-Blood-Flesh-and-Spirit

by Hyacinth-Scarlet

  With his free hand, Dante squeezed Eli’s hip, drawing his attention. “I do wonder what you’re thinking about to cause that expression.” He spoke idly and calmly, as if he was completely ignoring the fact that he was finger-fucking Eli. “Perhaps I’m boring you.”

  “N–no,” Eli stammered. “Not boring me at all.”

  Dante’s eyes glimmered with amusement and satisfaction. “Is that right? Well then, let me ask you this. Do you trust me?”

  The question put somewhat of a damper on Eli’s enthusiasm. It was a serious inquiry, one that shouldn’t have been made when they were together like this. Perhaps Dante knew it as well, because he seemed to debate pulling away, to give Eli time to find an answer.

  That would have been pointless and unnecessary since no matter what, Eli’s reply would be the same. “Yes. Absolutely.”

  He had no idea when that had happened, but he did trust Dante, with his life, his soul, and his body. The bloodkin smiled at him, although this grin seemed somewhat different from the one before. Grateful, maybe? “Good,” Dante said. “Now, hold onto the tree trunk and don’t move your hands no matter what. Can you do that for me?”

  Eli hated not touching Dante, but he automatically obeyed. There was just something about the bloodkin prince that spoke to a part of him he hadn’t even dared to understand before. He released Dante’s shoulders and reached for the tree. It was old, and as he clung to it, the grooves on its trunk raked across his palms. The sensation was familiar, and it didn’t bring any discomfort. He’d had sex in the shadow of trees many times before, back in Manturanael. And yet, this was somehow different. Even if the actual scene might bear striking resemblances to things he’d done in the past with Kier or other elves, simply the fact that Dante was here instead made it…more.

  “Now, close your eyes.”

  Again, Eli would have liked to keep his gaze on Dante, but he complied. Now unable to see Dante, he remained nevertheless aware of the bloodkin’s every move. It was as if his every sense was sharply attuned to Dante’s motions, like his body reacted to everything the other man did. Cutting himself off from the bliss of watching and touching Dante made a new wave of sexual frustration flow over him, adding to the one already building up due to the bloodkin’s skilled ministrations. And all the while, Dante’s fingers kept working him, stretching him, preparing him for the inevitable.

  Finally, after what seemed like forever, Dante must have deemed him ready. He removed his digits from Eli’s body and lifted Eli’s legs on his shoulders. The thick head of his dick nudged against Eli’s opening. And then, in one single, smooth thrust, Dante slid home.

  It felt…Eli didn’t even have words for it. He couldn’t hope to be able to describe the sensations that assaulted him at Dante’s penetration. But then, he didn’t have to speak. He didn’t have to think. Words and ideas didn’t matter. Only emotions did, and sweet Mother Earth, they swamped Eli in a hurricane that threatened to tear asunder every concept of bliss Eli had ever come up with, shattering every boundary he might have tried to put up.

  It didn’t hurt, although it probably should have. Dante did seem very generously endowed, and his girth stretched Eli, filling him to capacity. There was a certain burn, but no real discomfort, and while it did puzzle Eli, he didn’t let it distract him from what truly mattered, the beautiful, delicious pleasure.

  For a few moments, Dante stilled inside him, perhaps meaning to let Eli adjust. Eli clutched the tree trunk tighter, struggling not to reach out to Dante, not to force him deeper. Thankfully, Dante must have noticed his tension since he pulled out and thrust back in, so hard Eli would have been propelled forward if not for his grip on the tree.

  Shocked and shaken, Eli could do nothing but hang in for the ride. Dante started a nearly punishing rhythm, pegging Eli’s gland with every stroke, sending him flying higher and higher on new peaks of rapture. At one point, Eli managed to gain some sort of the balance and started pushing back, fucking himself on the bloodkin’s dick.

  Dante responded by increasing the speed and violence of his thrusts, moving faster and faster, almost frantically, as if he couldn’t get deep enough inside Eli, as if no matter how much he tried, he simply couldn’t satisfy his burning need for Eli. Eli knew all this because he felt the same for Dante. It was sweet agony, and he needed to come so badly that he thought he would explode, but at the same time, he wanted it to never end.

