Serpents nose the sides of my buttocks, the fronts of my thighs. Theriss, pulls up, long and slow, her lips bumping over her coiled tongue. When she drives back down, taking me deep, her serpents strike. Four or five sets of diamond shard teeth pierce my flesh. Their points are a brilliant pain; the wounds sear, temper. Heat spreads from them like boiling water.
My clumsy hands clutch her head, her shoulders. My vision blurs; the gentle sucking of her mouth is almost too much, a raw nerve. This settles, too. I feel her movements and I see them inside my mind. Theriss is real and present, but she’s also a red-hot shape in my thoughts. My senses and hers, I can feel them both, I realize. Her jaw softens, and the move buries my cock deep in her throat, and I feel what she feels, taste what she tastes.
I wonder, somewhere deep beneath the haze of pleasure, why Finna’s gift doesn’t resist this. Maybe because I accepted the venom willingly?
Her tits rest heavy in my palms, the difference in sensation between scales and flesh dizzying, leaving me feeling drunk. I bend and take a nipple in my mouth, soft, thick-skinned and throbbing like a heartbeat against my tongue. She tastes like spring water and sweet green plants, like the herbs mountain healers brew to make intoxicants. I suck her harder and she gasps, returns the favor.
When my legs start to shake, and the pleasure is so intense I can’t cum, Theriss’ tongue twists again, harder, its slick length pushing deep against the base. I fall over the edge, pulse, but she constricts, choking off the flow. It builds, and builds, and she feels it, too, moaning over my cock. When I’m sure I’ll explode, when pleasure is so powerful it almost turns to pain, her tongue goes slack. Pent up pressure releases, and I cum hot and hard down her throat, a torrent that she takes willingly.
Theriss pulls free, shudders. Her venom courses through me, and despite finishing moments before, I throb, hard, ready for more. She wraps my cock in scaled hands and pumps it, once, and bites her lip.
Her tail brushes my ankle and she circles me; once, twice, trapping me in the heat of her coil.
Her pussy, high and engorged, slicks over my tip while she twines her arms around my neck and sucks my bottom lip. I try thrusting; her nails bite my ass and she holds me fast, coils strangling a second in punishment. “Lamia aren’t made to be rutted. I’ll take you when I’m ready.”
I work a hand between us. Her pussy blooms further, opening wide. One pass of my finger reveals two openings.
Theriss shudders, head collapsing to my shoulder. “Maideak are forked, spined. Coupling is...brutal.” Her fingers stroke me. “You’re thick, and so smooth.” She shudders again and holds the length of my cock against her slick folds. Her pussy clenches, softens, and begins to undulate. My skin crackles with sensation, nerves molten. Every part of me feels the movement. Her pussy envelopes me, folds like deft fingers, pulling, kneading me into her. Theriss clutches me closer, licking my throat. “Oh Brigd. Lir, I don’t think…” Her hips writhe in the cradle of my palms. “You’re so smooth, hard; so much bigger than our men.”
Feral instinct surges under the influence of her venom. My hips buck of their own volition. Theriss’ s hand smacks, heel digging my hip to drive me back. She’s so hot, tight, that I wonder if she’s right, if it’s too much.
I touch every part of her, soft shoulders, scale-dotted flanks, her straining tits. My hands feel her, taste her, sense the tremble in the thick muscles of her tail. I slide two fingers into the cleft above my cock and find the pulsing bud of her clit. One pass; Theriss shrieks and collapses fully against my chest, breathless. On my next swirl, my cock throbs; it’s not just her pussy. I can feel the movement of my fingers against her body. And Theriss seems to feel me feeling her; she heaves and moans. My fingers slick the wetness of her clit, work her in rough strokes. Her body strings taut, vibrates. Her tension breaks and she cries out against my chest, serpents dancing against me in a frenzy.
I feel every spasm, every wave of pleasure. Her pussy opens, sucks me deep inside plump hot flesh, and I cum before I’m in her to the hilt. This ignites another climax; Theriss lets out a small whimper and her nails dig my back.
