by CY Jones
His questions have merit, and I’d be lying if I said the same doubt never crossed my mind. Because it has. Many times. Especially recently when Zion said he couldn’t tamper with the balance of time to bring my brother back. As a mage, our power comes with great responsibility. All of us must adhere to the laws of our existence. Balance has to be maintained, or we’d be no better than the gods before us and wiped out of existence. If such a power existed where we could attain all our heart’s desires, then I shudder to think of the price we have to pay to obtain it. And once you have it, what happens for you to keep it? There has to be a reason why the spoils of the victors have never been recorded.”
“I don’t know the answer to that. I can only assume some great power exists because of the Champions that we summon. They are higher beings whose existence cannot be explained either. I don’t have all the answers, and yes, I haven’t asked many questions. This task was laid out on my lap, and it’s only because of Quinn why I’m choosing to throw my gauntlet into the ring. If I can get a hold of that power and save him, then it will all be worth it.”
“And what if that power destroys you? Makes you destroy everything you’re protecting? Then what?” he says, folding his arms and giving me a narrow eyed stare.
Why is he asking all this? Does he know what happened in the last war? What is he not telling me?
“What happened in the last war? I know you know or else you wouldn’t be so difficult right now.”
“I don’t know everything. I do know it was one of the bloodiest battles ever and that a harlequin won by betraying everyone in his party. After he received his so-called wish, he vanished and was never seen again. Is that what you want? To be a betrayer to your kind and then disappear?”
“The only thing I’m sure of is that I want my brother back and Morganstein dead. The rest of the pieces to the story can fall where they wish as long as it ends that way.”
After a moment of silence with him staring intensely into my eyes, he throws his hands in the air and mutters, “Fine. I’ll help you, but you have to do something for me first.”
“And what is that?” I snarl, not liking the thought of striking another bargain with him.
“I’m having a party tonight. Both light and dark mages are invited. At the party, I want you to drop your guard and allow me five minutes to do whatever I wish to tempt you.” His voice is husky, his pupils dilating into huge blackened orbs with his dark thoughts completely taking over the green.
“Tempt me to do what?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
“Why, lovely, isn’t it obvious?” he says, grasping my hand and placing it over his crotch. His hard on is big, and it strains against the material of his sweats. I’ve seen Quinn’s dick before when it was getting pierced, but then he was younger and not fully grown into his body yet, and certainly he wasn’t fully hard and aroused like Oberon is now. “I’m going to tempt you until you’re begging me to fuck you.”
“And you think you can do that in just five minutes?” I laugh thoroughly amused, but in the back of my mind, I have my doubts. I haven’t moved my hand, and I hold in a groan as he pushes against me. Quinn’s delicious scent, his pheromones, are playing havoc with my senses. We’re playing a very dangerous game of cat and mouse, where Oberon is the overseer, making up the rules as he goes.
“We'll see tonight, now won’t we?” he volleys in a growly tone, and I bite my lip as I keep up the fight.
“Yes, we well,” I answer, agreeing to his terms.
A zap of energy shocks me out of the lust cloud, rendering me stupid. The bargain is done and there’s no take backs. I owe him five minutes of my time, and he owes me his services. I like to say I’m the one coming on top of this deal, but I’m not sure. A tiny voice sings, echoing in my head that he has the power to break me.
For the next hour, we go over my plan with him sitting on the bed and me as far as I can get in the small room, sitting in a chair near Quinn’s desk. But even with the distance between us, my eyes would still stray to his straining cock that stayed hard the whole time I was there.
No one needs to tell me I have issues.
“Nothing good comes from making deals with the Erlking.” Appearing out of thin air, Ryker’s Champion confronts me once I’m well away from Quinn’s dorm. Archer materializes in front of me in a guarding stance, waiting for my word to take him out. I’m tempted to set him loose, just to see what happens, but a deathmatch in the middle of campus will not go over too well with Gramps.
“What business do you have with my Master, Rider?” Archer growls at the same time I ask, “Are you spying on me?”
He ignores Archer, but he turns and answers me. “Someone needs to be where you’re concerned. It’s your fault Oberon is walking around freely.”
What the hell? I highly doubt Blondie knows his Champion is keeping tabs on me. He’s had a hard on since I let Oberon loose, which he fully expressed when he held me against a tree and tried to choke me to death. Luckily, Blondie was able to get him to back off using a command spell.
Seriously, what is his deal? He’s not my Champion, so it’s not like we had any heart to heart talks. He’s also not on my kill list, so I haven’t looked into his past. I literally don’t know jackshit about him. His pointed ears tell me he’s fae. Judging by his coloring, I’d guess winter with the long, dark hair, black as a starless and moonless night and those cold ice blue eyes. Like all fae, he has delicate features and is too handsome for his own good. His aura is even cold just like the ice powers he wields effortlessly. I suspect he’s a royal, just like Oberon for him to be so familiar with him, but without knowing his true name, it’s only a guess.
“What is your deal with him? Not too many Winter faeries associate with Spring. I heard your kind is stuck-up like that.”