  He didn’t dare to open his eyes or let go of the tree, lest he destroy the beauty of the moment. Instead, he let go of his fears and doubts, losing them and himself in the dance of passion as old as time.

  The pleasure rose and rose, until Eli was choking, moaning, coming undone, so close to climax that he could almost taste it. Fortunately, Dante took pity on him. A murmur sounded in Eli’s ear, so low it could have come from the very bowels of the world. “Come for me, Eli. Come on my cock.”

  The words acted like a switch for Eli’s brain and body. Just like that, Eli arched his back and exploded, twitching and gasping out Dante’s name as he found his peak. A few moments later, wet heat flooded him, signaling Dante’s orgasm.

  And then, the strangest thing happened. For a few beautiful moments, Eli’s mind and heart were completely in synch with Dante’s. He found himself opening his eyes, in spite of what his lover had ordered, and he did so just in time to see Dante’s form blur and disappear.

  He would have felt shocked and bereft, except out of the blue, he sensed a warm, familiar, yet foreign presence entering him, fully melding with him. It was as if Dante had finally achieved his purpose and had entered Eli deeper than anyone could possibly have. Eli received Dante within him with glee, and the bliss that he experienced as their souls came together as one. It wasn’t even a metaphor, but the real thing, a true union of the very essences of their beings.

  The most remarkable thing was that, even when Eli started to come down from the high of his orgasm, that feeling of fullness, of completion didn’t fade. Dante remained within him, a presence so true and real that it brought tears to Eli’s eyes.

  “Dante?” he thought tentatively, now wondering if the bloodkin could hear him.

  “I’m here,” his lover replied in his mind. “I have no idea what happened.”

  Eli didn’t know either, but he wasn’t about to question it. Panting, he struggled to his feet, blindly searching for something to clean himself up with. As he got up, though, he noticed something strange. There was no spunk seeping out of his ass. He still felt the stretch of Dante’s dick inside him, but the evidence usually left behind by satisfactory sex wasn’t there.

  It confused Eli since he’d distinctively felt the wet heat invading him, splashing against the walls of his channel. He rubbed his chest, suddenly feeling an ache deep inside. He didn’t want to dwell on what they didn’t have. There was too much they’d already been given, including this privilege of making love.

  It occurred to him then that there was still a great deal they didn’t understand about Dante’s current condition. Eli had thought Dante had more limitations, but it seemed obvious that this was not the case. Perhaps the crux of the issue lay in Eli’s bond with Dante. What could they achieve if they fully grasped its power and meaning?

  For the moment, Eli didn’t have an answer, but he knew he had to find it, no matter what. And he suspected the only way to do that would be to brave a journey toward the same place he’d just fled. Tachaka.

  * * * * Dante had always held a great deal of affection for Tachaka. As a child, he’d learned the bloodkin ways in the imperial residence. Wanting for Dante to also acknowledge the lives of their commoners, Aran would sometimes lead him through the city, showing him around, teaching him his vision of the world.

  Those days were long gone now, but the memories had stayed. In many ways, Tachaka remained the same, as beautiful and mysterious as Dante remembered it. However, as of late, the bloodkin had grown increasingly restless, which caused their capital to be under heavy guard, more so than u
sual.

  For that reason, Dante had seriously disagreed with Eli when the elf insisted they needed to return to Tachaka to get some help for Dante. Eli believed that Aran would help them if he saw Dante. According to the elf, the Imperator had seemed truly grieved at Dante’s death. Dante believed that as the last thing he remembered before the gloom of death was being held in his father’s arms while he tried to reach for Eli. However, the fact remained that while Aran still held affection for Dante, Eli would likely not be protected by it. Dante didn’t want to risk his lover’s life. He’d have gone alone, but he discovered that he couldn’t leave Eli’s side for too long. It seemed like, in a strange way, he was anchored to the elf. Their connection guaranteed that he could stay in the world of the living, but also kept Eli bound to Dante. The selfish part of Dante was pleased, but deep within himself, he also experienced a measure of guilt and regret at the knowledge that he could never give the elf what he deserved.

