“No,” Lena said, willing her men, stopping them from interrupting. She needed this. She needed to know what she was capable of—and having Bastian, Vale, and Tamlen save her right now was out of the question.
She had to do this.
“I think,” she whispered, raising the dagger and her free hand, “to free myself.” With no hesitation, she drew the cutting knife along her palm, cutting it open in much the same way Gregain had all that time ago. Almost immediately, her blood pooled black, the knife sizzling and melting in her grip. She lifted her injured palm to her neck, holding onto the collar that kept her magic at bay.
Even this hunk of metal, enchanted by the enchanters themselves, could not stop the acidic blood from burning through it. All the while, Cailan moved nearer, and before he was within ten feet from her, she was able to yank the collar off.
Free at last. Finally.
“What have you been hiding from me, love?” Cailan hissed, his many voices seeming to dig into her brain, threatening to overpower her. As he spoke, he turned his head. Lena followed his gaze, spotting Vale, Bastian, and Tamlen standing on the edge of camp. “And who the fuck are they?”
Odd hearing a demon-y voice swear, but Lena was unaffected. Holding her bleeding hand away from her, her black blood dropped to the grass, killing anything it touched, burning into a black, sizzling crisp.
“I’ve hidden a lot from you,” she said. “And you are not my love.” At that, she flung her injured arm and blood droplets spewed from the wound, splattering over his clothes, a few dotting his face.
He hissed—yes, hissed—as holes started to burn in his skin where the blood had touched, as it seeped through his clothes. “You will not win this, mage.” Cailan’s teeth had completely blackened, fangs growing.
“Okay, is it just me,” she overheard Tamlen say, “or was he not as ugly before?”
Lena tossed him a look that said, you’re not helping. She was glad they were not trying to interfere. She would handle this herself; she owed it to Anne, to everyone Cailan would hurt if he remained king.
His fingers were like claws now, and he reached for her, slashing nothing but air as she sidestepped him. What Lena failed to see was his other hand. It grabbed her neck and lifted her in the air, squeezing her throat, choking her. Cailan chuckled, a dozen different laughs all formed into one. “I will do what I should’ve done the first moment I met you.”
She didn’t feel like sticking around and listening to him go on and on, so she slapped her injured hand onto his face, causing him to abruptly drop her as he grimaced and howled in pain. When he stood straight again, she saw why—the slap with her blackened blood behind it had melted his grey skin, revealing his ashy muscles, burned off part of his lips to show half of his teeth.
Gods, she wanted to barf just looking at him. He was so hideous, so ugly, she instantly jumped back, forgetting the seriousness of the situation as she dropped her knife and said, “Ew.”
Yes. Clearly, she was going for the win here.
“You’ve made your final mistake,” Cailan spoke, though it was mostly with the right side of his face. As she realized it might’ve been a bad thing to have dropped her knife, he lunged for her, blackened hands outstretched. Her blood still burned its way along his face—now his forehead and nose were nothing, all cartilage gone.
His nails were just about to reach her when a large, white, hooked claw burst through his chest, gripping his heart inside talons that looked to be at least six inches long. The arm was scaled, its fingers thick and strong. Cailan sputtered, and even though his heart—black and tainted as it was—was outside of his chest cavity, he still moved, still blinked and shouted and threatened her.
“Use your blackfire,” a whispered voice spoke, though it was more in her head than aloud.
Lena had only ever called on it once in recent memory, across the Veil. Would it be different here? Would she lose control over it? It didn’t matter, because her men were here. Zys was here.
She wasn’t alone.
Breathing in, she closed her eyes and focused, gathering the magic she had always turned away from, building the energy until it could grow no more. A magical substance danced along her arms, her entire body. Blackfire. The moment she opened her eyes, she threw her hands toward Cailan.
The blackfire that had gathered on her body leapt from hers to his, smothering him, burning the heart the white claw held to ashes. Cailan’s body soon followed suit, and as he burned away, Lena inhaled. It wasn’t the best smell, but it wasn’t awful, either. It was freeing, in a weird, indescribable way.
