by A. K. Koonce
Harsh breaths are the only sound that lingers around us.
As I unbutton his jeans his fingers thread tightly through my hair as if he’s preparing for what’s to come.
I kiss slowly against the hard lines that veer down into his jeans. I push them down and his voice deters me for only a moment.
“What if the gods see?”
My palm strokes him from over his thin boxers and his head tips back, showing me the strong angle of his jaw.
“Then they’ll see why I keep you around, won’t they?”
His quiet laughter dies as the smooth length of his dick throbs against my palm.
I kiss innocently against his thigh and he shifts beneath me. Lightly, I hold him in my palm, pretending to forget his dick entirely as I make slow work of licking up his hipbone.
“Kara.” The tormenting sound of his voice makes me bite back my smile.
I stroke slowly up his hard length as I drag my teeth lightly against his cut stomach.
Still I keep his dick as an afterthought in my actions.
Another slow roll of my wrist has him rocking against my palm. The coiling energy within me is pent up and I make sure to push it all into him in one heaping shove.
“Fuck, Kara. Please.” He holds my head in his hands, pulling my hair but not forcing me where he wants me most.
My name is a rasping sound that circles the room and sends a tingling feeling all through me. I love the angsty way he always says my name.
After a few more drawn out seconds, I push his boxers down his throbbing length. With a smile, I kiss the tip of his dick. I hold his gaze and he’s committed to holding my hair back to see every second. His rapt attention burns across my features. My tongue swirls over the smooth tip, taking my time tasting him. As my lips wrap around his length, gliding down him as far as I can go, he gives a growling groan.
My palm works up and down his shaft until his tip hits the back of my throat. My eyes flutter closed as my thighs shift, thinking about him there, hard and throbbing. I refocus that coiling energy back into him. I feel it flood through him and he fists my hair hard as his hips thrust against my mouth.
And after only a few short minutes, warmth seeps across my tongue and he stills beneath me. I suck hard making his breath even more ragged when I swallow.
“Fuck, that was embarrassingly quick.” He releases my messy hair and pushes his hands over his face.
I lick up his shaft before rolling my tongue across my swollen lips, and he watches my every move with hooded eyes.
“That—” He pulls at my hand, bringing me down against his chest. His lips press slowly against mine. His eyes are wide with amazement. “I make you feel all that shit?”
I nod. “So much more.”
He groans.
“Never do that again.” Another slow kiss presses to my lips.
“What?” I can’t help but kiss him back, the demanding energy in me swirling once again. “Why not?”
His arms wrap around me as his tongue flicks leisurely against mine.
“Because if that’s how good I make you feel, I don’t ever want you to give it away.” His eyes hold mine. “If I had known that’s what it really felt like for you, I would have made it my job to fuck you every single day. Promise me you’ll never give that feeling away. Don’t waste it on me. Promise me you’ll keep it for yourself.”
A small smile tilts my lips as he kisses me like I mean the world to him.
I make no promises though.
Chapter Eight
A Mistake
The following morning, I don’t wait to see what spectacular game Loki is plotting. Once everyone is ready, I take Darrio’s big hand in mine. Ryder grips Daxdyn’s shoulder and with a simple nod we vanish from the quiet bedroom.
A cloud of dust storms around me as the four of us land in the arena from yesterday. The crowd is small but it is still early. They gather, taking their seats as a few of them point down at the four fae who wait with a ready stance for whatever the day might bring.
Unfortunately, Loki is nowhere in sight. Baldur, unfortunately, is.
With leisurely steps, he strides over to the four of us.
“You’re a little early this morning.” His gaze seems permanently held on me.
“I didn’t particularly care for the way my men were escorted yesterday.” My jaw locks shut as I tip my chin up at the god.
A small smile creases his features.
“My brother does have a flair for the dramatic.”
What is Baldur’s story?
What pawn is he in this play?
