The Twilight Lord

by Bertrice Small

  The Twilight Lord was almost dizzy with his delight in her. Lara the Good, the gracious and generous faerie woman he had stolen, was fast becoming Lara the Wicked. In freeing her from her history and leaving her with just the barest of memories sufficient to survive, by filling her beautiful golden head with his own thoughts he was slowly, slowly, drawing her into his web of darkness.

  When he had first stolen her he had let her sleep beneath his spell for two months. It had been difficult but it was important that she believe the tale he had concocted regarding her past. The Munin lord had advised him rightly that the longer she lay unconscious without her memories the easier it would be to convince her of whatever he told her.

  For the past two months he had built up her trust in him as he led her further and further away from all she had ever known. Her appetite for lust was incredible. He had never known any female with such desires and such stamina. He could not get enough of her body, her kisses, her hot tight pleasure sheath that enclosed his eager rod over and over again. She was his. All his.

  But now the idyll he had woven was coming to an end. He had to impregnate her for the mating lust was ready to peak and at the very moment that it did he must get a son on her, or he would be forced to wait another five years. All his seed would produce in the meantime would be daughters. And once he had made a son, the mating lust would never again come to him. Alfrigg, however, was chiding him daily for his tardiness.

  “You must get your son on her, my lord, or we cannot proceed,” he said.

  “But once she is with child I cannot touch her until after the child is born,” the Twilight Lord complained.

  “Have you no other women to ease your lusty rod, my lord?” the chancellor asked dryly. “You have more important things to do.”

  The Twilight Lord laughed. “Rodding Lara is indescribable, Alfrigg. But then if I were mated to your Eitri I should seek other pursuits.”

  “In her youth Eitri was considered most handsome for a woman,” Alfrigg defended his mate. “But when you are over five hundred years old, the first blush of beauty fades, I fear.”

  “I know you have my best interests and those of my kingdom at heart, Alfrigg,” the Twilight Lord said. “I will impregnate Lara soon, I promise you.”

  “The darkness she carries within her is impressive, my lord. I have watched as you have drawn it forth from her,” Alfrigg replied admiringly.

  Kol nodded. “Aye, she will teach my son well,” he said. And then he felt the mating lust within him, burning him, demanding of him that he do his duty. Alfrigg was right. As much as he regretted it, it had to be tonight. And it would be a night Lara would remember for the rest of her life. There would be pain in this particular mating, but she was more than ready to accept that pain. Kol smiled and licked his lips in anticipation. “Good night, Alfrigg,” he said to his chancellor.

  The dwarf raised a questioning eyebrow to his master and Kol nodded. Alfrigg smiled. “Good night, my lord. I will pray to Krell for your success tonight.” And then the chancellor withdrew, bowing as he went.

  The Twilight Lord sat for several minutes watching as a great storm began to roll in from the surrounding mountains, over his castle. This was another sign that his son and heir would be conceived tonight. The lightning crackled and the thunder boomed, but there was no rain. None at all. Kol walked between the columns onto the portico. He leaned against the cold marble balustrade and looked out over his kingdom. Within the mountains there lived a race of fierce giants and another of wily dwarfs; the forests covering the mountains were inhabited by the Wolfyn, a race of creatures who could shift their shape from human to wolf. They all owed him their allegiance. And now he had the Munin secure within the Penumbras. Everything was proceeding as the Book of Rule foretold.

  He had captured the faerie woman ordained to be his mate. He had her memories, save those few she needed, safe in the great alabaster jar in his receiving chamber. After two months asleep and another two in his arms, she was his alone. She trusted him and tonight he would cajole her into admitting love for him. Then he would mate her, planting his seed deep in her womb. Lara would give him his son. And when she had he would restore her knowledge of the magic she possessed. She would rule by his side and use her magic to help him take first Hetar and then Terah. All the worlds would be his with her help. Kol smiled. How good it felt when everything was going well, he thought.

  He turned back into the chamber and called to a servant, who immediately hurried into the room and bowed slavishly.