“You’re one to talk. The Unseelie and Seelie are the same as your dark and light mages. One is never allowed to be with the other, so why associate with them? Those who think they can break the rules and do whatever they want deserve what’s coming to them,” he says, looking pointedly at me.
“Is that a threat?” I ask, raising my brow. “Are we allies, or do I need to watch my back around you? It’s not like you haven’t tried to kill me before.”
“I’ve been ordered by my Master to not lay an ill-intended hand against you, but when your judgement comes, because believe me it will, and soon judging by the path you’re on, don’t expect my help in saving you.”
With that parting threat, he poofs away like a cool breeze on the wind, leaving behind a flurry of snowflakes in his wake. “I bet whatever his deal with Oberon is, it has to do with a female. Long held hatred like that always involves the fairer sex,” I murmur.
“The opposite sex has a way of bringing out the worst in people,” Archer agrees.
His statement makes me curious. Archer doesn’t really talk much about himself. Sure, we’re forming the Master, Champion bond and all, but I don’t know much about him. It’s not like I asked either, which makes me ashamed. Just like with this war, I’ve been too consumed with myself. I swear I’m a terrible person.
“Do you remember anything from your past life yet? Did you leave someone you loved behind? I know you said you couldn’t remember much at the summoning, but it has been some time since then. Maybe something has come to you.”
“I remember that I succeeded my brother and was my people’s Mamanatowick. Paramount Chief in your language. I ruled over all the Indian tribes my brother formed together before he died. I cannot remember if I was mated or not, or if I had any children, but I do remember this overwhelming, blinding hate I had for the pale faces. Maybe that was my downfall. It’s hard to see anything else past that.”
“Did you die in battle?” I question as a memory of my own sparks.
“I did. I fell in a field of golden flowers. I remember the softness of those golden petals surrounding me as I bled out. The brilliance of its color was nothing like I had ever seen before.
Like pure melted gold, enhanced in a sparkling light. That’s what I held onto as they swept my soul away to the beyond.”
“That makes sense,” I say, thinking about the marking on my deltoid and the golden color of his eyes. I’m doubtful they were that way when he was human. Whatever divine being that took him away remade him in its image once he became a Champion. The golden flower is his cornerstone. His anchor to the mortal world. I suspect once all this is over, the mark on my arm will disappear, and so will he.
“Before the summoning, when I fainted, I think I dreamt of you. If so, then you have nothing to regret. Hate may have fueled you, but you fought hard for your people and died an honorable death.”
“Thank you, Angelica. You have given me a precious gift with your words. I am honored to be your Champion.”
Smiling, I give him a light punch on his muscled arm. “Don’t be getting all sappy on me. We have a killing spree to go on tomorrow.” He laughs, and I hold onto the light feeling I get from hearing it. The good in this fucked up world.
Chapter 5
Angelica
After my business with Oberon, I seek out the twins. I was too ashamed to visit Oliver yesterday after my scalding from Zion, but I’m here now. The twins' dorm isn’t that far from my old room. After waking from my coma, I’ve been staying in the cabin for privacy reasons, but Grandpa made sure I knew I could always return to my room if I wanted.
I enjoy all the space, which is why I have yet to return to my dorm room. In a short amount of time, I’ve made the hidden cabin in the woods my home, which isn’t hard if you knew how my old home life was. Although Gramps’ magic is top notch, I’ve added my own wards to give the cabin more of an essence of myself, plus you can never be too careful here. This is a school that houses and trains killers afterall. The last time I didn’t properly ward my place, a couple of petty bitches broke in and trashed it. I killed them, of course, making an example out of them, but some of the mages that attend school here are really slow.
I only have to knock once before Caster opens the door, and I see a smiling, half-naked Oli spread out on the tan couch in the living area with his comforter half kicked off. He has a remote control in his hand, and he uses it to surf the channels on the huge plasma TV bolted to the wall.
Oli’s Champion is beautiful, but she’s hard to read. Every time I’ve seen her, her face is expressionless. If she shows any emotion, it’s only to her Master. She’s also from Faery, and I have no clue if she likes me or if she’s like Blondie’s Champion and hates my guts. Her milky white orbs for eyes never give anything away like her face, and she rarely speaks unless she’s chanting spells. Although she’s blind, she’s sharp as a whip and very fucking powerful. I hate to admit it, but at times, I get jealous of her, like now, with her shut all alone in a room with a not fully clothed Oli. Before she materializes away, she raises a perfectly arched white eyebrow, and I blush. Can she sense my freakin’ jealousy?
“What is this, shirtless Saturday?” I ask while my eyes roam over the ripple of muscle on his delectable chest and what seems like unlimited abs. Usually when people sit, no matter how fit they are, they have a small pouch of fat, but no such thing exists on his perfect body. And to think, there’s a perfect clone just like him.
“If it’s a trend for the day, you should take your shirt off too then. You know, to show your school spirit,” he replies, giving me a cheeky smile, revealing the dimple in his left cheek. From being around the twins during training, I’ve learned that besides their powers and the subtle color difference in their auras, the only other difference between them is that Blondie’s dimple is in his right cheek while Oli’s is in his left.
“Well, you know me. I live to a different beat,” I retort.
