The Mates Who Gave Him Salvation [Feral 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour ManLove)
Page 1
Feral 2
The Mates Who Gave Him Salvation
Banished to the astral realm, witch G’aladon suffers for centuries within the void. His soul awakens when he finds his wolf mate, Roarke. He knows he doesn’t deserve love, but in his despair, he reaches out to Roarke, regardless. Unfortunately, their unfulfilled connection drives Roarke feral.
When psychic Quinn appears into their lives, hope reemerges. However, G’aladon realizes that he cannot taint his men with his sins. He only wishes to free himself, and them, from the agony of his existence. He wishes for death.
Quinn and Roarke aren’t willing to lose G’aladon. All the while, their bond is strained by Roarke’s feral nature and the possibility of him driving Quinn insane. Seeking help from the spirit wolves, they struggle to find a way out of an inescapable situation and unwittingly make new enemies in the process. Can Quinn and Roarke give G’aladon salvation, or will their love be defeated?
Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Shape-shifter
Length: 36,729 words
THE MATES WHO GAVE HIM SALVATION
Feral 2
Scarlet Hyacinth
MENAGE AMOUR
MANLOVE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour ManLove
THE MATES WHO GAVE HIM SALVATION
Copyright © 2012 by Scarlet Hyacinth
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-183-2
First E-book Publication: August 2012
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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DEDICATION
Thank you to everyone who purchased the first book. I hope you enjoy this one as well.
THE MATES WHO GAVE HIM SALVATION
Feral 2
SCARLET HYACINTH
Copyright © 2012
Prologue
G’aladon turned a page of the tome he was studying, absently making notes of the items he would need for his next spells. Nothing in the book seemed of interest to him. Courtesy of the ritual he had gone through, his power had become more intense than he himself had expected and the knowledge that now flooded his mind could fill an entire library. Unfortunately, this meant that he encountered real problems in finding new material to further his magic.
Abandoning the rare tome on the table, G’aladon got up. It was clear to him that, at this point, he could only explore his newly acquired powers through his own concentrated effort. No one else had managed to reach the extents G’aladon had. No other witch had dared to fully pursue the potential of their abilities.
G’aladon knelt in the center of the room and closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he focused on the new core of energy within him. Once, that place had been inhabited by a soul, but now, he had surpassed those limitations. He could wield devastating power over matter. Whether the object of his spell was a table or a human, he could destroy and manipulate with merely a thought.
In truth, he had been able to cast those enchantments before. However, his new magic had given him more, the ability to create living things, slaves to do his bidding. G’aladon smiled to himself. It had been something reserved for the gods, but now it was within his reach. With his new powers, he could rule the world and become a god himself. He could live forever and exploit all these ants that called themselves people.
Power flowed through him as he bonded with the dark energy. The first time he had tried it, he’d set fire to his laboratory, which would have been upsetting had he not managed to learn the fine art of recreating every magic item he’d lost.
He was deeply in meditation when he heard something at the door. Knowing all too well that he wouldn’t be able to focus with that presence lurking at the edge of his consciousness, G’aladon opened his eyes.
“Yes?” he inquired.
An orc entered the room, fidgeting in the doorway as if nervous. Normally, G’aladon might have been irritated, but he’d forgone his emotions upon becoming who he was now. Instead of bothering with annoyance, he usually just killed whoever interfered in his activities. However, G’aladon suspected the orc might actually have something to tell him.
“What is it?” he asked of his underling as he got up.
“Your Lordship, you have a visitor. A woman.”
A woman? G’aladon grimaced. He had many concubines, since so far, he had failed in making the Oriakai attractive enough to use them as sexual partners. Once he sated his body, he always left them behind, and he didn’t bother inquiring into their welfare in any way.
“She came here? Did she say what she wanted?”
“Not at first,” the orc replied. His lips twisted in an incipient, wicked grin. “But we are convincing, Your Lordship, and we knew you didn’t like to be bothered.” Once again, his expression turned grim, almost cautious. It irritated G’aladon, since the Oriakai were supposed to be soulless—like him. “She claims that she is with child,” the creature fini
shed.
