by Eve Bradley
Another suctioned itself to Glend’s back, and he whipped around and fell, trying to tear the nearly vaporous creature from his body. Their hands held no power. Catryn grabbed the Djinn by the scalp of flaming smoke hair, and her fingers crushed its head quickly. The shape of its head caved in and crumbled as if having only ever been ash.
She jerked around, trying to see clearly. Whatever was happening, it was an enormous mistake. Djinn were running like giggling hyena’s as if this were humorous for them to taunt her. Mountains of them piled atop the men. She couldn’t work fast enough. Majmal was being consumed. The Djinn’s were tasting him, prying his mind open in order to possess him. She tried to go to the edges of the magic storm and stop the flow. She placed her hands on it, but it was too strong. Stronger than her. She gasped and cried out in distress, fear sliding over every inch of her.
She couldn’t save them. Any of them.
“Take it back!” It was Majmal’s last echo of words before the Djinn wafted through his mouth like a parasite to take over his body.
She shot blasts at them all endlessly. But they continued to reappear and reanimate. How? She freed Darrian and Glend before realizing that Valryn was standing rigidly, his back to her. When he turned around, his eyes were devoid of feeling and utterly black. In her heart, she could not feel him. The beasts had suppressed his soul.
She screamed then.
“Come here,” he demanded. “Death calls for you.”
It wasn’t him.
It was their words. The slithering smoky words of the Djinn on his tongue. She stopped and shut her eyes. This was not happening. No. Had this darkness been inside her the entire time? Had this been what was stopping her communion with the elemental magics? With the gods?
Tears formed on her lashes. Tears of wrath. She would not lose him. They were hers. Their souls belonged to the light, never darkness. She imagined the walls of the storm slowing and the haunting darkness beyond giving way to the silent Yamarian chamber they’d been in before. But nothing changed. She watched as the Djinn continued to creep through the turbulent layers, loosing themselves into the world.
Was she letting them in?
She roared again, anger flaring up around her as Valryn came towards her.
Take it back.
Catryn swung her crimson hair over her shoulder and went to him. She kissed his lips, tasted the Djinn, and pulled. She breathed the Djinn into her body. She felt it all, the formation and foundation of the entire dark bastion coming to greet her mind once more. The Djinn slipped between her lips, and then the rest of it came, unwillingly. The ash-black storm slowed and bent towards her. Every molecule headed for her body. She grit her teeth as the blackness washed over her and settled within her once more.
It was minutes before she absorbed the last of the contagion. The men were unconscious on the floors. Majmal was foaming at the lips and convulsing. She ran to Valryn.
“Please. Please,” she uttered, and pat his face with her hands.
She saw his breath and felt his heartbeat again. She could sense him too, although in a smaller way. She rushed over to Darrian and Glend. Glend’s face was bloody, and his back had been scraped and mutilated. Darrian’s arm was mangled, and he’d been beaten and bruised too. She covered her mouth and held back a sob.
Suddenly, someone was standing above her.
“What happened?”
It was General Kalif. He was backed by at least ten guards, men whose eyes were dumbstruck by the scene of blood and bodies before them.
“I don’t know,” she swallowed tightly. “I...we need healers. Get the healers!”
Kalif used both hands to force her to a stand. Both palms cupped her face and forced her to look at him.
“Catryn! What happened.”
His eyes were both beseeching and condemning.
“Majmal...” Catryn tried to calm herself, but her lungs were constricting. She looked down at her men. They were beautiful, even in their destroyed states. They were so valuable. So precious to her. She pinched her lips together to stop the sobs. They’d protected her, taught her, given up their lives for her. She’d been so close to losing them all. The sick fear of it made her nauseous.
“He tried to release the magical block in me...and...”
“It’s all right,” Kalif decided, brushing her aside. His hard fingers would leave imprints. “Let’s get them to the infirmary.”
Majmal was still rolling and sputtering in the corner.