“I hope you’ve prepared for today.” His features smooth into a serious look that almost makes me regret wasting my night blowing Dax instead of preparing.
Well, can’t win them all I suppose.
“Of course we’ve prepared.” Confidence tinges my voice even as a coughing laugh shakes through Daxdyn.
“Good. Then you’ll have absolutely nothing to worry about.”
“Absolutely nothing.” I’m a fucking parrot of false confidence right now.
“Good luck.” He nods politely, genuinely even. “I hope you get the help the mortals need, Zakara.” His words are spoken so pointedly it sinks suspicion right through me.
Only when he’s several feet away does anyone speak.
And it is, of course, a question of utmost importance.
“You think he wants to fuck her?” Dax asks under his breath.
“At first, I did. Now I have no fucking idea.” Ryder’s tone holds confusion that I feel deep within myself even.
Half an hour of dwelling on it is all I’m allowed.
Loki flashes in with that annoying sneer of happiness.
“Good morning, my little fae. I’m pleased to see you here so early and prepared.” A very obvious wink is passed my way.
My lips curl at the hinting sound of his voice.
Loki is the one watching us.
Well, I hope he enjoyed the show. He must think I’m really powerful making Dax come that fast. Yes, I really use my magic for the better good.
I don’t know what he gains from watching us.
I originally thought it was a perverted set up, and now I’m wondering if it’s just another game for the gods. A ploy to study us, watch us, and mock us.
“We actually have rather important things to be doing in the mortal realm. If we could just move along with the day’s festivities.” My hands plant firmly on my hips.
“Oh, I do like your enthusiasm.” He nods a manic shake of his head. “This morning, I thought I’d go a little easy on you. Give some of you a break.”
With a wave of his wrist the three men at my side disappear. I gasp, hating how this god has the ability to rip away the only happiness I have in my life.
Yells coast through the air and I know what’s happening before I see it. Daxdyn, Darrio and Ryder land in pile within the stadium of the colosseum. An older woman gasps at the sight of the men lying at her feet. Her lip curls as if they’re pigeon droppings instead of a mound of sexy fae men.
With annoyed looks lining their faces, they stand. Ryder brushes off his jeans and I see Dax mumble something but they’re too far away from me to hear.
“Your men are impressive. The finest ones you could have chosen. But we all know you are the one holding this war together. If you want help from the gods, you must earn it yourself.” His eyes narrow on me and before I can even reply, he’s gone. The wind sweeps him away. I turn, searching the seats for the tormenting god.
He stands with a pleased smile pressed to his lips, right next to Darrio, Daxdyn, and Ryder.
Darrio stares hard at the side of Loki’s face. I can see it in his stormy eyes; he’s plotting the god’s death.
If anyone possessed the rage to murder a god, it’d probably be Darrio.
The doors at the far end of the gate are still closed. Gods and goddesses continue to take their seats. I have five minutes at least.
Small puffs
of dirt billow up from my stalking steps as I make my way over to the three men watching me intently.
“You’re going to do fine,” Ryder says with assuredness. He leans against the edge of the brick, his arms folding as he stares down at me in my little shit hole pit.
“I know. I’ll be fine.”
Daxdyn looks less convinced. Honestly if he just pretended to believe in me, it’d really help.
“Thanks for the burst of confidence, Dax.” I glare up at him, the sun hitting my eyes and shadowing his smooth features.
“You’ll do fine,” he echoes in a quiet voice. He looks like he wants to wrap me up in a safety blanket and never let me go.
“Thanks.” I shake my head at him and just as I’m about to walk away a deep rumbling voice pulls at my attention.
“Whatever comes out of that gate isn’t a match for my fucking human.”
My head tips up to starry eyes. Darrio’s gaze skims to my lips before trailing to the scar against my neck.
I know he’s just saying it to boost my confidence, but he also knows I’m not the headstrong, breakable human I was just a few weeks ago.
I might be immortal for all we know.
