Dante finger-fucked him roughly, occasionally brushing against his prostate, but more often than not, deliberately missing. Eli realized it was on purpose because Dante never made mistakes, not in this. The bloodkin knew Eli’s body better than Eli himself, and it seemed that he did plan to teach Eli a little lesson on who was truly in charge. He massaged the walls of Eli’s channel for what seemed like forever, providing teasing caresses that never quite materialized into what Eli wanted. Then, he started ruthlessly rubbing Eli’s special spot, causing him to push back against those invading digits just so that he could have more. Then, he removed his fingers from Eli’s ass and nudged Eli’s opening with the head of his dick. Eli held his breath in anticipation, and groaned as Dante’s cock started to slide in. Slowly, the shaft popped past the first ring of guardian muscles, penetrating Eli’s opening. One instant passed and Eli was just about to shove himself against that delicious dick, and then, Dante was gone. The bloodkin’s dick left Eli’s body and didn’t return, leaving Eli feeling empty and confused.
Two more slaps followed, and then a nearly painful squeeze of Eli’s dick. Then, over and over, a repeat of the sexual torture, giving Eli what he craved so badly then snatching it away at the last moment. It was beyond Eli’s power of comprehension how Dante could have such self-control. For Eli’s part, he was already in tears, babbling pleas for mercy and swearing he would never disobey again.
Just when Eli thought Dante would surely kill him, Dante suddenly positioned his dick at Eli’s opening. Instead of the slow glide from before, he thrust inside, so hard Eli’s teeth rattled. By now, Eli was a little more stretched due to Dante’s games, a side effect which Dante must have expected and likely intended. Still, Dante’s size would have likely hurt him if not for the peculiar effect Eli had already gotten used to. Sometimes, Eli almost wished it gone since it was a symptom of a larger issue, but right then and there, he was grateful for it as it allowed them to come together without worrying the bloodkin would actually hurt him.
They fell into a beautiful rhythm, with Dante moving in and out of Eli, shoving his dick hard inside Eli’s channel. Eli pushed back against Dante, seeking more of the addicting sensations, more of Dante. He was on fire, and nothing mattered except pursuing his wild desire for Dante. Lust pulsed through his veins, burning him from the inside out. Distantly, Eli wondered how a member of a species so sensitive to sunlight could cause such sensations within Eli. For his part, Eli had always loved the sun—it was a large part of the life of a light elf—but not even the beautiful rays he still missed could compare to the brightness of Dante’s soul, to the scorching heat the bloodkin emitted. Eli might have loved seeing the sun, but he loved Dante more.
It was all so beautiful, and yet so raw and purely carnal that soon, Eli was on the brink of climax. And Dante still wouldn’t relent, continuing to drive in and out of him with that same near-ruthlessness that helped him drive Eli wild with desire. It was pointless to resist and a losing battle to attempt doing so. The pleasure kept building until at last, Eli couldn’t take it anymore. Three more thrusts, and it was all over. Crying out Dante’s name, Eli came, his spunk flying all over the marble platform.
To his credit, he wasn’t the only vocal one in this relationship. As Eli felt Dante’s dick pulsing inside him and wet heat filled him, Dante released a groan of his own. “Eli…Oh, baby.”
And then, something changed. Usually, after making love with Dante, Eli floated on a cloud of absolute pleasure, surrendering himself to the ecstasy Dante had provided. At first, he thought things would be exactly this way, but it didn’t happen. Instead, out of the blue, Eli felt a strange force sweep through him, reaching to the very core of his being. It shook him, as if a whirlpool had appeared in his soul and was sapping out his energy, his emotions. Oddly enough, it seemed like this force was reaching specifically for his feelings toward Dante. Eli would have opened his heart to it, hoping for the best, but the heat of Dante’s presence began to dissipate, and that scared him. As his vision focused, he tried to turn toward his mate, but he realized the strange sculpted vines on the platform had now wrapped around his wrists and legs, keeping him bound. For good or ill, he was stuck.