“Is there one still inside of him?” he looked back at her, confused.
She shrugged, moving towards him.
“Save him. He’s the only one who’ll be able to help us understand what happened,” Kalif urged her.
She realized then how exhausted she felt. Her limbs ached, and her mind was muddy. Sorrow pressed her down into a dejected state of mind. She was a failure. She’d done this to them. She didn’t deserve to be near any of them.
The magic was once again difficult to access. She felt around for the healing powers in her mind, and they would not surface for her. She could do nothing for them.
Catryn exhaled sharply, approached Majmal, and set about trying to work the Djinn out of his body.
Valryn
Jurdu Palace, Yamar
Valryn felt the warm night air on his face. His body felt strangely weak, as if his muscles had shrunken despicably overnight. He shifted and searched in his mind for Catryn. The pathway to her felt raw, like it had been severed and then stitched back together. But she was there. Close.
He brushed dark stands away from his face and stayed silent. Her will hit him. The same fragrant, delicious aura he knew well from the last few months, now excessively worried. Her fear and loss of control over her emotions astounded him. Every inch of her was guilt and shame.
This tie that he could feel so strongly had not always been this strong. He found that it was something they’d had to hone in on by learning the other person. She was powerful, fiery, and now, irrationally self-loathing. He tried to reach for her in his mind. He sent her his disapproval of her attitude.
“You’re lucky to be alive. All of you are.”
Catryn’s voice was grim. He hadn’t realized that she was sitting so close. He cracked his eyes, the world coming back together sluggishly.
“And you lost your chance at becoming a true Peacequeen,” he groaned as he made a feeble attempt to sit upright.
He could see her now. She was sitting angrily in the shadows, dark brows lowered. Her pretty face seemed weathered.
“Don’t go there, Val,” she warned him. “Don’t you dare.”
“If I don’t,” he panted as he sat upright on the cot. “No one else will. You think Darrian or Glend would ever push you? I’m the only one that will.”
“I don’t need to feel your disappointment or your admonishment or anything you presume to feel,” she snapped, sitting forward to pin him with hostile eyes. “I nearly failed to keep you all alive. My own convoy. My blood.”
Valryn rolled his eyes and stretched, his limbs quivering in protest. How could she not see that she was able? Her self doubts were the only thing that forbid her from succeeding. He knew it wasn’t an ideal situation. There wasn’t much she could do. Still, imagining the darkness...whatever that was, sinking back into her divine body pushed him near violence. It shouldn’t have been there in the first place.
“You can’t save anyone if we don’t remove whatever that thing is,” he whispered.
“Yes? And do you have any ideas as to how to remove it from me?” she flexed her hands, enjoying the redundancy of her question. “I couldn’t stop the magic that had surrounded us. I could do nothing.”
“Nothing,” he repeated angrily. “You sound like you’re giving up.”
“So what if I do? I’ve always known I wasn't truly meant for this destiny. The gods chose wrong. I am what I am.”
Valryn sighed, rubbing the muscles on his neck.
“You don’t even know what
you are,” he retorted sharply.
“Oh, I do,” she smirked. “And now I’ll always know.”
Valryn shook his head. The woman was foolish.
“Catryn. Stop.”
He met her gaze, and she softened for only a fragment of a second. She stood, her dress slim and clinging to her curves. His eyes wandered over them. He held back a groan. She’d not win him over with lust. He had to hold her to a high standard. That’s what he was meant to do, wasn’t it? He was born to be her Guardian. He’d trained for year upon year. He excelled in all sorts of weaponry and tactical planning. But now he had nothing. The Djinn could slaughter him, and he could do nothing even to defend himself.
“You want a Peacequeen?” she looked down at him. “Find another. I won’t be put in that position again. I will not be responsible for your deaths...for any other deaths.”
She began to turn away, but he reached out and gripped her hand firmly.