My hips strain. I’m aching to fuck her tight pussy, lubricated by my cum. She holds me tight, in her arms, in the twin coils of her tail. I couldn’t thrust if I wanted to. Her pussy grips my cock like a hand, holding tight, then ripples slightly, muscled yet soft. The control she has, inside, it’s unreal. We hold still a moment, panting into each other’s ears. Little snakes run along my face, lick me, taste me.
When her pussy moves in earnest, the urge to thrust passes. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt, holding perfectly still, Theriss not moving, but her passage thrusting along my shaft, milking my cock for strikes of euphoric bliss. We feel everything, but the ecstasy is more than double. It magnifies to a level that threatens my sanity. I’m half afraid that when we’re done, regular feeling will be blank and empty.
We crush each other, my hands gripping the thick-scaled cleft of her writhing ass. My body releases again and again, and lost in the haze of her venom, I lost track of how many times I cum. Theriss hangs from me, arms barely clinging at the sweat of my neck. Her moans stretch into one long ebb and flow that become colors in my mind more than sounds in my ear; red, and violet, and blue. Through it all her pussy slithers up and down my cock, kneading me in, rolling me away, and climbing my shaft all over again.
“Now,” she begs in a whisper, tongue slapping my nipple. “Fuck me the way you fuck your mortal women.”
I don’t know if I can survive the intensity. “Are you-”
Her coils constrict, surging blood into my head, my cock, my gut.
I want to give her what she’s demanding, but I won’t use her the way she’s hinted the maideak do. Her backside thrusts into my caress.
I take her by inches, slowly, driving us both mad.
“It’s so different,” she murmurs, head lolling in the curve of my shoulder, “So different.” Theriss arches her body against mine, letting me have more of her. Her pussy strokes me, gripping gentler before, as I slide in and out, fuck her deep. We build on a slow climb, clumsy and drugged. Sweat drips between her breasts and down my chest. I can feel all of her now; I’m as much serpent as Theriss. We slither against each other, grunting, breathless. Her scales scrape my balls like small fingernails when our urgency builds.
Theriss goes wild, rippling, constricting. She’ll wring the last breath from me before we cum again. Her pussy engorges until it gloves my entire cock. It strokes like hands, sucks like a mouth. I bury inside her without mercy and spend hot in her pussy. Theriss screams, launched on the crest of my orgasm. Her tail wraps tight, so powerful it could crush the life from me, circling my ass and pulling me deeper inside. Her whole body cums, my cock inside her shuddering heat, and my body clenched inside her rippling tail. I grip her face, fill her mouth with my tongue, and we’re one filthy, mindless, intoxicated climax for a moment.
Theriss holds me inside until our shaking passes, and melts into the pool. I collapse beside her, grunting at the cool water and its movement over still-sensitive skin. Theriss relaxes against the smooth stones, eyes closed, lips turned with a smirk. “You were equal, after all.”
“I don’t know.” I close my eyes to ease a pounding head. “I think that still remains to be seen.”
Her hand smooths my thigh, fingers kneading the exhausted, half-soft flesh of my cock and getting a response. She laughs deep in her throat. “I feel pretty confident.” She strokes again, and again, grips tight, and the soft scales of her fingers brush my shaft’s head. Pressure builds, and I moan as, impossibly, I cum again, spurting high and onto her swollen tits.
Little snakes dart down, taste and lick, clean her. They pull back, shuddering with pleasure, as she grins down at me.
My cock aches, abused. I feel emptied and entirely satisfied when the venom recedes. “I see why your women are so prized.”
She smirks. “And feared.”
It takes a minute to get my bala
nce; I sit up too fast and have to take a few deep breaths.
She laughs again, slipping from the water. I feel some regret watching her nipples draw beneath her scales, at her pussy folding in, concealing itself. One more time, I think. And then I think it might kill me, and don’t care. The wrong part of me is making the decisions again.
Theriss shudders experimentally, examining her arms, smoothing her belly. “I feel incredible!”
“That makes both of us,” I murmur, struggling with my armor on half-drunk limbs.
“So, I have a little of all the abilities you’ve been given?”
“And more each time we couple.” I laugh. “So, that already makes fifteen or twenty times.”