He couldn’t see the priests anymore, but he could hear them, chanting somewhere to his left. They must have gone next to the casket, Eli realized. Toward the end, he’d completely forgotten what they’d come here to do, what their purpose was and what his focus should have been on.
He might have actually felt a little guilty, but he couldn’t concentrate on such an emotion, not when he was so confused and frightened. Surprisingly, the Imperator appeared in front of him and gripped his chin. “Look at me, Eli. Focus. You can do this. Just open yourself and think about how much you want Dante to come back to you, to us.”
Eli had the urge to say that they wouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place if not for Aran’s foolishness and hunger for power. But now was not the moment for such things. Eli actually wondered where the Imperator had been while Dante had been fucking him, but it was probably fortunate that he’d stayed out of sight. Nevertheless, this time, he didn’t move away, keeping those eerily familiar eyes on Eli. “Focus,” he repeated. “You’re the only one who can help him. I know you love him. I know how much he means to you. Bring him back.”
For some reason, Aran’s words helped. Perhaps it wasn’t even the words themselves, but the sight of those jet-black orbs so alike to those Eli had once fallen in love with. Eli ignored everything else about the man in front of him and kept looking at his eyes. Aran and Dante were very similar, so it wasn’t very hard for Eli to imagine his lover there instead of the Imperator.
Of course, Aran was perfectly correct. Eli could do this. He wanted to do this. It was the reason why he’d come to Tachaka, after all. Yes, he’d aimed to help Kier and Cole, but in the end, if he’d been forced to choose between Kier and Dante…Eli didn’t really want to think too much about that, but suffice to say, he now understood Kier so much better and regretted rejecting Kier for so long because of his love for Cole Bloodmoor.
Love. It all came down to love. Eli strongly believed in his and Dante’s relationship. Even in their incipient form, the feelings between them had been strong enough from keeping Dante’s soul from vanishing into the world of the dead. Now that they had grown so much, how could they not be able to bring Dante back?
Still holding the Imperator’s gaze, Eli pushed aside the fear and allowed his every emotion to flow through him, to feed this strange power. He experienced a measure of panic when his vision began to dim, but he didn’t allow it to stop him. This was for Dante. Dante, the man who had given Eli new insight on true love. Dante, the one who’d made Eli understand sacrifice and loyalty, but also passion and nearly obsessive desire. Dante, the single most important thing in Eli’s life. No matter what happened, Eli had to bring him back, to give Dante a full life. He had to fix this, to wipe the horrors of the past so that Aran and Dante’s relationship could finally return to what it had once been. As much as he resented the Imperator, Dante actually worshipped his father, and Eli lived for Dante’s happiness.
Memories flashed through Eli’s mind, both old and new. Himself, growing up in Manturanael, learning the ways of his people. After that, he and Kier, experiencing the stirrings of first love. Their youthful fumbling, their laughter, the passion they had shared. And then, their separation and the pain Eli had felt when his father had sent Kier away. The bitter taste of the betrayal that had nearly crushed him when he’d learned of Kier’s relationship with Cole Bloodmoor. He had thought he’d never love again, but he’d been so very wrong. His true soul mate had been another one, a bloodkin with a wicked smile and glittering black eyes. Eli remembered how much he’d desired Dante from the very beginning and the terror that had gripped him upon realizing the extent of that lust. He remembered their first kisses, exchanged in the worst circumstances possible. He recalled Dante feeding off him, the eroticism of the moment branded into h
is body, heart, and mind for all time. And of course, he could never shake the horror of the sight of Dante dying in Aran’s arms.
But it had not been the end. Dante had returned to him. For that amazing strength, for the affection Dante had showered him with, Eli wanted to give his mate everything he was and would ever be.
“I love you,” he thought, for no reason in particular. “I love you so very much.”
He didn’t know if Dante had heard him. He certainly hoped so, as he didn’t think he could have spoken, and he truly wanted to let Dante know how he felt. In fact, he didn’t get to say anything else. His world turned into darkness and exhaustion, and the last thing he could focus on was his hope that this hadn’t been for naught.
