The Dark God's Bride

by Dahlia Lu

  “And what do you learn at this institution?”

  “I want to earn a degree in chemistry. The building blocks that make up this world fascinate me.”

  “Are you an apprentice to an alchemist?”

  She shook her head. “I think magic and chemistry are two faces of the same thing. One is the principles, while the other is the practice.” When she reached for the decorative candle on the side of the table and set it in front of her. She concentrated at the wick, channeling, and after a minute, the candle flickered and immediately died out. “It enabled me, a mortal, to do that. It still needs some work but…you get the point.”

  He had an indifference expression on his face, as if he couldn’t decide to be impressed or laugh at the pitiful attempt.

  “Well, fire is a tricky chemical reaction.” She shrugged off the embarrassment. “I can do other things.”

  The waiter returned to their table. “Here is your complimentary soup and salad.” The waiter said as he set down the plate with the hot soup on it. He unconsciously slanted the salad bowl forward and a tomato grape slipped into her cleavage, made possible by the new dress she had bought only hours ago.

  “I am so sorry, Signorina!” the waiter apologized, after he set the salad bowl down.

  “No biggie.” Amara waved a hand to gesture the insignificance and then dug into her cleavage. She immediately halted when she saw the boy’s face had reddened. “Oh dear, it’s in really deep,” she said, purposely sounding distressed. This is the perfect opportunity for the oldest trick in the book of seduction. He was beyond ancient, so this might be something new to him. She continued her search, found it, but still pretended that she hadn’t. She turned to Noctis. “This is quite embarrassing.”

  His eyes were fixed on her chest.

  The bait has been cast.

  “There it is…” She slowly pulled out the tomato grape and then bit into it. She heard the boy gulp. The juice dripped down from the corner of her lips. He was still watching. She wiped it upward and sucked on the tip on her finger. His lips slightly parted.

  A nibble on the line!

  Then he said, “Do you not have table manners?”

  The line snapped.

  She felt slightly crushed. “I just didn’t want to be wasteful.”

  The waiter boy left the table and then quickly returned with her entrée. Her hunger made her devour the dish, but it was pretty much tasteless at this point. She’d be eating tofu and wouldn’t know the difference. She glanced at him every now and then, and followed it with a sigh.

  Noctis had been a hair away from freezing the mortal into a time-frozen tuna. Something inside of him held him back and wanted her to remain animated. He could ask himself why until the sun dawned in the opposite direction. She was a talkative and irritating female who challenged him at every angle. Even in her supposed obedience and submissive state, her large grey-blue eyes were defiance at every glance.

  Flirting with another male in front of me!

  He shook the thought away from his head.

  Sanity fleeting…

  She was lying next to him, breathing softly against his arm. She was completely exhausted from her shopping trip. When they arrived home, she headed straight for the bed and had slept since then. She was mortal and as fragile as glass. He stared at her luscious lips and then trailed down to the transparent stain on her dress. He nearly shuddered when he remembered how it got there.

  He shook his head again. Perhaps it had been too long since he had had the company of another. He didn’t want to admit that he liked to hear her talk or that he found comfort in her soft breathing in the dark of the night, because it could have been anything, as long as it was not the silence. He hated silence. He’d had enough of it.

  He knew other immortals liked to seek out companions to share their eternity with. Should he also follow their examples and find one of his own?

  His body tensed as she stirred and draped an arm over his abdomen. Her soft cheek rubbed against his arm. She let out a soft moan, and then she stilled again. He became relaxed only when she returned the rhythm to the night.

  He had the sudden urge to sleep, something he hadn’t done in ages. He closed his eyes, and for the first time in a very long time, he allowed his mind to rest.

  Chapter Eight

  “As I was saying,” Amara drawled.

  “You always have something to say,” Noctis said in a wary tone.

  She opened her mouth to protest the accusation, failed to find the words to defend herself, and then closed it again. She scratched the back of her head while reflecting on it. Was she really that talkative? Coming from him, it was only one of many complaints.

  “Well?” he urged impatiently.

  “Well what?”

  “What were you going to say?”

  “I forgot now,” she lied, looking down at her nails, as she stroked the large leaf hanging next to her seat. They were long and in desperate need of a manicure. They grow out far too quickly for her liking.

  “Why did you ask me to come to the sunroom?” he asked, looking around the dome shaped room made entirely of glass and steel.

  “To see if the sun could burn you to ashes?”

  He scowled.

  She ceased petting the soft foliage in front of her. “I wanted to show you a new spell I’ve just learned.”

  “Since I am already here,” he gestured for her to do her thing.

  She shook her head in refusal. “Now I don’t feel like it anymore.”

  “Are you…are you throwing a tantrum at me, mortal?”

  She shrugged as she circled the sunroom. “I don’t know what you mean. Did you hear me yell? No.”

  His piercing blue eyes followed her movement. “Is there anything else that requires my presence?”

  “No,” she replied casually.

  “Then I am leaving.”

