows speak to me. They have become my eyes. Now, please explain what has happened. I can feel Death. I am its Lord and Master and I know something is amiss.”
CHAPTER 17
PLUTO
Being the God of Death and Renewal, as well as secrets, has its upsides. And of course, its downsides, like fighting off a curse made from darkness. The material of space and time from which Lina wove her binding magic is of the same essence from where all shadows and secrets reside and in that quiet, Death sits and waits.
But death is not the end.
This is what humans do not understand. Death is just the beginning. It is the phoenix, rising from the ashes to create new life again. And I am this creator, but Lina has robbed me of this lightness, this purpose. Her curse has only drawn me closer to the darker side. Zahra has done much to alleviate the progression of the curse, but upon my entering the twelfth dimension, it halted completely.
Of course, someone as dark as myself is not meant for a kingdom of light. My own domicile is a place of muted light; the sun there is weak in comparison to other realms. Being one with Death and the shadows, I already knew Lina’s intent when she enacted her powers to split us up. Her hope was to weaken us; to make us rethink our decision to be with Zahra. Her other intent was to kill our Venus.
What Lina didn’t realize, and never has realized, is that even split up, my brothers will always find a way to come back together. We are bonded together in a way that’s even stronger than our soul bonds with Lina. Also, her attempt to weaken us failed, individually speaking. She sent me to Sunny’s realm because it’s the complete opposite of mine, but it’s also made of pure energy.
Anyone who enters this dimension forfeits their sight, but gains insight in exchange. Unless they are a Luminary being, no one can behold the beauty of this realm; but the toll you pay to enter is little compared to the wisdom and strength bestowed upon the visitor. Even when I still resided in my own domicile, I never felt this fortified. Every skill, every attribute of my godhood, has been enhanced.
The shadows do not even need to whisper to me anymore, which is fortunate since there are none in this dimension. I told Zahra that the shadows whispered to me of her light, but in reality, I can feel it in her presence. I wait for Zahra to tell me more, though. Unfortunately, the twelfth realm does not grant omniscience.
“Nyam and Kane gave me their Luminary powers, and those mixed with Kane’s expansion powers, have made me even more powerful than when Nyam was the only Luminary.”
“Why did Jupiter have Luminary powers?” I ask in confusion.
“He stole them from Lina,” Zahra says with a shrug in her voice.
“What are you doing?” I ask the distracted sounding woman.
“Trying to make myself teal,” is the crazy response I get.
I don’t bother asking for an explanation as to how Jupiter took Lina’s Luminary energies. I can guess well enough. Just as I don’t need Zahra to tell me my expansive brother is gone, as is my light brother. I felt their god-forms cease to be the second they dissolved into essence. What I cannot figure out, though, is why Zahra is trying to make herself teal.
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why are you making yourself teal?” I ask in vexation, wishing I could see.
“Because Pallas is rockin’ magenta and it’s not fair.”
I struggle to understand.
“If you’re jealous that Pallas is pink, then why are you trying to make yourself teal?”
“Because I’m already pink. Duh.”
I sigh deeply and comment out loud, “I wish you came with a handbook.”
Her surprised laugh echoes in the valley around us, and I smile at the carefree sound.
“What’s so funny?”
“I remember wishing for the same damn thing a lifetime ago. . . back when we were in Arizona. I was even going to check the resort gift shop to see if it had one,” she giggles again. “I guess women really are from Venus and men are from Mars. Or Pluto. Or Saturn, Jupiter, Uranus, Mercury, Neptune, and the Sun.”
I chuckle at her silliness. While I’m not of the same stern discipline as Saturn, death and rebirth are still very serious business. There has not been much to laugh about.
“You know,” Zahra says. “I think that is the first time I have ever heard you laugh! You should do it more often; I love the sound of it. But not as much as I love your accent. Come to think of it, why do you still have a brogue?”
Her comment takes me by surprise. I hadn’t realized I was still speaking with an accent, especially considering we were speaking Zodian. I assess my thought processes for a reason, and I’m intrigued to learn that it has been a subconscious attempt to please my Venus. Lina was so very hard to make happy, but Zahra takes pleasure in the simple things.
My accent reminds her of home, and I instinctively knew this.
It’s scary how quickly she burrowed her way into my heart- into all our hearts.