  In the end, Dante would have much preferred to go to Manturanael to investigate his current condition since the elves were likely to have information similar to the one in Tachaka. Eli had refused, though, explaining that his father had banished him and would never agree to help.

  For that reason, they remained at a stalemate, trying to figure out the answers to their questions by themselves, until something else happened. Word reached their ears that the Imperator had become increasingly unstable. He was leading a campaign to hunt down Cole, Kier, Vane, and Marlais, whom he apparently blamed for Dante’s death.

  It was truly the strangest thing. The Imperator remained wise enough so as to be discreet in his query, which was why Dante and Eli hadn’t originally learned of it. But then, one night, while Eli had been sleeping, they were both given a vision.

  They saw a strange-looking young man, an avian from what Dante could tell, smiling at them with kindness and regret. “Your friends are in danger,” he said. “You must go to them.”

  An image flashed through Dante’s mind, and from what Dante could tell, also Eli’s. It was of Kier and Cole, in two dark cells, beaten and defeated. Dante couldn’t be sure if this was something that had already happened, or if it represented some image of the future, and the avian didn’t explain anything else. “Go,” he insisted instead. “You’re the only ones who can save them.”

  When the vision vanished, Dante knew he could no longer keep his mate from Tachaka. He realized all too well that when his father decided on something, nothing could stop him. It was only a matter of time until the vision came true, if it hadn’t done so already. Eli didn’t seem to be a focus, but then, Aran had plenty of targets to direct his hatred at, more comfortable than a light elf who might have returned to Manturanael.

  “You believe this avian?” Eli asked as they packed up to go. “I do,” Dante answered automatically. “Truth be told, I’m not surprised. It makes sense that Father would take action.”

  Eli nodded. “There was something about the avian that made me want to trust him. I only hope he was right and we can help.”

  As they headed toward Tachaka, Eli spent half the time under glamour, narrowly dodging patrols and sometimes only escaping notice because of Dante’s instinctual knowledge of how to handle others of his kind. Dante hoped that once he spoke to his father, he’d managed to temper Aran’s anger. If he didn’t, their friends would most definitely be killed. Not only that, but Aran’s sorrow for Dante’s loss would be seen as a weakness in the eyes of other bloodkin. Alas, a weak Imperator was a dead one, and Dante had no doubt that Gideon wouldn’t hesitate to assassinate Aran if he got a chance. He wasn’t so sure about Valerian, as he’d never truly managed to understand his middle sibling. They didn’t even share mothers, so they weren’t close. Nevertheless, the fact remained that the only way to avoid disaster was for the two of them to contact Aran.

  As they traveled closer and closer to Tachaka, dread swelled inside Dante. It wasn’t that he feared his father. Yes, Aran had killed him once, but it had been an accident. Dante didn’t even blame him for that. However, even as they approached more and more, Eli was clearly beginning to have doubts, remembering the last time they’d seen the Imperator, hatred and frustration pooling in his gut at the memory of Dante lying on the floor of Aran’s quarters while Eli could do nothing to help. No matter what Dante felt for his father, Eli certainly didn’t share his emotions in that regard.

  Dante had also discovered that no one but Eli could see him or hear him. He could enter Eli’s body at will now, but unfortunately, he couldn’t linger there, as it was too taxing on Eli’s physical form. For that reason, Eli grew increasingly pale and thin, as if Dante’s presence was draining him of life. Dante almost wished he’d never returned at all. Perhaps it would have been better.

  By the time they reached the bloodkin capital, Dante no longer even knew what he wanted. To be given his life back, certainly. But what if that wasn’t possible? What would he do then? Aran would never allow them to leave. How would Eli be received by Dante’s father? It was terrifying, and Dante hovered on the edge of indecision, aching to tell Eli to go back.

  He didn’t do it, though, instead showing Eli a secret way inside and beyond the Tachakan dome, introducing the elf to everything his father had taught him. That night, they went to rest at a Tachakan inn, with Eli taking the guise of a bloodkin traveler. It was for that reason that they overheard talk of new prisoners in the palace.