  “How may I serve you, my lord?”

  “Go and tell my bath master that I shall come shortly. Then go to the lady Lara’s apartments and tell her servants that I shall join my mate tonight. I wish her prepared to receive me when I come.”

  The servant bowed again and then he said, “My lord, may I be so bold as to ask a question? I have not the right but we are so anxious for your happiness, my lord.”

  Kol nodded. His mood was good.

  “My lord…is tonight…” he hesitated, looking nervous.

  Kol smiled broadly. He knew what the man was asking. “Aye, it is,” he said. “Now go and do as I have bid you.”

  The servant scuttled out, then hurried to the bath master. “The lord is coming shortly for his ablutions. He has said that it will be tonight!”

  The bath master nodded and began shouting orders to the other slaves in his charge. “You are certain?” he demanded of the serving man.

  “He said it!” came the reply. Then the servant ran from the baths and hurried to Lara’s apartments. He knocked and was admitted by Macia. “Prepare your mistress,” the servant said. “The master will come. He has said tonight is the night your mistress will be seeded.”

  “Indeed,” Macia replied. “And how came you by this intimate knowledge?”

  “His mood was good, so I dared to ask,” the serving man replied. “He said aye.”

  “About time,” Macia said. “Well, go along now. You have delivered your message. The rest is up to them.” She shut the door on the serving man and called to Anka. When her companion came Macia told her what the servant had said.

  “She is just waking,” Anka replied.

  “Then let us feed her and then she must go to the baths before she is ready for him,” Macia said. She went into Lara’s beautiful bedchamber and bowed. “The lord has sent word that tonight is to be a special night for you, my lady,” she told Lara. “You must be fed and then bathed. He will come soon.”

  They brought her raw oysters and juicy capon, asparagus, and berries in sweet cream. Lara’s appetite was a good one; she ate it all. Then they led her to her bath where the bath mistress, already alerted as to the importance of this particular night, was relentless in seeing that her mistress was brought to her full beauty. Lara’s long golden hair was washed, perfumed and dried, then some of it was braided with bits of glittering silver thread. Finally a gossamer silk gown in deepest midnight-black was dropped over her head. The contrast of the dark silk against her golden hair and pale skin was meant to entice Kol all the more. Then they led her back to her chamber to await him.

  And when he came to her, a length of black silk wrapped around his loins, his pale skin glistening with a light coat of oil, her heart began to hammer with excitement. His eyes were a silver-gray tonight. His short ebony hair smelled faintly of sandalwood. Lara reached up and took his handsome face between her two small hands, smiling into his eyes. Then standing on her toes she kissed his mouth sweetly.

  “Do you love me?” he asked her low.

  “I love you,” she replied. “How could I not when you are so good to me?”

  “Will you give me my son, Lara?” he questioned. “Will you willingly accept our mating tonight? It cannot be done unless you wish it, my precious,” he told her.

  “Oh yes, my lord Kol,” she breathed with a sigh. “I will gladly bear you your son. I want to give you a son! I adore you, my dear lord! There is none other but you for me.”

&nb
sp; “There is pain in creation, my precious,” he warned her. “Pain in the seeding, and pain in the birth. But from that pain will come the next Twilight Lord. If you love me enough you will accept the suffering. Do you, my precious?” His gray eyes scanned her small heart-shaped face. “Do you love me enough, Lara?”

  “Aye, I do!” she declared. “But tell me one thing, my lord Kol. What is pain?”

  She did not remember! Krell! She could not recall pain. He had not considered that. But her loss of the memory of pain would make their mating even better. The shock of it when it first happened. The fear she would feel as it continued would breed up a cruel strong heir for him. Kol took Lara in his arms. “It is naught for you to fret about, my precious,” he told her gently and he caressed her hair with his big hands.

  She looked up at him with shining eyes. “Then let me be the mother of your son, my lord Kol. Let me give you this gift of my love!”