* * * * Dante didn’t have too much faith in his father’s priests. Oh, the men were well intentioned enough, and they genuinely wanted to help, but they didn’t seem to have any clue on how to solve Dante’s problem.
As such, he had not believed this strange experiment would amount to anything useful. He’d only gone through with it because of Eli’s insistence. Besides, he’d been horny, and he found with great surprise that in this form, arousal could be just as torturous and potent as before.
The last thing Dante had expected when he’d agreed to it, though, was to be snatched away from Eli just as he was riding the last waves of his climax. At first, he tried to fight it, uncertain as to what was happening, but then, he remembered the purpose of their little visit here, and he attempted to open himself to the process.
It seemed to work, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, Dante experienced a very real surge of hope. He felt himself float and was dismayed upon realized he was being pulled away from Eli. But he had to believe it was for the best. Their separation would only be temporary. Likely Dante was being returned to his own body in the crystal casket, and if that was the case, their wait would soon be over. Dante would be able to claim his mate in every way. Oh, they would be so immensely happy together.
He watched Eli attempt to turn, and realized that oddly enough, the sculpted vines had wrapped around the elf’s arms and legs, keeping him from moving. He didn’t like that, and liked the fear in Eli’s stance even less. But then, Dante’s father made his way to Eli’s side and gripped the elf’s chin. Oddly, the elf relaxed, which in turn eased some of Dante’s tension. Eli didn’t like Aran, resented him for what had happened, something which Dante regretted, but had expected. Now, though, the Imperator’s presence, or perhaps his resemblance to Dante seemed to soothe Eli. Dante had hope that one day, the two men he loved most in the world would come to care about each other as well.
As he thought this, an influx of emotion prodded him closer to the crystal casket. For a few moments, Dante lost track of Eli and Aran. He lost track of most everything, his muscles becoming rigid, his vision darkening. All of a sudden, he felt very cold, and what he did see seemed filtered through a strange, blurry veil.
His reason translated these new sensations with ease and reached the natural conclusion. He was in his own body, the one his father had preserved so religiously, in spite of not knowing that Dante’s spirit had survived his death. He’d have been ecstatic, but before his soul could get accustomed to his new condition, something else pulled at him. It was Eli. Eli was in danger.
No matter how much Dante had wanted to return to his normal life, Eli was more important. Pushing away the strange power that had helped him so much, Dante hastened to his mate’s side. Aran stood by Eli’s platform, looking like he didn’t know what to do. In the meantime, Eli was pale, barely breathing at all and seemingly sapped of all strength.
“What’s happening?” Dante shouted as soon as he reached Eli, pulling at the stone vines.
He almost feared that they wouldn’t hear him since his effect on the world of the living varied. However, they did. The priests rushed forward, possibly intending to help. They didn’t have to intervene, though, as the strange bindings retreated back into the platform at Dante’s touch.
Dante couldn’t possibly figure out what had caused them to appear, but he didn’t have the time to focus on that right now. Instead, he directed the entirety of his attention on Eli. He caught Eli before the elf could collapse painfully on the slab and turned him over. His father snapped out of his trance and took off his cloak, covering Eli with it and providing some heat and modesty.
“What are you doing?” he asked the clerics. “He needs medical assistance.”
While the priests joined them next to the platform, Dante checked Eli’s vital signs. It was truly very hard to say what had gone wrong. The only thing Dante could tell was that Eli seemed to be suffering of extreme exhaustion. Dante had witnessed similar symptoms before. It usually happened when Eli tried to sustain both their souls for too long. Obviously, something similar had occurred now, but to an even more worrisome extent. And Dante could do next to nothing to help his mate. He realized then that his return to his physical form had gained him something, a solidity that he hadn’t had before. But how would that help him if his mate got hurt in the process?
“If you’d please give us room to work, Your Highness,” one priest said, “we will examine your mate.”