Theriss licks her lips. Her snakes dart forward, bare tiny teeth that light with flame. She spins in place, noticeably faster than before, then takes one of her blades and pricks a finger. It heals so quickly that it doesn’t bleed. I laugh with real joy as she experiments.
Theriss undulates up, kisses me hard. “Unbelievable.”
I nod to the portal. “Shall we?”
She smiles, shy. “Is it shameful that I’m a little nervous to meet all of them? It’s been so long since someone powerful was anything but an enemy.”
“It’s not shameful. Considering what you went through here, it seems kind of tame. But they’re just as incredible as you are; you’ll feel at ease in no time.” I pull the last buckle on my cuirass and Theriss inhales deeply, giving the oasis a long look. “I’ll be back. I’m glad to be going, and I’ll be back.”
“You will, because we’re going to defeat Mordenn and break these curses.” I gesture to the portal, letting her step in.
One more trial. That should be reassuring. But as we pass through, a trickle of unease courses down my spine.
-The Garden-
Bargains Made and Broken
“Look!” whispers Theriss, elbowing me. She points across the footbridge, to the grove’s edge. “Isn’t that Crispinus?”
It’s half Crispinus. The other half is...Oh. He and Andraste are twined like lovers, fully clothed, or they could be me and Theriss from a half-hour ago. Her slender white fingers disappear in the ink of his hair, and they kiss with desperation.
“Fuck me. How did I miss it?” He looked different in the arena, a little more average-mortal but I still feel like I should have seen it.
“What? What?” asks Theriss, shaking her head.
I point to the bust behind us, white and gilded, fully restored and gleaming. “It’s hard to explain. I’ll catch you up in a bit.”
Andraste has spotted us. Her cheeks blush a shade that makes it almost impossible to believe she was once stone. The pair start towards me and Theriss.
“Crispinus?” I drawl, looking over a man who is bigger, more present, and better armored than the one from the arena.
“Crispin to those I call friend.” A smile changes his face from severe and war-like to amused mischief. “Crispinus Cocidius Vernostonus Tribunus.”
The god of war. Theriss bows her head. Do I kneel? Stand taller? What do I say? “The Mad God.”
“Furious,” he corrects. “You mortals have a hard time with nuance in the old languages.”
“You were the traveler. You healed my mother,” I whisper, still in awe. I glance at Theriss, who stares, equally wide-eyed.
“I was. Fleeing Mordenn and the Oryllix, fighting to break the curse, I was desperate. When your father had a choice, he chose generosity over selfishness. In return, I have tried at every possible chance to reward you here, to aid you, with Andraste’s help. Though,” he looks me over, “I’m not sure you needed it. You have the war fire inside you.”
He’s given me a lot of credit for being noble. “I have hate. I suffer starvation for vengeance.”
“Righteous fury is never misplaced. Ride it into battle like your best warhorse.”
“Why me?” Our ancient tales are filled with stories of god interfering, manipulating mortals. It seems a lot more exciting and romantic when its someone else.
“If you’re asking about the Oryllix, because your family possessed the shield bracer and the ring – artifacts Mordenn desired for his war collections. If you’re asking about me…” He shrugs. “Coincidence. I built many temples in many worlds, searching for someone who could break my curse, and the curse of the Artifacts. Some now exist in lands like Finna’s, where the people long ago moved on or faded to dust.”
“You couldn’t have come into the garden without the ring.” This revelation feels like my realization with the spider in Finna’s longhouse. My mind freezes around the information.
“Not without something of mine, a vessel. My mortal soul can’t pass through the astral gates, thanks to Mordenn’s interference. When Andraste told me you still possessed it, I managed my way into Lysperia.”
“You’re a god; Lotha, Torvik, Goren, could you have saved them?”
His face tightens with regret. “I’m not a god anywhere until Mordenn’s grip is broken. My strength is limited, and if I had interfered in the trial, you would have lost Theriss as an artifact. Perhaps lost them all.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” I murmur, starting to grasp everything that’s happened; that I have one trial left, that my vengeance is on the horizon. That I just saved the fucking god of war. “We won. We beat Maeve anyway.”