And then she stood across from a ten foot tall beast, part man, part dragon. As Zys was in the history books; his bottom half was of a man, but everything above his torso was scaled, clawed, and terrifying, all white and shimmering in the dying sunlight. His snout was long and curved, teeth visible beneath serpentine lips. Her mind had trouble comprehending his form, but luckily she did not have to wait long.
With a flash of blinding white light, the tall figure before her shrunk and changed, and when the light died, Lena stared into the silver eyes of a human Zys. She was utterly speechless, though he was not.
“So,” Zys said, giving her a smirk that reminded her far too much of Tamlen, “how did you like my claws?” He even rose a single white eyebrow.
Lena tried to talk, but her voice was gone. Her men surrounded her shortly, and it was Vale who said, “I think what she means is she liked them.” Beside him, Bastian inspected the stew, muttering something about how they accomplished it.
Tamlen was on her left, slinging a heavy arm over her shoulder. “I wish I could’ve been in the fight, but you did good, Lena. You did good.” He tossed a look around. “How long before these fools wake?”
Zys must’ve known precisely what he meant, why he was asking. “Oh, I think there’s plenty of time for that. But first, Lena owes me an answer.” His silver stare was back on her, and Tamlen was slow to slide his arm off her, which allowed her to move closer to the old god.
Lena studied him. Though he had his arm hooked through Cailan—who was now no more than ashes on the grass—there was no blood on him, nothing to take away from his flawlessness. As she was lost in him, he reached for her hand, and she was stunned to see the cut on her palm had healed.
There was so much she still had to learn.
She spoke her answer, her choice, though her voice was nothing more than a soft wisp, a flutter she could barely hear herself. But Zys heard it, for he smiled and pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arm around her as he said, “If you will pardon us, there is something we must do. We will be back momentarily.”
Before she could ask him what exactly he meant by it, Zys swept her out of the real world and took her to a place that looked much like the King’s Gardens, but it wasn’t. Everything was brighter, the colors clearer, the edges crisper. There were no bodies of passed out soldiers, no Tamlen or Vale or Bastian. Only Zys and Lena.
“You are certain this is what you want?” Zys asked, sweeping a hand behind her, holding her to him. “Once you are mine, it cannot be undone.”
A calmness swept through her, one she could not deny, nor could she deny the way Zys looked down at her. It was a human expression, one of love. How had this happened? How had the creature who had terrified her dreams had turned into the handsome man before her? It didn’t make sense, but she was not one to question it. Not more than once, anyway.
She nodded. “I’m certain.” Lena’s eyelids closed as he grabbed her face, pressing his forehead against hers. She felt something then—power, radiating from him, ebbing into her. An untold and unknown amount of magic, ancient and primordial. Her forehead tingled, the sensation wrapping around her entire head as if it was a live crown of magic.
“Then forevermore, you are mine,” Zys murmured, his nose against hers, his lips brushing her mouth.
She felt the desire building within her, and she could not wait a second longer. Lena wrapped her arms a
round his neck, pressing their mouths together, hungry and eager. The desire she felt in that moment was akin to nothing; she’d never experienced something so strong. The world, the stars, everything in her head fell away as she kissed him.
And, gods, he kissed her back, not the tentative, unsure kiss they’d shared back in the castle. Zys revealed a longing, a fire inside of him, one she set and only she could put out. Lena slipped her tongue into his mouth, needing more. Her entire body pressed against his, and even though neither of them fell, they were suddenly on the ground, on the grass, tangled in each other. He was above her, his long legs holding hers down—not that she’d try to run from this.
She was done running. Lena was ready to face her future, her destiny.
Zys broke their lip lock, drawing a finger along the underside of her chin, down her throat and her bare chest until he reached the hemline of her dress. “Tell me what you want,” he murmured, egging her on.