And I guess we’re about to find out.
The walls shake as the gate at the far end of the arena opens. It pulls back like the mouth to hell. The simple sight of it makes my heartbeat kick up into an impossible speed. Magic swarms my veins, prepared for whatever horde of creatures Loki has prepared today.
My fingers wrap one by one around the hilt of my sword. With swift movements, I pull the blade from my belt. My spine stiffens as my eyes lock onto the open space within the walls.
I search every inch of the shadows for what lies beyond.
Nothing.
Nothing is there.
No rushing creatures scurry from the darkness to attack me.
My sword lowers and I take a single step forward.
When his massive bare foot hits the dirt, dread sinks through me. It’s nearly the size of my arm. An odd coloring clings to his flesh, like blood is laying forgotten and thick just beneath his dry skin.
Tattered jeans are all he wears and when his gaze meets mine, I nearly vomit. His crumbled and beaten skull is sunken and deformed, but he stares back at me as if he feels nothing.
The man’s strong build nearly fills the wide expanse between the walls. He slowly walks forward, taking his time and peering up at the roaring crowd with confusion in his blue eyes.
“My glorious friends, thank you for joining us this morning.” Loki’s introduction is a bit later than I expected. “Our one and only, Druw was available for entertainment today. For those of you who don’t know,” Loki’s attention falls to me, an amused smile clings to his lips, “Druw was once a fae who came to me for help.”
My stomach turns and I step back to get a better look at the god. My shoulder’s hit the far wall as I look up at the god of mischief and realize what a terrible mistake I have made.
“Druw was a fae who came to me and asked for everlasting life.” The crowd chimes in with laughter at just the right time and Loki soaks up their adoration. “And so, after winning a few tasks I set before him, I granted his request.” With every word Loki speaks, terror shakes through me. This was a mistake. “I granted him everlasting life just as mankind was starting to bloom. And look at him now, prospering from my gifts. Isn’t that right, Druw?”
Druw looks lifelessly up at the god with a glazed and possibly blinded eye. He looks up at the god who granted him an endless and terrible life.
My hand shakes against the wall and I barely turn my back on the crowd before vomit spews from my mouth. It burns up my throat with vengeance.
My fingers fist in my palm and I bring it to my lips. I wipe away the mess and turn back to the god still smiling down on me.
“Druw, meet Kara.” Loki instructs the fae with slow and annunciated words. Druw’s hulking neck swings his head toward me unsteadily. “Druw, if Kara wins today, I’ll grant her request, just like I did for you. Do you want that? Do you want me to help her like I helped you?”
As if those words trigger something in Druw’s mind, the fae’s enormous feet storm across the dirt. The dust billows up around his heavy steps like the start of a sand storm.
My wings expand without effort. They arch behind me, threatening to pull me from Druw’s grasp if needed.
I raise my sword and my gaze widens as I realize how quickly he makes his way across the lengthy arena. I raise the blade and sweep it through the air just when he’s near enough.
I put every ounce of strength into that blow.
I’m jarred when the fae grips the shining blade in his fist, stopping the attack with ease. Swollen blue eyes stare curiously at me. The left one is bloodshot and graying around the iris. This monstrous man is fisting my sharp blade as if it’s nothing but an annoyance to him. For a second, I just gape at him. Until his fist tightens. With a tiny and insignificant move, he bends the length of my blade into an L shape.
An angry gasp falls from my lips at the sight of the angled blade.
“What the fuck?”
I jerk it away from his mammoth paws. The fae sways slightly as he stares down at me, blocking out the sun behind him.
Fury storms through my chest and with more anger than I’ve felt in years, I slam the bent blade through his bulky chest. I have to angle the attack in an unusual way because of the damage he’s done on the beautiful blade.
Most of it sinks in. Stopping where the blade arches at a different angle. The hilt of it sticks out of him like a bent nail sunk into an old board.
Fucking dungeon troll.
