by Nhys Glover
The stranger, who wasn’t a stranger, held out his wrist. The star was hard to see in the torchlight and against his dark skin, though his colour was paler on his inner arms and palms than elsewhere. I’m not sure I’d ever seen anyone quite as dark as this man. Yet I must have, if I knew him. He roiled with pent fury, which had come to full alert as soon as Zem had shifted into his magical warrior.
“My name is Prior Reed, and I think I might be one of The Five. This burned its way into my skin a few days ago. I was on my way here for the gathering of mages. When I arrived just now, people were full of it. The Godling is causing problems again, and five mages have been chosen by the Goddess to stop him. Five mages with a star brand on their wrists. I immediately knew I must be one.”
“Do I know you?” I asked, sidestepping the issue for a moment.
“You were at the meeting Trace called for the Abominations. The serving lad that seemed to be more than a serving lad. I don’t usually find myself interested in lads, but that night I was—distractingly so. I have seen you from a distance since then and happily discovered your true gender, proving my body had better sense than I did.”
I remembered him then. A dark man sitting right at the back of the room. I’d made a special point of reading him because he looked shifty. But his motives for being there were pure. He wanted out of the Godling’s secret army. He hated what he was expected to do.
“You didn’t join us though,” I said, sure I hadn’t seen him at the final battle when all the Abs with battle-useful skills had lined up on the rocky outcrop beside Airsha and her magical daughters.
“No. I took the opportunity to run. And I didn’t stop running until I heard the war was over and the Godling defeated. I came back then and gained a place as an Elemental Master. Nobody asked questions about my background. Clearly, I wasn’t a legitimate son of the Godling, given my colour.” He said the last with dry humour.
“Why didn’t you join us? Why run and hide like a coward?” Zem challenged.
The man bristled like a roused wadja, his nostrils flaring and his dark eyes flashing fire. “Because I had no desire to burn the flesh off any more bones. Not for the Godling or the rebels.”
He reined his fury in, and his face became set into hard lines that gave away none of the pain I suddenly felt coming off him in waves. I saw some of the people he’d killed for the Godling. Burned alive. I watched them running and screaming as their bodies burned away. No, he’d had enough. Just as I’d known he’d had enough that night more than two suns ago.
“Understandable. So why step forward now?” Zem asked, still cautious.
“Because I have now spent a couple of suns as a respected and useful member of the new order. I have the Goddess to thank for that. If she’s singled me out to be her champion against that bastard of a Godling, then I’m ready to do whatever is necessary to serve her.”
“Do you have any wives? A sweetheart?” I asked, going to the crux of the matter for me personally.
“Does it matter?” he challenged back indignantly. I couldn’t read if he did or didn’t. All I saw was a woman bursting into flames. What had that to do with my question?
“Something that might have been left out of the telling is that The Five will be me and the four members of my harem.”
His eyes opened wide in surprise. “A male harem made up of mages? That’s not allow–”
“The Goddess not only allows it but insists on it. I must forge a harem bond between myself and four Elemental Masters. That’ll be hard to do if you’re already spoken for.”
Prior’s mind shut down tight. I had no idea what was going on for him. Not even his emotions were clear to me. How were people doing this? People who didn’t know I could read them, like Landor. And now this man.
“Ah, then we have a problem. I am sorry to have bothered you. Good luck on your mission.”
Prior turned on his heel and began striding away.
We stared at his fast-disappearing back in shocked silence for a few moments.
“He must love his wife or wives very much. I can’t believe the Goddess would ask this of a committed man,” I said to Zem, troubled and a little disappointed.
“He didn’t say he had anyone he loved in his life. That might not be it.”
“Oh, so it could just be that the very idea of wedding me was so abhorrent he had to turn tail and run?” I snapped, wondering if that was exactly what had happened. Did I look so terrible with my hair half falling out of its fancy do? I didn’t think so when I saw myself in the mirror. But then I had been happy in Rama’s arms. Happiness could transform someone, I’d seen that often enough.