I realize now that even when we thought she was Lina, Zahra the Human was making an impression. Sun and Merc knew it, though. They recognized the light in Zahra even before we knew who she was. It wasn’t difficult to give Venus my heart because Zahra had already won it. I meant it when I said I loved her; I do love Zahra, and that’s what’s so dangerous about her.
She could have been Lina and made us all fall for her human incarnation.
I think about this and acknowledge that it’s not entirely true. Because of her curse, Lina has never encouraged ‘lighter’ feelings in us. The curse makes us darker,
and therefore, unable to love. I don’t know if Lina even realized this aspect, but she practically made it impossible for us to reciprocate any true loving emotion.
Zahra, though, slowed Lina’s curse. As the Goddess of Love and Beauty, she made it possible for us to feel again. And it’s for that reason, I believe, that we fell in love with her; because our souls recognized the light in her as our counterpart. She is the other half to our incompleteness.
She is our soul mate.
“I never thought I would say this, because I hate Barney, but you make purple the sexiest fucking color ever. And that smile kind of melts my heart. What’s it for?”
Her words bring me out of my thoughts.
“It’s for you,” I say simply.
I wait for her response, but instead feel her push into my arms. Even blinded, I can tell this woman is stunning, as I slip my hands possessively over her curves. She purrs under my touch and I growl like an animal in need. She arches into my body and I bury my face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent deeply while trying to regain my self-control.
Of course, she challenges this by rolling her hips and turning her face into mine.
“Zahra, we need to talk ab-”
Her mouth silences mine, and I kiss her like a starving man.
Which I am.
Starved for love.
For compassion, trust, affection.
The darkness of death repels many. Even in human form, people recognized the shadows within me and gave me a wide berth. Only my brothers feel comfortable in my presence.
But Zahra accepts me.
“Mo shíorghrá, I want this more than you can possibly know, but why are you here?”
“I came to get you. And to power up. Once fully charged, we are going direct and meeting back on Earth. We really need to focus on breaking the curse,” she mumbles between kisses.
Her body undulates against mine and it’s becoming difficult to breathe, let alone think.
“Ok. Do you think we should talk fir-”
She puts me out of my misery when she whispers, “No.”
CHAPTER 18
ZAHRA
As soon as I give Arawn the green light, he changes completely. I pull back a bit, as he seems to swell in size. I realize it’s the darkness he spoke of- Death is a part of him. And fuck me, Death is one sexy-ass mofo. Who knew, right? The gentle man who spoke to me seconds before vanishes, and in his place is a sex god.
I might be the Goddess of Sex, but this man right here is the epitome of the word.
Mars is the masculine to my feminine sexuality, but Pluto. . . Pluto is the dark, the sinful, the taboo. He’s the kind of sex that ties you up and makes you bleed, even as you cry for more. And fuck if my own twisted proclivities don’t perk up at the prospect.
Arawn appears to be a foot taller, and black wisps of smoke dance around him sinuously. The dusky purple of his skin has darkened, as well, and his sightless eyes shine like a beacon against the dark contrast of his hair. Like the others, his body is a muscled machine, but there is a dancer’s grace to his movements.
I realize it’s seduction, his movements.
I wonder if I move in the same manner.
Tethers of his shadows reach towards me, and wrap themselves lithely around my wrist, binding them together.
I can feel my mouth form an O of surprise.
Shit, I know I just said I expected this, but not immediately.
I mean, we literally just had our first kiss minutes ago.
The other, more rational side of Zahra looks on with pity at my stupidity.
She already knew where this was going and is waiting to be ball-gagged.
“Um. . . do I need a safe word?” I ask hesitantly, when I feel Arawn’s darkness drawing me closer into the curve of his muscles.
“Of course,” he answers authoritatively. “The safe word is There is no motherfucking safe word. You’re the Goddess of Sex. You can handle anything I throw your way and more. Now, hold on.”
What the fuck do you even say to something like this?
Nothing really, so I just sit back and enjoy the ride.
Arawn tugs the phantom chain and I fall to my knees. Even though he can’t see me, he growls his approval. And fuck if I don’t growl mine, because staring me in the face is his monster cock. It’s such a deep purple and the tip glistens with pre-cum. I can’t help myself as I sweep an inquisitive tongue over the tip, tasting him.
The dude needs a Campbell’s soup label on him.
He’s mm-mmmm, delicious.
Arawn releases the shadow rope to grip my hair and control my movements.
Either he’s very impatient or very horny, because he doesn’t fuck around.