I’m pouting and stomping around. I’m weaponless while I circle the most dangerous opponent the gods could have found for me.
Tristan had my blade in his possession for days and no harm came of it. This asshole touches it for a second and destroys it like a toothpick.
As Druw looks down at the blade plunged into his chest his features fall. More so than usual.
His lip curls, revealing nubs of rotted teeth. His gaze drifts to me and before I can even shield myself he grips my wing.
I lunge to run but he only tightens his grasp. The fine bones break beneath his powerful grip and I wince from the feel of the stabbing pain prickling down my spine.
With a growl, he hurls my body against the wall. My shoulder hits hard, my soft wings taking most of the impact. Grit scrapes against my bare shoulder, tearing slightly at the skin. My cheek stings against the blow and I know it’ll bruise quickly.
A deep breath fills my lungs and I stand slowly on swaying legs.
Druw shakes his head and takes a few steps back, my blade still protruding from his chest. Not a drop of blood coats the wound.
“Druw,” I take another short breath, realizing how much my lungs hurt, “I don’t want to hurt you, Druw.”
His wobbling head turns to me once more. A sadness is etched into the depths of his gaze. It’s like it’s pouring from him. It might be all he feels, if nothing else.
His footsteps pound against the dirt as he looms over me. With magic coursing through me, I shudder away from him. I take a moment to catch my breath as I play cat and mouse with an ancient corpse the gods have graciously kept alive.
He trails after me. From one flicking place to the next.
This is embarrassing.
I can’t seem to kill him. I can only dodge him.
How will this end?
I lean against the far wall, my palm planted against the warm brick as I take another short but much needed break.
How did I get this out of shape?
I could use a nap.
A nap sounds wonderful right now.
Ryder and Daxdyn flicker in, scaring the hell out of me.
My heart pounds hard as I glare up at the two of them.
“Dax insisted I bring him down here.” Ryder shrugs and I avert my glare to the fae at his side.
“I’m a little busy
right now, Dax.” I peek over his shoulder at my opponent who’s stomping toward us.
“Busy playing hide and seek? When he gets his hands on you he’s going to toss you around like an uninflated ball. You’re just pissing him off.”
“What do you suggest?” My lips purse together hard. I mentally calculate how much time we have before Druw gets here and tosses me around like a damn deflated ball.
“I suggest you start protecting your core a little more.”
My core?
He’s worried about my core of all things?
I shove my hair back from my face and then stop, not moving an inch as his words circle my mind.
“Thanks, Dax.” My lips barely brush the angle of his jaw before I shudder away once more.
My body becomes solid when I’m just in front of Druw, poised a few feet above him. Channeling Loki’s magic, my fingers arch against the breeze and I pull him off the ground slightly, making him meet me half way. I put as much strength as I possess into slamming my body down on him. My boots meet the hilt of my sword tucked close to his abdomen, and I kick off hard from the weapon embedded in his chest.
And just as I had hoped, it tears through his abdomen. Right through his core.
The strong blade rips through the fae’s internally rotting organs and they fall in a splattering heap between his feet.
He lands hard on his knees, sloshing the mess and stench of his organs. I swallow back the smell of it and force myself to finish what I started.
Thick, dark blood coats the hilt of the sword as I pick it up. My jaw clenches, my palms holding tight to the damaged blade in my hands. I sweep the sword up with a mixture of strength and powerful magic.
It slices up through his ribs. The muscles of my arms tense as I force the blade through his shoulders and neck. I step past him as he lands face down in the bloody dirt with a hollow sounding thud.
I shudder away from it all. Away from the applause and away from the lingering stench of a centuries old death.
Chapter Nine
The Gift of Sacrifice
I land hard in the grassy expanse of paradise that we first walked in to. My knees hit the soft ground and my stomach heaves. It forces up the pent-up smell of that fae’s flesh and blood. For a few moments, my body rejects everything in my stomach until there’s nothing left.
