She took several steps back, still watching him, and flipped the light on. “Who?” she said with a quiver in her voice. Then, eying him up and down, “What are you?”
The “what” stung a little, but he couldn’t blame her. His appearance was the reason he’d been instructed not to reveal himself to humans.
“I am Dominus, son of Herne. I apologize for my appearance. I know it must be horrifying to you.”
She cocked her head and eyed him up and down in a way that sent small jolts of power through him. “Not horrifying. You startled me. Is that paint on your shoulders?”
“It is a birthmark.” He paused. “A mantle signifying my destiny to become the god of the Winter Solstice.”
“A god,” she mouthed, hugging the bathroom doorway closer. “Son of Herne. As in thee Herne?”
He nodded. “My father is god of the forest. I am one of many sons, some of whom oversee the pagan sabbats.”
“So you being invisible isn’t some government science project?”
“It is the veil pendant.” He nodded to the necklace, which still pulsed with light as it lay on the floor. “It allows gods to walk among humans without scaring them.”
“But you decided to scare me, and you succeeded.” She pulled the towel tighter. “You spied on me naked.”
“I stopped you before you removed the towel.” He leaned back against the wall, considering his words. He could omit the rest, but he opted for full disclosure. “I did see you a few minutes ago, but I was unprepared for you to walk in already disrobed.”
Her swallow was visible. “Why are you here?”
“Did you not invite me? You left an offering.”
“One you didn’t touch.”
“I cannot eat food from the earth realm. But the gesture was correct and much appreciated.”
“I’m not even sure how I knew to leave it out.” She straightened. “It was you, wasn’t it? It’s been you all along, influencing me. Teaching me. My sudden interest in herbal lore, candles, and pagan holidays wasn’t just a random phase.”
“I have been overseeing the seed of power inside you. I’ve whispered to you how to use herbs and intent to nurture and grow that light until Yuletide, rather than allow it to wither and dissipate.” He paused. “Now that time has come, and I am here to help you give birth.”
Her eyebrows rose, disappearing under a playful fringe of bangs. “Birth? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not pregnant.” To demonstrate her point, she ran her hands over the towel, pulling it tight against her flat stomach.
“Not with child, as such. But ripe and ready to bear fruit nonetheless.”
“If it were your business, I would mention that I’m still a virgin. Pathetic as that may sound.”
“Not metaphysically speaking.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He risked a step closer. “You conceived on the eve of Beltane’s fire, taking the seed of the sun’s energy into your body during the sabbat when the sun nears the apex of its strength.”
Her mouth fell open. “I can’t have. I don’t remember doing any such thing.”
“You wouldn’t, considering it was one of my kin who was your partner that night. My brother.”
“What are you trying to say? I was deflowered by an invisible god? How many more of you have there been?”
“None. And it is most unusual that he and I both happened to have chosen you, Lorayna.” He was inching forward, but stopped when she tensed up.
“And you know my name. Of course you do.” She turned to face the mirror with a sigh. “Assuming I’m not insane or dreaming, how can you prove all this?”
“I can show you what I say is true. If you wish to see it.”
She hugged herself, and they stood there, staring, until he wasn’t certain what to do. So he waited.
* * *
Lorayna’s head and heart were pounding. She’d known something—or someone—had been around her for some time now. But maybe she’d been better off not having a man pop into existence and confirm her suspicions. Even if he was inhumanly beautiful. Inhumanly. Yes, that definitely fit, didn’t it?
“Fine,” she heard herself say. “Do it. Prove what you say is true.”
Dominus moved behind her, and she stiffened when he brushed her shoulders. “Don’t be afraid,” he murmured.
“I’m not. Your hands are cold.”
“Look at yourself in the mirror. Look at yourself through the mirror.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
Still, she raised her eyes. The tired woman was gone. Now, her eyes were wide with wonder and startled amazement. It was him, she knew it was. His very presence charged through her like a surge of energy, bringing Frankenstein’s monster to life. And now she was putting him to the test. Or maybe she was really putting herself to the test, checking to see whether she’d gone mad.
She stared at herself, and though it took a minute, she felt pulled into the mirror, a sense that her vision had gone blank. Dominus laid his fingers against her temples, moving close against her. She was barely aware of his face beside hers in the looking glass, and she saw him close his glowing, ice blue eyes. Images flashed in the mirror, whiting out both their reflections. She recognized her bedroom, her lying half dreaming, half awake. Then he came. Not Dominus. Someone else.
“He is Jorandil, son of Herne,” Dominus said. “My brother and keeper of the Beltane sabbat.”
The man shared little resemblance with his sibling, other than the fact that both of them were obviously not human. Both were muscled and beyond gorgeous, of course, but Dominus had short, pale hair that was spiked with a bluish frost. Jorandil had flowing white hair, glowing silver eyes, and more important, massive white wings to match.
Lorayna gasped. “I remember him,” she said. “He was in my dream.”
“It was no dream.”
And she felt the truth of it. Jorandil had whispered to her late at night, asking explicitly for her consent in joining with her for the rite of Beltane. She had consented of her own free will, in a rather determined and un-virgin-like manner, as a matter of fact.