  “You are dismissed,” she said softly and then she gasped when he suddenly shifted in front of her.

  He grasped her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. “Say that a little louder.”

  Crap!

  “I said I changed my mind and I want to show it to you,” she replied hastily, “my lord and master?”

  He released her.

  She quickly turned around to a pot of yellow budding roses.

  “Florescat!” she commanded. Nothing... Need more concentration. “Florescat!”

  The buds shyly opened up one after the other, unfurling and expanding, until they were in full bloom.

  “I did it!” She cried triumphantly and then turned around. She proudly looked up at him. “I didn’t think I could do it twice in a row but… I did!” She turned around again to look at the roses. The smile on her face died out when the roses and the plant began to wilt. “Oh no…don’t laugh at me, I can’t…”

  He wasn’t laughing.

  “Why aren’t you laughing?” She asked. “The demons always laugh at me at a failed attempt.”

  “You’re a mortal,” he said, as if that explained everything. He sheltered the pot in his large hands and created a crystal clear orb around it to reverse the process. It went from wilt, to bloom, back to buds.

  She didn’t have time to admire the ability. She was too aware that his arms were trapping her between him and the flower pot. Her heart was drumming abnormally loud inside her chest and she wondered if he could hear it too.

  “Some things should not be rushed,” he said, sounding normal for once. “You commanded the plant to make the flowers bloom before they were ready. It mustered all of its energy for the task and it didn’t have enough to survive.”

  “Is this part of the seduction option?” she asked, turning around and beaming a smile at him.

  “No,” he replied flatly.

  “Why is it a no? Is it because you think y
ou would actually fall for me?” She winked at him.

  His blue eyes stared down at her. “I have decided to void that one.”

  “Why? Isn’t that the most obvious one? I mean, seducing your enemy’s woman for revenge is like… the classic of the classics.”

  “I came to the realization that a woman’s betrayal may be damaging to a man and his pride, but not extensive enough to last an eternity and eternity is what I am aiming for. Besides, who would want to mourn an unfaithful female?”

  She glowered at him. “Oh my god…”

  He grinned. “Is something a matter?”

  “I mean, I didn’t understand that last option before, but after you told me the story about being helpless to save the ones you loved… you want him to suffer the same fate! You are positively evil,” she concluded. “I have never met a more bitter and wicked man.”

  “I am not bitter,” he said, though he did not deny the rest.

  His arms returned to his sides, briefly brushing by her left cheek. He turned and headed toward the door. His expression was still, making her wonder if he had been hurt by her words. Another look at him, she shook her head. Not possible. Not even remotely possible.

  Still, she asked, “Was I too insensitive?”

  “What nonsense are you mumbling about now?” He asked, stopping at the threshold of the door.

  “You lost your family and…” She heaved a difficult breath. “Your attitude makes it so hard for me to see things from your point of view.”

  “Sensitivity is the last thing you should be worried about when you are with me,” he assured her. “Even if I were to accept this ‘sympathy’ of yours, I would not know why I received it.”

  “You told me…”

  “I know what I told you. My mortal life was as obscure as a bad dream I once had. I cannot recall the faces of the people I’ve met in that life, nor their names.”

  “You do not remember anything at all?”

  “Only the pivotal events in that life, but then again for what purpose do I need those memories? I cannot think of one.”

  Neither could she.

  But then again, they were actually holding a conversation. He answered the questions casually instead of looking like he wanted to murder her where she stands. It was an improvement, definitely an improvement. She should talk about something less grim than the past of an erratic god. But before she could open her mouth, he was already gone.

  So much for holding a conversation...

  The options came to her again. Should she stay put like a good little captive or should she run? If she decided to run, then where could she go that he could not reach? The answer was nowhere. If she runs now then she will have to run until the day she dies. For all she knows, he could even travel to the realm of the dead and pull her back. Running would be such a waste of time and energy.

  At least in this mansion, she was provided with food, shelter and servants to wait on her. Compared to living at home, cleaning up after her roommate, she’d prefer to stay here. Not a condom wrapper in sight. As long as he doesn’t take her back to that wretched dungeon, she’d be a good little captive.

  Thinking about that bloody dungeon made her feel sick to her stomach. Noctis was pure evil, there was no mistaking that. However, for the meantime, he was no threat to her. He’d made it clear to her that he would kill her in front of Lucifer, but the flaw with his plan was that Lucifer had slept for thousands of years and he wasn’t due for another three thousand years or so. By that time, she would probably be a pile of dirt. What probably? She will be a pile of dirt.

  This almost feels like deceiving him.

  Wait until he realizes I won’t be able to live nearly as long as he’d speculated.

  She smiled at that.

  From the corner of her eyes, Amara spied someone moving in the distance. She turned her attention out of the sunroom, past the maze garden, and fixed her eyes on a white stone structure. There was a man wearing all black with green lining entering the front door. Even from this distance, she could tell that he was no gardener.