“Don’t walk away from me, Catryn,” he said, glowering up at her. “We don’t know what this is. We don’t know how to stop them. You’re the only one who seems to hold enough power to destroy them. So? This is what the prophecies said. If you give up you’re as good as letting everyone die.”
Catryn ripped her hand away from him and looked away. He could feel that she was trying to stay strong. She swallowed and shook her head.
“You were always wrong about me. I don’t deserve any of this. I am done.”
Valryn felt weak as she tugged to be free of him. But he couldn’t let her go. Her stubborn nature and erratic self-destruction caused him to hate what he saw. Could he hate what he saw and still love her? Everything about her was ruinous to him. If he’d met her at the Citadel, on a quest, during a night out at the taverns, anywhere, he was convinced that he’d know to love her.
“Cat,” he drew her to him and wrapped his arms around her waist.
He could sense the sheer dedication to resisting him, but also, intermingled, was the depths of her desire. She wanted him, and he could feel it. In his mind, he had a thorough description of her body’s reaction to him. His cock grew hard imagining her. Hadn’t he told Glend to stop the sex and focus on the woman? To make her realize that she was so much more than just a hole for them to fuck?
She was waiting for him to move. For him to pull the trigger that would release them into a guilt-ridden lust-clouded haze of indulgence. He didn’t know if he should or could. But when he breathed in her scent, he was overcome.
He gripped the flesh of her back and drew her down.
“Don’t stop,” she told him.
Was she afraid that he would? What was his mind sending her at this moment? He knew that he often overanalyzed things. But it was a sacred moment to him. His need outweighed anything else. He couldn’t stop himself. He wanted her honey, and he wanted to fill her and feel their bodies conjoined.
Valryn kissed her, plying her lips and suckling them until she allowed him a taste of her tongue. Her excitement burst in his mind like a flame. They moved together, their lips teasing and tasting, biting, and sucking until they were breathless. She sat, legs spread on either side of his lap. God, he enjoyed her. Everything about her was seductive and perfectly formed for sexual interludes. His hands clapped over her backside, and he gripped the flesh tightly, rocking her a bit. She rubbed herself against him, letting out a soft mewl that told him she felt good.
“Don’t stop,” she repeated.
His fingers explored her thighs, tripping up them and sliding back down. He fingered the soft buttery fabric of her gown and pushed it up slowly, making her wait. He wanted her to enjoy herself. He wanted to see her enjoying plentiful orgasms. Part of him felt guilty for taking this when Darrian and Glend weren’t there, especially when he was the one who’d said they should stop the sex.
Valryn ripped her dress up then, maddened by desire. Her gold skin was so amazingly sleek and soft, and his hands moved across her back, shoulders, neck, face, and arms. He pulled the neckline down so that it barely still shielded her pretty pink nipples. He licked them through the fabric and then used his teeth to free them. Catryn gasped when he suckled her.
She reached for his cock, massaging it through his pants before finding the ties that would release him. She lifted herself up and then drove herself down hard onto his pulsing shaft. They both moaned when she did this, their voices blending. She kissed him sweetly, and then he couldn’t help himself. He fucked up into her, watching her face as she explored the intense sensations. She tilted her head back and jerked down onto him every time he went up. They worked like a machine towards both of their sexual releases.
Her cunt was soft and tight around him, and he relished every thrust, holding onto every image of her as she let go of hiding her pleasure and shut her eyes to bear into the rising climax. Valryn’s body was trembling with fatigue and anticipation. Their bodies slapped together, and the moans that slipped from her swollen lips were anything but discreet.
“Come with me, Cat,” he whispered.
He knew that she’d heard him because she nodded through the nearly painful expression on her face. He picked her up once more, and their final connection brought about a sensational warmth and explosion of spasms. His cock expelled its juices inside her, and he felt the quiver of her around him. She rocked and moaned, her dark red hair falling all around his face. Her breasts hit his cheek, and he kissed them passionately. He could feel the obscene gladness that he’d brought her. It washed away the pain and guilt for a few moments at least.