Lena smiled, and it was then she saw something new. On his pale flesh, lining his forehead, a few shades darker than his normal color, a design wrapped around his head. All lines and shapes, it seemed to circle his entire forehead. Just as she imagined; a crown. The crown of a god, built-in, one he could not take off. What she’d felt had to have been the same, if, hopefully, a bit daintier.
She said the only thing she could: “I want you.”
Right then, she knew it was over. Her life was going to change. Whatever came next, they’d do together. And she’d have a god by her side, not to mention the others. She would give none of them up. A selfish woman she was, but she knew Ingrid would approve, at least.
In a magical flash, their clothes were off, and there was nothing separating their bodies. Caresses were exchanged at a faster than normal pace, and Lena’s had to close her eyes, for it was nearly too much. Zys might’ve been the tallest and skinniest of them all, but he was fit under his proper clothes, lean in all the ways that counted. And, perhaps it was instinctual, but he also knew exactly what to do as he moved himself and his hard length between her legs, wrapping them around his waist.
Zys’s lips moved to her neck as he whispered back, “And I’ve always wanted you.”
And they were one.
He pushed into her, watching with his silver stare as she arched her chest and threw her head back. He slid into her easily; she was so wet with desire there was no resistance at all. As his hips began to rock, she moaned. Wherever they were, even the sounds felt sharper to her ears, every touch, every movement ten times the strength it would’ve been in the mortal realm.
Zys was too tall a man to kiss while he thrusted into her, so she settled with showering his chest, his shoulders and his neck with her lips, nipping and sucking as his rhythm picked up. She took pleasure in making him groan; it reminded her of how much he’d changed.
And all for her.
She ran her fingers down his back, lightly scratching him. Lena grasped his backside as his thrusts grew more frantic, more erratic, harder and stronger. But still he did not stop, did not give himself to the pleasure Lena knew waited to be released. He kept thrusting, kept pounding into her wet sex with an unmatched vigor. Maybe even a godly vigor.
As if knowing her thoughts, Zys whispered, his voice husky and ragged, sending a new chill down her spine as his cock moved in and out of her, “I want you to feel it the same moment I do.”
Lena thought to ask him what he meant, although she was fairly sure she knew, but then it happened—tingles, almost like magic sweeping over her, inching her toward a precipice she was not strong enough to turn away from. The hands on his ass clenched, her toes tightening as she let out a loud cry.
Pleasure dominated her, sending all thoughts scurrying. The world around them faded away, and all she could feel was Zys above her, his cock inside her. The waves of pleasure would not dissipate, and she lost all sense of urgency, nearly all sense of self.
She was as one with Zys as she could possibly be, she realized as she felt his body start to shake over hers. His shoulders hunched, his nose pressed against her hair as his thrusts turned needy and quick. Lena felt something warm fill her, as if his seed had filled her very soul. Never had she ever been more at peace than she was in this moment.
Zys did not pull himself out right away, and the heightened senses still lingered. Lena stared at him, moving her hands to cup his face, running her thumbs over his lips, which were parted ever so slightly. Such a cruel-looking kind of handsome, but he would not be cruel to her anymore, she knew.
She just…knew.
This was the bargain she’d made when she was a child, a little girl who didn’t truly know who or what she was bargaining with when she’d cried out and asked for help. All she’d wanted was for the pain to stop, and the one that had answered her first, the being who had reached out to her through the mirror, was now a part of her.
They would be together forever, bargain or not, because, somehow and someway…Lena had fallen for him.
The blasted god.
Before he pulled himself out, Lena whispered, “I love you.”
Zys smiled, and the smile sent her stomach for a twist—this one a good one. “And I,” he murmured, utterly serious as he spoke, “have never known what it means to love, not until I met you. You have my eternal soul, Lena. I am yours, just as you are mine. We are death, we are the void, we are one. My Lena, we will rule death itself together. Nothing will ever harm you again.”
She grinned, never one for such sweet nothings, but it was good to hear all the same. His words, not unlike the ones Cailan had told her once, meant more than the old god could possibly know. “As long as we don’t go around spreading plagues and killing anyone else, I’m fine with it.” And, truthfully, she was. Death was going to happen whether they had a hand in it or not, same with illnesses. To rule over it, well, it could mean to control it, to some extent.