  Amara has always been a curious cat. She’d always found herself running toward the excitement and very often that meant defying survival instincts and going in the opposite direction of the fleeing crowd. The demons screwed her mind up good. Growing up surrounded by those fearless creatures made her believe that she was one too. It made her forget that they were powerful and immortal, while she was a weak mortal who could die easily.

  But then again, you only get to live once.

  She left the building and went around the maze garden. She had no confidence that she could make it out to the other side before dark, and stalk to the white stone building. It was a lot bigger than what she had in mind. At a close look, the carvings on each alabaster pillar were staggeringly detailed. The massive double door was probably thirty feet in height. Someone spared no expense in having this place constructed, but for what reason?

  The door wasn’t fully closed, so she squeezed sideways to get through. She softly gasped when she saw a well-polished marble floor and giant pillars, like the one in front, running down the length of the hall. Between each column were ten feet tall marble statues of Roman gods and goddesses.

  “What is this place?” Amara whispered to herself.

  She walked down the hall and stopped in front of a slanted altar painted gold and encrusted with jewels at the very end. She curiously walked up the short steps one at a time. She examined the altar, but it wasn’t an altar at all. She groaned in disgust when she saw what look like a human skull through the tiny opening. It was a coffin… a sarcophagus.

  She turned around immediately when she realized this place was a mausoleum. She tripped on the steps and fell forward. She frantically grabbed a statue’s hand for balance. The arm slightly moved, but it saved her from the fall. The ground beneath her shook and the marble floor retracted toward the altar, like a pool cover, revealing a set of stairs leading to the lower level.

  She stood still, debating if she should spend the rest of the day in the boring sunroom or exploring a secret underground crypt, tomb, catacomb or whatever this place was.

  What was that man doing in here anyway? Treasure hunting on private property?

  Her body made the decision for her. Before she knew it, she was already at the bottom of the stairs.

  The floor above began to reseal the entrance, closing out the sunlight. Amara stared at it until it the stairs lead up to the ceiling. There were medieval looking torches along the hallway and they were lit, most probably by that stranger. She shrugged and then moved down the long, narrow path slanting downward.

  Noctis had visited the immortal’s nightclub on a regular basis for the past four months. He found the place lively and festive from five in the afternoon to five in the morning. When the sun goes down, everyone was in the mood for mischief. Fights broke out so easily and so often that he couldn’t stay away. He sensed a powerful spell protecting the area so the place would stay intact, but there was something about watching immortals shredding each other to pieces that distracted him from the thought of revenge. That said a lot.

  He leaned back against the sofa with a margarita in hand, as he watched the two Lycans wrestling each other in the arena ring. Thursday night was wrestling night and everyone was placing bets on Lysander the Wicked, King of the Lycans. The Lycan King picked up his opponent by his neck and thigh after a very short match and threw him across the nightclub. The immortals quickly moved out of the way of the opponent’s collision course for the wall.

  The victorious Lycan roared triumphantly as the crowd cheered him on. “Anyone else…?” The Lycan challenged the crowd. After five wins in a row, the immortals were hesitant.

  A sweet voice replied, “I will take you on.”

  The crowd gasped and turned toward the direction of a dainty female with brilliant platinum
hair and pale green eyes. She grinned naughtily, “Go easy on little me.”

  The demon standing beside her pulled her back. He pleaded to her with genuine concern, “Please do not do this, my princess.”

  She shook him off.

  The Lycan threw his head back and laughed heartily. “If it is you, Nala, I concede defeat.”

  “Already…?”

  “Hurting a little thing like you? I have nothing to gain.”

  She giggled. “What a gentlemen you are.”

  “You were serious about going up against me?”

  She nodded.

  “It will hurt,” he warned her. “Back out now.”

  She gracefully entered the arena ring and circled him. “Let’s get started shall we?”

  “I …eh…” The Lycan King looked down at her and scratched the back of his head. He was a foot and a half taller than the female. “I think the only wrestling match you should get involved in is one with pudding or Jell-O.”

  “Ha,” she humorlessly laughed and in a blur, the Lycan King was already on the ground. It was her turn looking down at him. “I think I will do fine without Jell-O.”

  The Lycan King stared back at her in absolute shock. Then a dark look shadowed his face. He got up, licked his canine fangs with his tongue and gave a menacing grin. “Yes, let us begin.”

  He charged at her in a blur and she shifted from his path. They chased each other until the crowd got a headache just from watching. At last, the Lycan King caught the female and slammed her onto the ground. The demons present at the nightclub were on edge, ready to intervene at any moment. She rolled over to escape his devastating punch and then kicked him out of the arena circle. The strength of his hind legs stopped the momentum, dragging fiction sparks on the ground. He charged at her again and she leaped up over his shoulders. She jumped on his back, using his momentum to send him straight for the ground. He swung around, caught her by the ankle and slammed her onto the ground like a rag doll. She looked too dazed to break free. The crowd cringed when they heard the sound of breaking bones.