“Flea, everything isn’t always about you. Can you add ego-centric to your list of faults, please?”
“Certainly. Anymore? Bad kisser? Lousy lay? May as well get them all out there while you have the chance,” I griped.
Zem spun me into his arms and kissed me so hard and so thoroughly that I decided I could safely scratch bad kisser and possibly lousy lay off my list. He wouldn’t want me as bad as he so obviously did if they were true. Love only went so far.
When we came up for air, I discovered I was leaning against the wall Zem had backed me into in his frenzy. We were both panting with need, desperate for more. But unless we were going to do this here in the corridor, like some serving wench captured by a drunken lud, we needed to get to our bed. Now!
I broke free of him and began running down the hall. Zem was close on my heels. By the time we entered Airsha’s personal quarters, I was panting and out of breath for a different reason.
The childling’s nurse was sitting sewing on cushions in the communal area. She looked startled and a little alarmed by our sudden appearance. We must have looked a sight!
“Sorry, sorry for scaring you. We’re just escaping the ball. Goodnight to you,” I said between harsh gasps, and took off down the smaller internal corridor that led to our room.
Moments later, Zem had the door shut softly behind him, while I was already busy feverishly undoing the lacings of my dress. I felt Zem come up behind me and start feeling for the pins in my hair. Both of us seemed unnaturally clumsy in our haste. I giggled and grabbed his hands.
“Can we do all this late? Just throw up my skirts and have done with it. Like you wanted to do in the ball room,” I said breathlessly, for a completely different reason from moments before.
“You sure? I... I should be gentle and respect–”
“Zem, you talk far too much lately. You know that?”
I twisted in his arms and flopped backwards onto the bed, pulling up my skirts as I went. Where this wanton behaviour was coming from, I had no idea. It wasn’t from too much drink, I knew that much. But suddenly I wanted Zem inside me with a passion unlike anything I’d known before.
Zem’s gaze took me in. I still wore fine draws held up by a drawstring over my privates, but unless Zem was completely ham-fisted he should be able to make short work of them.
But instead of removing them for me, his hands had begun fumbling at the front of his breeches.
For a split second, I saw another man fumbling at his breeches. But that one had been leering at me. This one was staring at me as if I was the most glorious sight he’d ever seen. No comparison. No comparison at all!
There was no slow burn, no foreplay, as it’s called by those with experience to give such things a label. Zem lowered himself onto me—after tearing off the drawers because the bow tied into the drawstring had proved too much for him— and his cock was pressing into me, slow inch by slow inch, stretching me as he went.
I’d thought that, having done this a few days ago, I’d be still stretched enough to accommodate him. But my channel had clearly returned to its normal size, because Zem was having to stretch me to fit him. I was slick with desire though, and so his progress was not painful.
By the time he’d sheathed himself fully, he was sweating. Huffing out a deep sigh, he pressed his forehead against mine. “You’re so t
ight it’s almost painful. Maybe I should have prepared you first.”
“Is it bad?” I asked, concerned.
He shook his head. “Gods, no. It feels amazing. But I’m not used to someone as inexperienced as you. I don’t want to hurt you. And I want it to be good.”
I laughed then, enjoying the fullness of having him deep inside me. If we did nothing else, this would be enough. I was as close to Zem as it was possible to be. We were one. And I loved him so much, in that moment, that it physically hurt.
“It’s already good, you idiot. This is not what I paid for, you know. You were supposed to throw me down and have your way with me. Instead, you’re jabbering on about being good.”
Zem groaned then, in amusement and frustration. He began to move, kissing my lips every time he pushed into me, only to break away again as he withdrew. Teasing me.
Two could play at that game. When next he swooped in for a kiss, I grabbed his hair and held him in place, thrusting my tongue into his mouth, tasting the wine he’d drunk. Gods, it felt incredible doing that while his cock did the same to my channel. I started timing the thrusts of my tongue with the thrust of his cock and Zem groaned, his desire growing.