“And that is why I love you,” he says and my heart skips a beat at how casually he drops the L word. Get a grip, Angelica. It’s just a figure of speech. He doesn’t really mean it. “I was wondering when you’d stop by. I heard about your fight with Zion,” he continues, not noticing my embarrassing reaction.
“Of course you did. Your brother tells you everything,” I mumble, and he reaches out for me once I’m close to the bed and pulls me down beside him, wrapping his arms around me.
Oli’s room is a whole lot bigger than mine in the dorms. It’s a shared space that he shares with his twin, so he has a living area between the two bedrooms with their own ensuite bathroom. They’re lucky they only have to share with each other and not the whole floor like I used to before I was moved. They’re space is a whole lot fancier too with the giant television and game consoles, which I’m totally jealous of since I forgot to pack my Xbox.
“You know, it’s kind of unfair for you to have such sweet digs. I bet your bedroom is even bigger than my old one. Did you get an upgrade because you’re an heir or is your family paying a little extra for tuition?” I murmur into his neck.
“If you want to take a tour of my room, I’ll gladly show you. The bed is particularly interesting,” he teases or maybe he’s not, judging by the heated look in his turquoise orbs. Their eyes are really extraordinary and ever-changing. Some days, they are blue like a clear sky on a beautiful sunny day or turquoise like now. Blue-green like the sea to crystal blue like gems. I’ve seen them dark until the blue looks black, light with striations of every color blue you can imagine, but no matter what the color is, they’re always remarkable.
“Does that line work? If so, this place loses points for its higher education if that’s all you can come up with.”
“I don’t need to spit out poetry to pick up females,” he states.
“I have no doubt you don’t,” I growl. My old friend jealousy is never far when dealing with the heirs. Neither is insecurity. He smiles at my reaction, but thank the Goddess he doesn’t comment on it.
“You’re a first year. I earned a bigger space from the many years I have been a student here, and also it’s a shared space, so of course it would be bigger. Besides, didn’t you just get your own upgrade? A fully furnished cabin in the woods is nothing to sneeze at. Being the headmaster’s granddaughter does have its perks.”
“Well, if you put it that way,” I conceded my previous resentment as I move off his lap. I don’t know how injured he got fighting, but I don’t want to make it worse by sitting on him.
“Why’d you move, treasure? I was just getting comfortable,” he whines, shifting in his seat, and I drop my gaze to his lap. The thin material of his basketball shorts doesn’t hide much, making the outline of his shaft front and center. My body itches to rub itself against him shamelessly like a cat, but I refrain. I’ve groped enough cocks today. Who knows how long I can continue to avoid temptation before I’m riding him like a cowgirl.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I reply, looking away, trying my damndest to focus on anything else but his dick.
Since when have I become such a harlot? After Constantine, that prick who took my virginity, you’d think I’d be wary to have sex again. That asshole left me distraught and crying over his sorry ass after he told me he only fucked me on the behalf of my wicked sister, Harley. I had been dick free for a little over two years before I fucked Kirito in the field outside the school and then Milo. Those two wrecked me, and it seems now because of them my head lives in the gutter.
“Ah, treasure, you could never hurt me. I’m a big boy. I can take anything you can dish out,” he retorts suggestively.
“I see that,” I mumble. See, this is why I always have sex on the brain. With temptation such as this, it’s hard to be good.
“Do you?” he goads, pushing me even farther.
“Oli,” I whine. “As much as I enjoy playing this little teasing game we got going on, I can’t right now. My mind is all over the place. I feel really bad about going through a mental breakdown in my lush secluded cabin while you were out fighting and got hurt because I wasn’t there to do my part.”
He lets out a long sigh and gives me that look. One that screams pity. “Treasur
e, don’t worry about what Zion said. We all get why you weren’t there. Even that asshole. I’m sure he didn’t mean it the way he told you. Zion sucks at expressing his true feelings just as much as you do. What he said was harsh, but you have to realize, you flat out demanding him to give you the reward at the end of the war was fucked up.”
“He meant every word, and this time, I don’t blame him. I was the one in the wrong. I acted like a bitch yesterday and deserved more than a tongue lashing.”
Oli groans and I look at him confused as he runs his palm down his face completely exasperated. “Please, don’t tell me you told him that. His ego is big enough. There’s no need for you to take your sexy self over there and apologize, making it even bigger.”
“No worries there. I’ve been keeping my distance. Giving him time to cool down.”
“Good,” he says, pulling me closer to his body. “Let him stew for a bit, or at least until I’m one-hundred percent so I can kick his butt for being so rude. He really needs to learn how to talk to the ladies, or he’ll keep attracting shit like Violet.”
He says her name with a recognizable disgust, and it makes me happy that he likes her as much as I do.
“You know,” he says, giving me a wicked smile that screams ‘I’m up to no good’. “I heard from a very talented healer that cuddling and watching movies with a hot chick makes for the best medicine.”
Chuckling, I ask, “What healer told you that hogwash?”
“Perhaps you heard of him. He’s a sexy dark mage by the name of Oliver Vincent Erwin.”
“You don’t say,” I play along. “His name does sound familiar, but I don’t know if I would call him sexy.”