G’aladon could almost imagine how he’d have reacted a while back. He’d have hissed in fury and perhaps blasted the unfortunate messenger. As it was, he just watched the orc impassively. “I expect she must have come here looking for money. I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint her.”
G’aladon debated his next move. He eyed the orc, who’d been idiotic enough to allow her inside his residence in the first place. Those displays of emotion had been quite disturbing to see. They shouldn’t appear in his carefully crafted army. He considered dispatching his underling, but decided it could wait. Besides, for all his stupidity, the orc had actually done a good thing. It was in fact fortunate that he’d learned of this before the woman could actually birth her offspring.
Foolish, misguided humans. G’aladon’s power impressed them, and while G’aladon appreciated that, he needed to point out that he was no gentle lord available any day to soothe their wounds and listen to their woes. Perhaps now, they would learn.
G’aladon smiled, something he hadn’t done in a long time. The Oriakai seemed startled, and G’aladon mentally told himself to deal with him as soon as possible. Such failure would not do from the creatures that would be his army.
“Lead her inside,” he said. “I will discuss things with her in private.”
“Yes, Your Lordship. At once.”
The orc bowed lowly and fled to do G’aladon’s bidding, proving that he wasn’t so stupid after all. For that little wisdom, G’aladon decided to give him a swift death—once he dealt with the woman, of course.
A few moments later, a tall, black-haired girl was ushered inside. She showed no signs of her condition, but instantly, G’aladon knew she had been telling the truth. She truly was pregnant with his child.
She’d been a bit roughed up by the Oriakai, so she shied away from the creatures, cringing whenever they touched her bare flesh. When she saw him, she smiled brightly. “Your Lordship,” she gasped, falling to her knees. “Thank the gods. I almost thought these things would keep me from you.”
As well they should have, G’aladon thought to himself. He didn’t utter those words, though. Instead, he waved the orcs off and, as his underlings abandoned the room, helped the woman to her feet.
She was young, just barely twenty winters now. G’aladon didn’t remember her name, but he did recall having coupled with her the previous solstice. She had been passionate, willing, and responsive, and a maiden, too. What a waste.
“My parents banished me when they learned I was with child,” she said with a trembling voice. “The priest did not want to help when he knew I’d lain with Your Lordship. I did not know where else to go.”
G’aladon tsked. Of course her kin had pushed her away. G’aladon’s blood in the child’s veins was enough to give the unborn babe great power. For that reason, G’aladon had no intention of allowing the woman to give birth.
“You did well in coming here,” he said. “Don’t worry. It won’t hurt. A lot.”
Her eyes widened, and she took a step back. With a quick muttered spell, he stopped her, and she froze in her tracks, watching him with wild eyes. He caressed her soft cheek with his finger. She truly was pretty, so much so that he briefly entertained the thought of taking his pleasure one last time with her. Even so, he couldn’t be bothered. Emotionless he might be, but he much preferred taking people who were willing to his bed. Real power lay within seduction, not brutal strength.
He opened his mouth to utter the incantation that would drain her of all life, but the words died in his throat when he felt a strong magical presence nearby. Turning away from the woman, he looked around, and he found himself facing two ghostly figures. A wolf and a panther waited in the center of the room, watching him with glowing eyes.
“Enough of this,” a male voice said, seemingly echoing from the feline. “You have crossed every possible line.”
“You must pay for what you’ve done,” the wolf said in turn.
G’aladon drew on the knowledge provided by his magic and instantly realized who they were. Shaiyta, the wolf called herself, although her people knew her as the Spirit Mother. G’aladon had studied her children a lot, seeking to improve what she had created. He was displeased with the idea that wolf shifters, who should have been powerful beasts, had somehow ended up spiritual creatures.
The panther’s name was Havedok. His people, the spirit felines, were night dwellers, predators who hid in the shadows. Even so, they retained that streak of nobility that, in G’aladon’s opinion, was useless for a powerful person.
Arching his brow at the duo, G’aladon crossed his arms over his chest. “And what can you possibly do?” he inquired. “Kill me?”
“You don’t believe we could do it,” Havedok said. “You’ve always been an arrogant fool.”
G’aladon chuckled. “Say what you will, but I’m not afraid of you.”
He thought he saw Shaiyta shake her head in disappointment, but that couldn’t be, since she was in wolf form. “You deceive yourself,” she said. “You could have been much more than you are, but you have chosen your path.”