“As you wish.”
Never had three words sounded so sweet to her ears.
Zys felt…he wasn’t sure how he felt, for he hadn’t spent enough time in the mortal realm to have enough experiences to draw from, but he knew he felt good, and he also knew Lena felt the same. They’d shared their first of many intimate encounters—and now he knew what it felt like to be inside her, it would be hard to be anywhere else.
Still, somehow he managed to pull out of her, rolling beside her and gazing up at the sky that was a few shades too blue. Kind of like her hair.
“Where are we?” she asked, turning to face him.
“I created this place for myself, to think,” Zys said. “I molded it after your realm. It is nice, is it not?”
She sat up, amazed. “You created this place? What do you call it?”
“It hasn’t a name yet. Any suggestions?” Zys chuckled as she was speechless, which he could not blame. It was a beautiful realm, its colors more vibrant than the mortal’s. After giving her some time, he stood, fully clothed, as she was too. The quirks of magic. “Come. The others are waiting for us.” He offered her his hands, and she took them with no hesitation.
This was what he had waited so long for—for Lena to accept him, to take him, to want him. Suddenly the vision of the future he’d had while gazing at her as a child did not seem so far off. Though, in order for her to be with a child, his child, they would need to mate on the mortal plane. And it would be his child, for the seeds of the dead, of her other lovers, would never beget one.
With as little as a blink, they were back in the mortal world, standing around half a dozen unconscious soldiers and an expectant group of men. It was Tamlen who said, “Well? Aren’t you going to go off and, I don’t know, ravish her? I thought it’s what you wanted. If not, I’ll be more than happy to—”
As he went on and on, Zys turned his gaze to Lena, who still held onto his hands and met his eyes, unflinching. The others hadn’t seen them go; it was simply their minds that went. They only looked as if they stared at each other in silence, while in reality…they’d been gettin
g to know each other’s bodies well.
Lena chuckled, finally stopping Tamlen’s rant about what he’d do to her body since Zys clearly lacked imagination. She said, “You are full of surprises, aren’t you, Zys?”
Oh, how he loved hearing her say his name like that. Zys was so enraptured in her, in her voice and her beauty, everything that made her mortal—though she was not anymore, she’d soon find out—he neglected to hear someone approaching.
A guard, his skin practically green with sickness. He wore no helmet, for it would’ve gotten in the way of his vomiting. He stumbled onto the scene, gazing at his fellow guardsmen, torso bent over as he tried to catch his breath. He also tried stopping the new batch of stomach bile that threatened to rise up his throat with a gulp.
“What…” The guard could hardly speak. “What is this? Who are…” He swayed on his feet. “Who’re you?” He went to reach for his sword, but his fingers were clumsy, and after he withdrew it from its sheath, the blade simply fell to the grass.
Zys inhaled, slowly turning his eyes to the guard. Once he had the guard under his glamor, the guard’s tense posture faded, and he instantly looked more relaxed. He knew there were many things he could’ve said in that moment, but one sentence rang in his head as the only way to answer.
His voice came out slow, calm and steady as he said, “I am the King.” Glamouring anyone who saw him into thinking he was Cailan would be somewhat difficult and never-ending, but Zys would put in any amount of work, provided it made Lena content.
And, judging from the expression she currently gave him, she rather liked his answer.
The guard blinked a few times, quickly muttering, “Right. I’m sorry, my King. Must’ve been…something I—” He could say no more. He fell backwards, passing out. His actions caused the other men to chuckle.
Zys, though, only had eyes for her. He watched her, entranced by her smile and her demeanor, how fluid her laughter was and what burning desire it ignited in his stomach. He could not say how long he stood watching, but it was long enough for the five of them to hear a cooing sound coming from the forest to their left.
Gods and Trickery: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (Unfortunate Magic Book 3) Page 18