She rode the waves of her orgasm on his cock and then, when she was ready and still, removed herself. She fixed her dress. She came back to him and allowed him to hold her. He locked his arms around her and suddenly felt emotional. It was unlike him. He was stone usually, but the closeness of her and the confusing events prior had him on edge.
He didn’t know what to say, either.
Luckily they could sense what the other felt, and that alone gave him confirmation that he wasn’t alone in his emotional state.
“Thank you.”
The words were so soft, nearly childish. He kissed her forehead and wished he could tell her how much he wanted...everything, how he wanted her. He wanted her to be safe and free. He never wanted to be one to get in her way.
“Don’t give up,” he cleared his throat as he said it.
Catryn stood then, wiping her cheeks of what appeared to be silver streams of tears.
“Don’t try to make me anything other than what I am. Never again. I’m not your Peacequeen. I never was.”
Valryn stood upright to greet his visitor. He was recuperating still. Frequently the healers would come in and work salves into his muscles and then pour him draughts that caused him nausea. Darrian and Glend were maintaining their own healing experiences. At least he knew that they were alive.
“Valryn of the Citadel,” Kalif, the stoic general, stood imperiously over him, robust even in his silks. “I will admit I am a bit worried. Majmal has yet to awaken, and there are rumors of hellish fiends stalking the streets nightly. Jurdu has never suffered like this. And the Peacequeen stays in her chambers unwilling to see anyone.”
“And?” Valryn grit his teeth as he swung his legs to the edge of the bed. “What do you want from me?”
“I think you have the same questions I do. How do we kill them? Where are they coming from? What happened when Majmal tried to lift her block? Don’t play stupid.”
Valryn’s brows raised unconsciously, and he looked up at him.
“The only one playing stupid here is you. If you want answers, I am not your man. So either you have something you want to ask me specifically, or you have no one else to talk to. What’s your question?’
Kalif’s black eyes shifted towards him, completely unimpressed.
“What is she thinking?”
Valryn exhaled hard. His fingers traced the stubble of his strong chin. He glanced up at Kalif, not knowing if they could truly trust him. He was a son of Yam
ar, and even if he’d been sworn to Cat, his blood would always be loyal to his homeland. Valryn didn’t trust the Sultan either, nor any of his advisors. He had disliked Majmal briskly, and viewed him only as a means to an end. Everyone outside of Catryn, Glend, and Darrian was negotiable.
“There’s been sightings of the Djinn. We have no idea how many people have been possessed or how many we are up against. She’s the only one who can purge the creatures from a human body, and she’s sitting in her room like some careless spoiled child. The Sultan is infuriated.”
“You know I can’t control her. None of us can.”
“There’s no time for her games. What she feels should be put aside for the divine work that must be done,” Kalif seethed, his gentle lips raising to reveal starkly white teeth. “If you don’t convince her otherwise, who will?”
“Let me tell you something, General. When Catryn makes up her mind about something, it’s nearly impossible to sway her. She ignores my advice most of the time. Still, she’ll come around. I can try to talk to her, but I can’t promise anything.”
Kalif slung his hands on his hips, clearly needing more. But Valryn couldn’t give him more.
“This isn’t just Yamar. If the Djinn aren’t weeded out, something bigger will come to fruition.”
“And that is?” Val questioned boldly.
“The Djinn will spread. Do you want to live in a dying world? A world of humans overrun by Djinn? We don’t even know how to kill them.”
Valryn remained silent, his head pounding. Ever since the Djinn’s entrance into his body, he felt less himself. And the tether to Catryn seemed tenuous. Even after their interlude the night before, he was waterlogged in his sense of her and the other men.
“I’ll talk to her. That’s all I can give you.”
Kalif seemed far from satisfied.
“I’ll go to her now. You...well, need your rest.”
Valryn was stingy with his goodbyes, and Kalif was one who rubbed him the wrong way. Darrian was an angel compared to this bastard. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, and he nodded tightly.