  “It must be Kier,” Eli whispered later, as they retreated to their rented room. “We don’t have much time left.”

  Manifesting in front of his lover, Dante nodded. “It’s likely, yes. We need to hurry.”

  “Do you know a safe way into the palace? If we don’t get to your father in time, it will be too late for them, and us.”

  Dante mused over Eli’s words. He had considered a possible strategy to reach his father and contact him all throughout the trip. In the end, he’d figured out a solution, although it was a little risky. “My father has always been a very faithful man,” he explained. “His quarters would be well guarded, but there is a temple dedicated to the Mother Earth, strictly for the use of the imperial family. There are guards, of course, but because my father needs his privacy, their number is usually not as high. There’s no telling if he changed that, too, but I’d say it’s our best bet.”

  “It’s a good idea,” Eli said. “I can use an invisibility glamour to slip past the soldiers, as long as it’s not for a long period of time.”

  Dante sighed. “You’re tired. So very tired. I wish I could make this easier on you.”

  Eli beamed at him, and for a moment, the expression of pure adoration on the elf’s face took Dante aback. “Your presence makes everything worthwhile. Come to me. Come in me.”

  Dante desperately wanted to take his lover, no, his mate. He’d grown more and more convinced that he and Eli were soul mates. Even if he hadn’t believed that bloodkin shared this characteristic with their elven ancestors, it seemed so obvious now, and so very real. He wanted to protect Eli so badly, to treasure him and keep him in a place where nothing bad, tiring, or frustrating would ever touch him.

  As much as he’d have liked to make love to Eli once again, he decided against it. “Sleep now, baby. We have all the time in the world to be together.”

  Eli didn’t seem very happy about his words, or very convinced for that matter. Nevertheless, he complied. It was a testament of how truly weary he’d been that, the moment he crawled into the bed and placed his head on the pillow, he surrendered to slumber.

  Dante lay down next to him, watching him and occasionally caressing his face. A side effect of his state was that he didn’t need to sleep, which often came in handy. He could at least help Eli by always keeping watch when they made camp in the wild so that the elf didn’t have to lose precious hours of rest for that task. For his part, he liked admiring Eli, wondering how he’d been so lucky to find the elf and so unlucky in that he couldn’t truly enjoy life at Eli’s side.

 
Questions swirled through his mind, countless doubts badgering at his brain. He’d never feared the sunlight, as his blue blood provided him with strength beyond that of normal bloodkin. Now, however, he was terrified of the next day, jumping at each noise coming from outside their room, wondering if someone would figure out who they really were. After all, more often than not it was strange for a bloodkin to spend the night inside. They were beings of darkness, and in spite of the dome, that metabolism had been preserved.

  Fortunately, the innkeepers seemed to have believed Eli’s excuse of being tired after his trip. No one bothered them, and the hours flew with no incident. When Eli opened his eyes, he looked a little more rested. Dante wished he could offer his mate a nourishing meal, but that would truly draw attention, something they couldn’t afford.

  “We should go,” Eli said, already in motion as he stole a look outside. “How long did I sleep?”

  “All night,” Dante replied. At Eli’s shocked look, Dante realized the elf wasn’t used to the way days looked in Tachaka. “Yes, it’s morning. But you needed the rest.”

  Eli glowered at him. “We agreed last night that we didn’t have much time at our disposal.”

  “Well, if you must know, baby, it’s best for us to enter the palace at this hour anyway,” Dante explained. “The guards will be weaker and less vigilant. They’re more likely to miss our approach.”

  At that, Eli no longer seemed so put out. He just nodded jerkily, fixed his clothes, and grabbed the bags. “Lead the way,” he said.

  They left the building after paying a disgruntled and confused innkeeper. As they slipped through the Tachakan streets, Eli became a stealthy shadow, again careful not to draw attention. There were also humans in Tachaka, mostly blood donors, but they were retreating to their homes as well, having adopted the metabolism of their masters. Under the circumstances, when Dante spotted a familiar silhouette through the corner of his eye, it was easy for him to identify it.