Her cheeks burned as a brief part of the interlude that followed played in the mirror, how Jorandil had moved over her, and she had parted her legs for him…
“Okay,” she said. “I get it. But I don’t remember that it happened. I was sleeping.”
“You wouldn’t have felt him. No pain, no pleasure. Only the truth of your consent, and the subconscious knowledge that you aided in a vital duty to the realms. That is partly why you sought the old ways, Lorayna. Your own mind was seeking to understand that world even before I came to you and whispered of it.”
More pictures came, however, but these were of Dominus. He visited Lorayna, often late at night, when she would be in a deep sleep and only aware in her subconscious that the voice of a god whispered to her of figs with cream, spiced oils, and herbs of hawthorn, mint, and chervil. She wondered whether he smelled the heady aroma of frankincense she had anointed herself with, and whether he liked it.
“It was you,” she said. “It’s been you all along. I’ve felt a presence around me, often at night, but lately it has happened during the day.”
A flicker of what might have been guilt flashed in the intensely beautiful gaze reflected by the mirror. “It was necessary to help nurture the light you conceived,” he said. “So that when the time came for that energy to return to the universe, it will have grown into this.”
He gave her sight a little push, opening her eyes for a moment to the way she must look to him. The light shone around her, tiny rays sparkling against the edges of her skin and glowing within her. She radiated energy, with small, pale wisps straining to escape, much like solar flares bursting off the surface of the sun.
So much radiance and energy. No wonder she had felt so vibrant.
“Oh!” she gasped, but it was a quiet, awestruck thing. “It’s beautiful.”
“You are beautiful,” he
whispered in her ear, and she felt a slight shiver in her shoulders. “And it is time now for the universe to receive back the light it imbued you with, so that we may bring forth a new season.”
She turned herself this way and that, exploring this new sight. “This is why I’ve felt so full, so happy. I thought it was just that I had an extra special amount of holiday spirit this year.”
“And so you have.”
“But it started months ago, all summer and through the fall. And it was comforting to feel that presence touch me at times. To feel you touch me.”
He released his supernatural connection with her, and her vision of the light faded. He turned her to face him then, pushing a strand of hair from her face. He leaned closer, rocked on his feet, and nearly pressed his lips to hers. She parted her lips, waiting, hoping for his kiss, but he blinked and stepped back. She would have been quite happy to let him to do it, but judging by his expression when he pulled away, he didn’t share the feeling. In fact, he appeared a bit stunned. Too bad. She had a rather automatic and growing urge to give into him.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You didn’t do anything.” Unfortunately. And her tone made that disappointment plain enough.
“It is forbidden. You must not be sullied before releasing your pure, innocent light.”
Steam from the bath had dampened his skin, pasting baby tendrils of hair around his face. His cheeks glowed with color as he gazed down at her, his heavy eyelids and full lips so achingly seductive. He couldn’t sully her beforehand. What about after?
“I’m not sure I can give up the feeling, though,” she said. “I don’t think I’m ready.”
“You are ready,” he said. “And there is no choice in the matter, I’m afraid.”
She sighed, aware that the tangy spice of wassail followed on her breath. “What do I do now? I don’t know how to release light.”
“Yes, you do. It is instinct.” He glanced over at the tub, and she did too. The steam was already dwindling on the bathwater. “What did you want to do right before you sensed my presence?”
“I was about to take a bath.”
A smile curved up one side of his face as he gave a slow shake of his head. “That’s not what I meant.” He leaned closer, almost enough for her to dare him to lose his resolve by kissing him. “Your instinct was pushing you for exactly what was necessary. What were you aching for? What did every inch of your body long for you to do while you were soaking in that tub?”
How could he know what she’d been thinking? Had he seen her touching herself? Her face grew hot. “I’m not sure that’s your business.”
“That is not only my business, but my duty. For you to give birth to that sunlight, you must give yourself over to the most profound release of energy a human can experience.”
She blinked. “And you planned to help yourself while I did it? While staying invisible, without me even knowing. Just like your brother.”
“Those who bear the Yuletide sun are aware of a presence and are accepting of it. All except for you, that is. You insisted on seeing who was attending you before accepting me.” He stepped back and raised his arms. “And so here I am.”
Her eyes ran over him, and the assessment fell somewhat short of mere innocent curiosity. She pictured him standing there, watching her masturbate in the tub and joining in with her none the wiser. A flash of anger shot through her at the thought that she’d almost been deprived of knowing the god of Yule himself, embodying every erotic fantasy she could imagine, had been present with her.
“Would you have, you know, had me without me ever knowing?”
“My ‘having’ of anything is not what is required here. I merely lend my energy to yours as you extract that light.”
She eyed him for a moment. “You lend your energy.” He nodded. “So, to put it plainly, you stand by and help while I masturbate myself to climax?”
Her stomach heated at the frank sexual way she was able to talk to him. Yep, her virginity had clearly escaped when she hadn’t been looking.
Dominus gave a single nod. “Midnight approaches,” he murmured. “The time is now.”
“What if I don’t do it?” She lifted her chin. “What if I want to keep this light with me?”
“You cannot deny the universe what it needs to bring forth a new season of seasons.”