  He bent and kissed her mouth, tenderly at first and then with increasing passion as the final and fiercest mating lust wrapped itself about his body. He touched her gown and it dissolved into a silver mist. He yanked the length of silk from his loins. His rod was enormous tonight—and already hard as iron. It would remain that way for several hours until the final culmination of the mating. “On your knees before me,” he ordered her.

  Lara obeyed and wrapping her little hand about his rod she kissed its fiery tip. Then she began to lick it from stem to tip until finally she took him in her mouth and sucked upon him, her tongue swirling about the tip while his hands kneaded her head.

  “Take more,” he growled and then moaned as she took him farther. He could feel himself touching the back of her throat and then she opened her throat even wider, half swallowing him. Kol almost screamed as she did. He was not ready to release his juices. “Enough, witch!” he said in an odd hard voice that she had not before heard.

  Lara let her teeth gently graze his rod as she drew it from her mouth. She gave the tip a final lick before he pulled her up. “Something is different tonight,” she said softly.

  “The creation of an heir is a special moment,” he told her. “My rod is stronger than it will ever be again. And from the moment I plant my seed I will not touch you again until after the birth. This will be a great sacrifice for both of us, my precious. But we will have other interests to share, I promise you.”

  “What else will we share?” She wanted to know.

  “I will tell you on the morrow. Tonight is meant for our mating only.” And he began to kiss her again, his forked tongue caressing her tongue, exploring her mouth as he had a hundred times before. Then he led her to their bed and laying her back, he kissed her breasts and licked her flesh until she was filled with heated desire. His forked tongue played with her lust orb until she was whimpering for surcease. He pushed his tongue into her sheath, stroking the walls of it, preparing her for what was to come. He could feel the sharp little nodules on his rod beginning to surface from beneath the skin. His own lust was almost out of control now and he knew it was time. He slid his tongue from her sheath and licked the soft insides of her thighs. She lay quietly, her green eyes closed, as she enjoyed his tender homage. Then pulling himself up, Kol slipped between her thighs. Leaning forward he whispered in her ear, “Tell me you want me, my precious.”

  “Oh yes, please, my lord,” she told him, opening her green eyes. “Come into me and let us share the ultimate pleasure of creating a child.”

  He smiled down at her and then in a single thrust drove himself into her eager body. The look of shock and pain in her eyes only whetted his lust for her. Her scream of distress only caused him to begin a relentless rhythm as his rod moved slowly back and forth within her sheath, the sharp nodules stroking her cruelly.

  “It is different! Oh, Krell! It…it…it hurts!” Lara sobbed. The hard rod within her was covered with sharp hot spikes that had not been there before. They burned and rubbed against the tender walls of her sheath causing her pain—yet increasing her lust.

  “Wrap your legs about me, Lara!” he commanded her. “I must get deeper!” He stopped his motion briefly to force her reluctant limbs up and about his waist. Then he pushed deeper into her, reveling in her fright and agony.

  “My lord! My lord! You must stop, I beg you!” Lara sobbed.

  “Do not fight it, my precious,” he told her. “Let the pain sweep over you. From this pain will come the creation of my son. Trust me! Now scream for me, Lara!”

  Lara screamed fiercely and to her surprise the unbearable pain transformed into an incredible sweetness. “Oh, Krell!” she gasped. She could have sworn he was growing in length within her. As her fear subsided she realized that her own lust was being stoked to a fever pitch. He held her arms above her head now. The eyes looking down at her were black, a tiny flame of crimson burned in the center of each orb. As her own eyes closed, Lara knew he no longer saw her. His whole being was concentrated on the pleasure they were struggling to attain and the child that would come forth from it.

  He thrust and he thrust and he thrust. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. So near! They were so near! She could sense it. Outside of their bedchamber the lightning flashed and flashed again. The thunder roared over and over. And then Lara felt the pain returning, growing in momentum, the heat of it threatening to destroy her. But she would not be destroyed! She would not! At the very moment they reached nirvana together Lara screamed as the fierce heat of his boiling juices containing but a single seed exploded and the miniscule life force buried itself deep into her womb. As it dug itself down and into her she felt more pain. Then the pain vanished. Outside, the storm disappeared and suddenly all was completely silent.