Then I was too caught up in the delicious pleasure coursing through me, and I broke from the kiss and let out a moan of my own, flinging my arms out and throwing my head from side to side, wanting more and knowing I would get it.
Zem increased his tempo, thrusting into me with a frenzy that had been missing from the last times we did this. It was like he had become a madman, caught up in this insane repetitive action. Or like a wild beastling rutting his mate. I whimpered, I cried out, I reached under his tunic and found his hot, damp flesh and raked it with my nails.
And that was all it took for both of us. Zem cried out my name and climaxed hard, while I splintered into a million tiny pieces around him and felt my consciousness fading away.
When it returned, Zem’s dead weight was pressed into me, and he was so still I wondered if he’d fallen asleep. Or died. Could a man die of lovemaking?
When I reached up to brush his hair from his face so I could see if he still lived, he groaned and lifted off me, though he stayed inside me.
“That wasn’t the way I wanted it to go,” he muttered, annoyed with himself.
“You didn’t want me to have a toe-curling release? That’s very poor of you.”
“That’s not what I meant. I didn’t want it to be ordinary. Men throw up women’s skirts and take them this way all the time, with no thought to their pleasure, only their own. I didn’t want to be one of them.”
“Zem. It’s was me who threw up my skirts and took you with no thought to your pleasure, only my own. Do you hear me complaining?”
“But—”
“Gods’ balls, I’ll beat you to a bloody pulp if you don’t stop trying to make everything into something perfect. This was us, being us. The new us, but still the old us as well. We aren’t a love story told by balladeers—all flowers and soft whispers of undying love—we’re teeth-jarring bloody kisses on a battle field. We’re skirts thrown up and bodies joined in a fast and frenetic pumping because we can’t wait. We’re just us, Zem. And gods, that’s wonderful!”
And then I cried. Again.
And Zem held me. Again.
What would I do without this man?
When I recovered this time Zem kissed my brow and settled me in at his side more comfortably. “Is this going to be a regular part of our lovemaking?”
I shrugged and breathed him in. “Not sure. But at least this time they weren’t tears of sadness for my old me. These were happy tears, sort of. I guess the intensity gets too much and I have to find a way to blow it off. Tears do that for me.”
“So... not because I did something wrong? Because I can do better next time if you give me a chance.”
“Zem, stop this. I need you to be your warrior-self in bed, not the self-conscious lad. It’s too exhausting trying to make you feel better when I just want to bathe in the glow.”
“That’s what I’m doing, isn’t it? Rama said as much to me earlier in the evening. I make you work too hard to appease me. Sorry. But you know the way my brain works. Got to get everything just right to keep my well-ordered world from falling into chaos. And perfect isn’t us, I get that, but I can’t stop trying to make it that way. Although I’ll try to keep it to myself from now on. You don’t have to work to make me feel okay, Flea. I don’t want you doing that.”
I kissed his cheek and sighed. “Loving me was never going to be easy. And loving you is no piece of cake, either. But it works. Just remember that, when you’re off on one of your perfectionist jags. We work.”
We fell asleep then, fully clothed in our finery. It had been a hard few days. And it was going to get even harder in the days to come. But as long as I could fall asleep in Zem’s arms every night I’d be content.
Chapter Fourteen
Next morning we rose, cleaned up, changed, and went out into the living area where food was always set up ready to be eaten whenever it was required. I’d found this odd when I’d first stayed at the royal apartments—what had been the royal apartments back in the day. Airsha told me it was the way it had always been in the harem. Food there for the eating any time, night or day. It seemed a waste to me, as much of it would go uneaten and rot away in the heat.
Of course, that would have been the case if the Airluds hadn’t been among the residents. They were like locusts. If there was food, they devoured it. Zem was almost as bad. I had to wonder if Landor and Prior would be equally voracious.