With a punishing hold and pace, he slams his cock deep into the back of my throat repeatedly. I bite down lightly to gain a semblance of control, but the action only seems to make him even more frenzied. Tears stream down my face, unchecked, and I force myself to relax against his assault.
He’s like a man possessed and the noises he makes drive me wild with need.
The need to have him inside of me.
I try talking around a mouthful of cock, but only humming vibrations and slurping gibberish can be heard. It’s in that moment of resistance that I realize Arawn is testing me. I don’t even think he knows what he’s doing, but I do.
It’s more than just him asserting his sexual dominance over me.
It’s about him unleashing his true self.
No sooner than I think this and submit, that the shadows swarm us.
In seconds, we are cocooned in darkness.
Arawn slows down and finally pulls out of my mouth. I feel the bindings loosen, but not disappear and I wait for his next command. His eyes shine in the dark and he runs his hands up and down my torso. Finally, he says something, but not in a language I recognize.
Instantly, my hands are bound again and I feel myself being propelled downward and back, until I am supine on the ground. My arms are stretched above my head and I feel my ankles become shackled, as well. Thankfully, it does nothing to impede Arawn’s position between my legs.
Again, he speaks in his mysterious tongue and my body is engulfed in sensation.
I’m on fire.
But the touch is icy.
I’m burning up.
But it’s a cold flame.
I’m so damned turned-on and confused, my poor brain doesn’t know what to tell my body to do. Thankfully, my body tells my brain to shut up. I stop trying to process everything and simply revel in Arawn’s presence.
“You’re so beautiful. I can see your soul shining, even blinded,” he whispers, still staring down on me.
My heart catches in my throat.
Of my man-gods, he seemed the most distant from me, but upon learning I was Venus, he was the first to pledge his love.
I had scoffed at it then.
Now I know I was wrong.
Arawn does love me and I need to show him that I love him back.
I arch my body up in invitation and he accepts greedily.
Slamming into my aching pussy, he finally combines us together, and in that second, I pour all my acceptance and love I have for him out. In my head, I whisper tae ickum leevum. In my heart, I whisper tae ickum leevum. And on my tongue, I whisper tae ickum leevum.
He carries me away into a world of pure sexual awareness. Every thrust is a sensuous scraping against my walls and every retreat an agonizing thrill waiting for him to return. We flow together like the tide, a rhythmic dance that soon reaches its peak.
I come hard, my pussy muscles clamping fiercely around his dick, strangling a cry from his lips as he gives up and follows me over the edge.
The ghost bindings disappear and I curl into Arawn’s side when he collapses next to me.
I’m not convinced Lina is going to be the death of me.
These fucking guys will be.
CHAPTER 19
PLUTO
I hold Zahra’s sof
t body to mine, basking in her warmth. She is the first person to accept all of me. The good, the bad, the dark, but also my light. Lina only saw my darkness; craved it, in fact. She didn’t acknowledge the lighter side of my gifts, but Zahra takes in all I have to offer.
“Of course, I take it all in,” she comments lazily, her voice muffled against my neck.
I freeze. I hadn’t spoken out loud.
Then I feel her tense.
“Think something crazy,” she commands.
I do just that. She busts up laughing.
“You’re still trying to figure out what a Taco Bell is?! I told you, don’t.” She sighs unhappily then, “How did we soul bond?”
Fuck if I know, I think.
She laughs again, and I adore the carefree sound.
“I think it happened when we were. . .” I trail off.
Making love sounds corny, but fucking sounds crass.
“When we were fucking making love?” she supplies, and I grin.
“Yeah, it must have happened then. I think. . . I think it’s because you accepted me completely. You have my heart.”
“You mean that figuratively, right?”
I roll my eyes.
“Of course, ya wee flute.” I tease.
“Did you just call me a little dick?!” She asks incredulously. “I’ll have you know that I have a monster dick!”
“What?” I asked confused. “No, flute means idiot in Irish slang. Like eejit. How the feck did you confuse that with knob? And lass, I think I would have noticed if you had a cock.”
My accent thickens with my frustration.
I need Mars or another ‘with the times’ brother to help me translate.
“Uh, like a skin flute, duh. And when I manifest a dick, it’ll be a monster,” she responds primly.
Now I’m just terrified. . . do I even want clarification?
Saturn would tell me no, but Death makes a person curious. You always wonder what comes after. . .
“Why are you manifesting yourself a cock?” I finally ask in a strangled voice.