“The universe has lots of energy.”
“Not like this.” He took her hands, which trembled slightly. “Help me, Lorayna. Help me succeed in the task that is my sacred trust. The birth of the sun is a ritual celebrated across many traditions, a metaphysical necessity in order to maintain balance.”
She looked at him for a moment before letting out a sigh. “All right, then. I’ll help you. Or should I say, I’ll let you help me.”
She could do this. She wanted to do this. Still holding his eyes, she stepped back, pulling at her towel. When it fell away, her heart skipped. She had not merely wandered into a presumably empty bathroom without any clothes on. She was disrobing for a god who, despite his rather annoying resolve to stay away from her, had a deliberate, wanton desire flickering in his pale eyes. As she glanced downward, she noticed other signs that his interest was growing—rather large, in fact, and right between his legs.
Dominus’s eyes took a heated tour of her curves, enough to catch her breath in her throat. The lust blazed in his eyes the way she felt the light burning inside of her, and she ached to bathe the universe in that power, while at the same time regretting the fact that she would have to let go of it to do so.
When she was certain he might act on what seemed obvious between them, he dropped to his knees before her in reverence, bowed his head, and whispered words in another language. Her eyes widened. The words made no sense, yet filled her with wonder and respect for a god who would bow to a mere human woman. He didn’t need to tell her for her to know that he was whispering a Yule blessing over her. When he was finished, he looked up at her and nodded.
She turned and stepped into the bath, and he took her hand to help steady her on the way. After lowering herself, she reclined there, aware that her full breasts were bobbing just above the level of the water, and rested her head on the back of the tub. Candlelight flickered with urgency now, as did her pulse, while her shaking hand slipped beneath the water to begin its work.
Could she stare into those eyes, so intense, while her fingers probed her pussy curls? A vestige of modesty shot through her, and she closed hers instead. A need swelled in her that was more primal, more insistent than she had ever felt. Did all his women respond this way while he guided them through the Yule ritual? How many had there been?
Her ardor slipped a bit at the thought, at knowing that she was only in his sights because of the light inside her, not because he had truly wanted her. She would do his bidding, and he would leave her forever. Her fingers stopped moving, and her eyes popped open. She avoided his gaze, however. She stared at the beads of water slowly dripping from the faucet.
“Where have you gone?” he asked her.
“I’m sorry. I told you, I’m not sure I can do this.”
“You must. The light cannot remain inside you forever.”
“And you won’t stay once I let it go.”
There was a pause. “Perhaps it was a mistake for me to reveal myself.”
Now she looked at him. “Whether you know it or not, you revealed yourself the first time you came to me. I’ve been aware of you ever since.” She flicked an air bubble on the surface with her fingernail. “Do all your women get this performance anxiety?”
“All my women?”
“How long have you been doing this?”
He blinked. “I was appointed god of Yule when I came of age. This year marks the millennial, the Thousand Seasons.”
Her mouth fell open. “A thousand women? Plus whoever else you’ve taken as lovers in between.” She sat up, splashing him a little. “Are you married? Is there some hot
goddess waiting for you to come home from work? Because that’s all this is, isn’t it? Your job.”
Why was she acting like this? She didn’t even know this man. This being. Yet she was actively trying to stick her hooks in him, get him to admit that there was something between them outside his sacred duty to the universe. How ridiculous. Shameful.
He knelt beside her. “I am unwed, a necessity for a sabbat god. I can only tell you that my focus has been on you since the day after Beltane. And you are the first woman I have ever attended and prepared for the ritual myself. Such is normally handled by attendants who serve the Counsel of Sabbats.”
Her heart skipped at that, and she met his eyes. “What made you decide to prepare me yourself?”
His gaze penetrated deep, until all she could draw were shallow breaths. “It was necessary. The attendants were busy with preparations for the Thousand Seasons.”
“Oh.” She sat back again. Her body flushed, she saw, her skin red even though the bath water was not that hot. She was heating up inside. The power in her was rising up, begging to be free.
“Lorayna,” he said, and the way he whispered sent a shiver over her fevered skin. Her nipples hardened at the very sound of her name on his lips. “Please.”
The power in his voice took over, and her eyes closed. With a sigh, her muscles unwound, and she gave into his command. She was barely aware that she arched her back with her legs spread. Both her hands reached down, stroking her sex, and desire grew. The need for release pulsed like a living thing, and her breathing labored while she worked herself.
She heard a small moan, and it was not from her. She opened her eyes to see Dominus’s lips were moist and parted, and his breath was coming faster now, shallower, prompting her to rub herself harder.
“Kiss me,” she said.
She saw the flicker in his gaze. “I cannot,” came the hoarse reply. “But I can offer you this.”
He laid his hands over hers, lending his energy to her own, and helped guide her fingers to dip inside her wet pussy and slide up along her clit. She gave a grateful groan and slipped lower in the water. One leg was draped over the edge now, and she could see Dominus gritting his teeth, beads of glittering perspiration on his forehead while he pressed his groin against the side of the tub. The light inside her burned brighter, hotter, while her motions grew jerkier and more fevered.
Dominus: God of Yule Page 3