G’aladon couldn’t care less about her opinion. Yes, he had chosen his path, and he did not regret it. Never mind that he probably wouldn’t have been able to, even if he’d been so inclined. He considered the power he now controlled a fair trade for his emotions.
He sensed the tension in the air that marked an incoming magic attack. Readying his own spells, G’aladon waited. When the first wave of power struck, he was prepared, and he parried it, pushing it back. Havedok recoiled, releasing a small growl.
“You’re going to have to try harder than that,” G’aladon said.
The two spirit beasts didn’t reply. Instead, they continued their consistent attack, with no success. They were powerful, but he succeeded in holding them off and even casting a few spells of his own. His study suffered greatly due to the magic waves bursting around them, and by now, he wondered where in the world all his orcs had gone that they weren’t rushing to his aid.
No matter. He could deal with this threat on his own. Havedok and Shaiyta might think he was weak because he’d been mortal once, but they’d underestimated him.
The battle continued, and G’aladon never once lost his focus. Distantly, he wondered if once he defeated the spirit beasts, he could take their power. He would truly be invincible then. No one would ever be able to stand in his way.
Urged onward by this thought, G’aladon shouted another, even stronger spell. His enchantment sizzled and died. G’aladon blinked and tried again. But his magic hit something that was far more intense than anything he’d ever experienced. It seemed like a strange chasm was opening up, swallowing his energy, sapping him of his strength. He couldn’t even feel shock when he at last realized their plan.
While they had been sending moderate spells at him, they had been opening a rift in the very fabric of reality. Since G’aladon didn’t have a soul, their spirit magic was wasted on him. However, this advantage came with a trade-off. He was vulnerable to one particular thing, and it hadn’t occurred to him until now that they could use it against him.
So far, G’aladon had studied the astral realm as a sort of distant concept. He acknowledged that it existed, but to him, it was mostly a place dedicated to the spirit, something G’aladon had always considered weak. However, all witches, G’aladon included, could be drawn within it. Their core energy held a connection with the astral realm that could only be severed by death.
G’aladon always took his precautions against all possible threats, but he hadn’t genuinely thought he might suffer such a fate. And yet, here he was now, helpless, being drawn into the void. He tried to fight it, to anchor himself to matter, to the solid reality he knew and controlled. He couldn’t even utter one spell now. He was as frozen as the woman he had intended to kill.
Unlike her, though, G’aladon had no salvation. The relentless energy pulled him closer and closer to the rift. As much as he tried to break fr
ee of its hold, he felt Shaiyta’s and Havedok’s magic fueling it, crushing any chance he had of escape.
Finally, the last threads of control keeping him anchored to this reality snapped under the assault of the magic. G’aladon flew forward, propelled into the astral realm. He managed to turn his head and caught one last look of what had been his home before the rift closed, trapping him.
Without a soul, G’aladon could not feel despair. He also couldn’t control the astral realm, and any attempt he made of fighting the barriers that held him at bay was met with failure.
Everything around him was pure, empty blackness. G’aladon imagined this was what it must be like in a tomb. No, it was worse than that, the sheer void reaching inside him with cold fingers, as if trying to find something that wasn’t there.
G’aladon might have left his soul behind, but he could still experience physical pain, and each second he spent here was like a lifetime. Daggers seemed to pierce his flesh. Gallows threatened to choke him. Cockroaches crawled over his skin and scarabs consumed him, gnawing the flesh off his bones. Snakes bit into his flesh, sending pure poison into his veins.
He tried to tell himself that it wasn’t real, but he knew better now. Everything was real, and in the spirit realm, even imagination had power. Emotions were everything here, and he had traded them for a different magic that was useless to him now.
He didn’t know how long he remained there, trapped in the dark. Ages seemed to fly by, with him unable to do anything to help himself. Sometimes, he thought the continuous agony would one day become too much to endure, but he was never given the freedom to just die. No, it was impossible to die here. He went on to live, to suffer more, to feel the ice, the fire, and the poison of the astral void ripping him from the inside out. Madness encroached against his consciousness, his sanity slipping away more and more. And then, G’aladon slowly started to remember.