“Not in the way you think,” cautions Andraste, silent until now. “Maeve is the mother of the Oryllix. Mordenn was the only being powerful enough to survive her...appetite. She was never meant to bear offspring, and the combining of their darkness, wickedness, and deviance produced twin abominations. Mordenn lavished her with gifts, power, freedom from consequences. Along with their hideous children, she helped him build his collections, and he made her a queen. He’s going to take her destruction very badly.”
I’m heartbroken. “He can take it straight back to the hells. In a day he’ll have more to contend with than her being poisoned and imploded.”
“He sounds familiar.” Andraste smirks at Cocidius. Crispin? This will take some getting used to.
Crispin aims his smirk at me. “Don’t let her fool you. That’s how I caught her eye in the first place.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I noticed you because you brayed like a broken-legged donkey.” Andraste takes his hand, pulling him toward the terrace.
Theriss slips beside me and we sit in awed silence as they skirt the pond.
“I accused him of being a thief,” she breaths. “The god of war. And he said he was!”
“He didn’t lie. He stole her from Mordenn. And now, he’s stealing her again, is helping me steal all of you Artifacts.”
“Well…. I’m less nervous about meeting the others now.” Her laugh is thin.
“Yeah. They’ve had a little more time to adjust to the idea. Let’s go see if they’re doing better than we are.”
Judging by the way they crowd Crispinus, the women have made peace with who he is, and have gotten over any nerves. He’s perched on the foot of a couch, Andraste at his feet and the others arrayed before him seated on the tile.
He reminds me of my father for a moment. He never could write persuasively; he was a fourth son who got an education in a lot of things that weren’t ruling a kingdom. Until the end, my mother wrote all his official letters. But he was a storyteller. In the great hall after the evening meal, he would sometimes sit when the tables were taken down. Tagan and I knew what this meant; we’d run to the privy to relieve ourselves and then huddle with my mother and the court to hear his stories.
I pack away the melancholy when even Meridiana looks up at me with something like excitement. Their faces drive home what we’ve accomplished so far.
“Everyone, Theriss.”
She nods, serpents drawn back shyly into her hair. “There are so many of you…” Her eyes fall on Callista, on Kumiko fiddling with an ear, on the whole band of unique, powerful beings. “It’s an honor to be here.”
Finna ri
pples happily. “We’re honored to have you; another freed Artifact.”
“You’ve reached the last trial, Lir.” Freya’s words practically glow. “And found Cocidius.”
“We. We did it,” I amend. “And we’re going to do more. Tomorrow-”
Air cracks like static around us. It superheats; Crispin jumps to his feet, putting Andraste behind him. I draw my sword and move in front of the women.
Over the pond a black ribbon unfurls in the air, glowing with dark energy. It swells, forms a shapeless head and limb buds like a demon fetus. It grows, arms tapering into skeletal, twig-like fingers that rake the grass, leaving dead stripes in the lush green fronds. Legs taper into razor-sharp hooves. The face never grows in definition; it forms two bright hollow eyes and a mouth hole blacker than its body, gaping around the buzz of carrion flies. A stench laces the air, thick and putrid, filling my mouth with an oily sweet-sickness of decomposing flesh.
“Mordenn’s emissary,” whispers Crispin.
At my back, blades draw, and a staff thumps the tile. The women are ready.
It reaches one long arm toward me, circling like ink. I think its pointing, but then it turns a twigged hand palm up. A sphere, bright and perfectly round, hovers above its darkness.
Terror bands my chest, stealing breath. My heart beats in a too-big space, pounding in my head with a blacksmith’s cadence. “Esmanth.”
“Remember what I said, Lir,” whispers Andraste. “Death is the least certain thing; don’t let him influence you with it.”
He has. Panic and helplessness churn my guts. Stab, kill, destroy. I’d burn the world in this moment, if I could.
Andraste’s hand steadies me. “I know this feeling; don’t succumb.”
Release the artifacts, it demands like wind through a dead forest. Whether the words are spoken or just in my mind, I’m not sure.
I won’t lose more “I’m not giving Mordenn these women.”
No giving. Just release. When you’ve released all eight, Mordenn will return your sister.
Temple of Cocidius Page 39