That thought sent me into jealous imaginings. Where had Landor spent the night? Had he enjoyed pleasure with one of the women who’d been fawning over him last night? Would he wish one of them was the woman he was supposed to bond with? It disgusted me that I should feel this way when I’d spent my night in Zem’s arms. I was greedy as well as self-centred. I’d tell Zem I’d added that trait to my list, except that would mean telling him how I discovered this newest less-than-favourable trait. He didn’t need to know I was feeling possessive over Landor already.
Gods, I had to get over protecting his fragile ego! It inhibited my ability to be me. And I knew I’d have to be comfortably me if I was to forge this gods’ damned bond. How could I give my whole heart unconditionally to four men if I didn’t feel comfortable enough in my own skin to do so? If I was worrying about Zem’s insecurities all the time. It wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t have to be placed in this position. And neither should I. We should be allowed to love where we chose.
But was it possible to walk away as Prior had done last night? Would his decision mean the mark would magically disappear, just as it had appeared? Would someone else get it in his place? The Goddess couldn’t make any of us love. Could she?
“You’re frowning,” Zem observed, piling his plate high with delicacies only to be found here in the centre of our world.
“Just thinking about Prior. He walked away last night. I’m wondering if he’ll lose his mark and someone else will get it. And if that’s so, maybe we could do the same. I don’t want to do this, Zem. I know I should be proud to have been chosen, but I’m not. I was happy as a scout. I want that life again.”
He sighed. “I think that’s how Airsha felt. She never wanted to be the Goddess Incarnate. She wanted to tame airlings and live quietly with her men.”
“But Airsha is Airsha. She’s caring and selfless and—”
“Stubborn and arrogant and impatient,” Airsha said, coming into the room looking fresh and cheery. Not an easy feat after the late night she’d had. I’d vaguely heard them all come in many turns after we’d taken to our bed.
Zem laughed. “I won’t agree or disagree. You might strike me down with lightning.”
Airsha laughed too. “Why is my name being taken in vain?”
“We met the third mage last night. Or he met us. When he heard about this task he came looking for us. He has the mark. But when I told him
he’d have to be part of my harem he politely declined. So I’m wondering if we could decline too. I don’t want to do this, Airsha. Not the taking on a monster part, though I am not exactly jumping at that part either, but the harem part. Zem is already feeling... unhappy with it. And so am I. We just want to go back to the way things were.”
“This other mage turned you down? That surprises me. There wouldn’t be many men who’d do that. You’re a beautiful woman.”
“He may already have wives or a woman he loves. I asked him that, but he didn’t answer. But if that’s the case then I can’t in good conscience force him to be unfaithful to her. It’s not like we can bring her into this bond. The Goddess was very clear on that. The Five must be The Five.”
“Don’t give up on him quite yet. Once he thinks it through he might come around. It was probably just a shock. And don’t you give up yet, either. I know what you’re going through. I know too well. But trying to stay the same is like holding back the sea. Or trying to keep leaves on trees when the seasons change. It cannot be done. Embrace your fate, Flea. It will be for the best in the long run.”
She smiled, turning to look at the man straggling into the room after her, carrying young Trace, who was smiling brightly and pulling at Darkin’s long black mane of hair.
She’d never wanted to be the Chosen One. Yet here she was, playing her part, and having more love in her life than she probably ever expected to have. She’d found her place. Her fit.
Darkin dropped a tender kiss on her cheek, as if to place an exclamation mark at the end of that thought for me. Her fit! Would I too find my fit?
“Do I know this newest mage?” Airsha asked, changing the subject back to Prior.
“No, I don’t think so. I met him once at the Abomination’s meeting with Trace. But he didn’t join the Abs. He didn’t want to use his fire to kill anymore. It sounds like that was what the Godling had him using it for.”
“But he’s one of the Airshan mages now, though?”
“I think so. He came in for the gathering.”