  They lay together for a short time as their breathing quieted and the strength returned to their limbs. And then Kol arose from her bed. “It is done,” he said, and turning he walked slowly from her bedchamber.

  “I love you, my lord,” she called after him as the door closed.

  And Kol smiled at her words. Yes, she did love him. And faerie women did not give children to those they did not love. Even if they had no memory of it. But she loved him and the seed he had just planted within her was already growing. His son! Then he felt a small pang of regret. Her body was no longer his. It belonged to his son. And having tasted her passion, having shared pleasures with her, Kol knew that no other female would ever satisfy his lustful nature again. He would slake his desires on the pretty nubile creatures in his House of Women until after the child was born. And he would continue to please Lara by having each woman he coupled with strangled after he used her. Lara must be happy while she carried new life. She must be content. Whatever she desired he would see she obtained.

  And while she carried that new life he would continue to draw the darkness from her. Lara of Hetar, Domina of Terah, savior of the Outland Clan families. Lara the good faerie, mentored by the great Prince Kaliq himself. Good, however, was but one side of the coin, Kol thought with a smile. Everyone had darkness in them. And without her memory of the life she had led before he stole her away, that evil could be cultivated slowly like a beautiful flower. Only once before in her past life had she let the darkness touch her briefly but it meant that the cruelty within her could be fostered, cultured and refined. He would enjoy watching it grow even as the belly nurturing and sheltering his son grew. Reaching his own chamber Kol lay down and slept. His duty for now was done.

  4

  KALIQ OF THE SHADOWS looked out over the valley of horses where his herd and the herds of his brother princes stood grazing. “It is done,” he said, turning to his beautiful companion. “And neither the clan families or Magnus Hauk suspect.”

  Ilona, queen of the Forest Faeries, nodded. “What will happen now?” she asked. “I pray her memory does not return to her until it is finished.”

  “Her memories are safely stored and only the Munin can give them back to her. I will not see that done until the child is well along,” Kaliq said. “Then Lara will ha
ve her memories and will instinctively know what she must do. Kol is besotted with her, Ilona. It has worked out perfectly.” He smiled, well pleased. “And Lara will be safe for the interim.”

  “They still search for her,” Ilona remarked. “The clan families are heartbroken. They cannot be convinced it was not their fault. But Magnus believes that Hetar is responsible for Lara’s disappearance. He would go to war. Mortals can be so irrational.”

  Kaliq chuckled. “They can,” he agreed. “But does it not prove to you, my fair Ilona, that the Dominus of Terah loves his wife beyond all reason? He is really the perfect husband for her.”

  “I wish they had met after this. How will you manage to keep what is happening from him when we regain her? And how will Lara cope with what has happened to her? You know how damnably honest she is. A wicked mortal trait! She will want Magnus to know everything and I do not believe he can live with it. It will destroy them both.”

  “Ilona, Ilona, you surely know me better than that,” Kaliq murmured chidingly. “Trust me, my queen. I would never destroy Lara or any she loved.”

  Ilona sighed. “Inscrutable as always,” she replied. “I don’t suppose you will tell me what it is you plan to do, Kaliq.”

  He smiled again. “Nay, I will not. You complain that mortals are irrational, Ilona, but your faerie race can also act without logic or reason.”

  “Do not act so superior with me, Kaliq,” the queen of the Forest Faeries snapped.

  “But I am superior to you,” he said calmly. “And my kind are far older than your race, as well.”

  “If it had been my choice—” Ilona began but he stopped her mouth with his hand.

  “It was your choice when this task was offered to you, Ilona. You might have refused but you did not. It was your choice to take John Swiftsword as a lover and, between you, create Lara. You knew her destiny. There must always be balance, Ilona, and Lara brings that balance.”