Dante obeyed silently. Priests were by their nature skilled in medical work. The high priest in particular was required to have knowledge in several fields. Some bloodkin might not hold onto their original faith, and most of the ways of the Mother Earth had been lost, but the priests remained a strong force, especially in times of turmoil and transition. They had their own specialized army, the Inquisitors, bloodkin no one could deceive and who mostly intervened when the country was shaken by assassinations or other such attacks.
Fortunately, in spite of the fact that the priests were specialized in bloodkin physiology, elves were similar enough for the clerics to have a full grasp of what they were dealing with. Knowing that they were eminently capable of handling the problem helped Dante very little, however. He paced through the room, mentally praying to Mother Earth and cursing himself for having gone along with this insane plan in the first place.
Dante watched as the men took Eli’s pulse and whispered incantations. One of them brought a sort of strange oil and rubbed Eli’s chest and extremities with it. They worked in silence, and Dante did his best not to get in their way.
Finally, the high priest turned toward him and spoke. “His condition is stable,” he said solemnly, “but he is very weak. We need to get him to a more comfortable place, so that we can provide him with the best of medical care.”
Dante felt like he was back in that moment when his father had struck him with the dagger. No, it had hurt less. “But he will recover, right?” he asked, his voice trembling.
“It is likely,” the priest answered. “Please, Highness, trust us. We will take care of him.”
Anger flared through Dante. “I can hardly trust you enough to touch him at all. You had us go through this ritual and now—”
“Dante,” his father interrupted him. “This isn’t helping anyone. We must keep our heads and figure out what is best for Eli.”
“We should get him to your quarters,” a priest finally suggested. “He will likely be more comfortable there. And after that…Well, the only thing you can do is wait and hope.”
Wait and hope. As he heard those words, there was nothing he wanted to do more than to pounce the priest and tear his throat out. But his father was right in that violence would not help Eli. So he remained silent and followed the priests out of the temple as they carried Eli with great care. They’d better hope that Eli did indeed recover, because if not, they’d regret having been born.
Chapter Four
Eli floated through the darkness of unconsciousness, aware of very little except the very clear possibility of being stuck here. He wondered idly if this was death, but no, it didn’t feel right. He was just so weary. He wanted to sleep, to remain here and rest for a while longer. Dante wouldn’t mind. Dante always understood him.
The distant thought almost seemed to open a mental pathway through the darkness. The sound of angry voices reached out to him, urging him to return to the real world. “You forced this on him!” an angry man said. “He could have died. It might still happen. How could you do this to me, Father? How?”
He sounded so sweetly familiar to Eli, and even in his exhausted state, he easily recognized Dante. On instinct, he wanted to reach out to the bloodkin, to tell him everything would be all right.
“Dante, stay calm,” another voice said. “He’s fine. He’s just weakened by the process. We did the right thing.”
It took a little more effort to figure out the identity of the second speaker, but Eli’s logic managed to identify him as Aran. The Imperator appeared to be attempting to calm Dante down, but it wasn’t working at all.
“The right thing?” Dante repeated in disbelief. “Mother Earth, how can you say that? Look at him.”
Whatever Dante was urging Aran to observe didn’t make Dante happy in the slightest. “I admit I had my doubts in bringing him to Tachaka. And then I saw how you treated him. I saw your openness toward him, and I dared to have hope. Apparently, I was mistaken.”
“We’re on the right track, Highness,” another man said. “If you’d just be good enough to notice…”
“Silence!” Aran bellowed. “My son is completely correct. You have failed him. I have failed him by not keeping his mate safe.”
At that, Eli opened his eyes. As his vision began to clear of the dizziness, he saw that he’d been returned into his chambers at some point. Dante, Aran, and a man he recognized as a one of the priests who’d been present for the ritual were talking a few feet away from the bed Eli lay in.
Honestly, Eli didn’t know what was going on. The last thing he remembered was being on the marble platform and having sex with Dante. No, there had been something else. Eli had been fighting to help Dante’s soul return into his body. Had something gone wrong? He couldn’t recall.
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