Surviving Synn

by L Shannon

  Tarvyn squeezed his hand. “It isn’t something that must be decided now. Come, let’s rest for a while. Then I wish to show you my home.”

  Ralyn caught Tarvyn by the shoulder. “When Pahele finds out he’s here, you will be out of time.”

  “It’s not when he finds out,” Tarvyn said. “I’m sure he already knows. Our time will be up when he gets time to punish me.”

  “So true. Good luck, brother.” Ralyn faded away as easily as he’d arrived.

  “Come on, Bailey. We can’t stay in the throne room.” His hand, where they had touched so naturally all this time, tightened as Tarvyn led him into a wide hallway made of the same marble.

  “Are we really in hell?” Even the idea that they had somehow traveled to the place most people only had nightmares about left him feeling off balance. How could such a thing happen? What would it mean?

  “Yes, and I really am a demon, but it’s not as people tend to think of them.”

  “That is obvious, since I have always been taught to fear demons, and you have never raised a hand against me. Indeed, when my men would have killed me, you saved my life.”

  Chapter Six

  Tarvyn couldn’t believe the words that poured from Bailey. They were a precious gift. He paused outside the throne room and blinked to clear the moisture from his eyes.

  He turned slowly to face his lover. “Do you mean that? I thought you would be afraid of me.”

  Bailey cupped his jaw with a gentle hand. “How could I be afraid of you? It was you who showed me what it meant to be accepted.” Their lips came together in a fiery kiss that left them both panting.

  “Come on. Let me show you my chamber first.” He drew Bailey along behind him, hurrying toward the Synn wing of their underground world. Three hallways and two sets of stairs later and they stood in front of the room he shared with Ralyn. He knew his brother would find another place to sleep tonight. He and Bailey would have the chamber to themselves for as long as they wished. He pushed open the door and urged Bailey to enter first.

  “This is your room?” Bailey asked.

  He nodded. How would Bailey see this simple room? Would he be appalled by the stark lines and humble stone walls? Even with the tapestries and decorative silks he used to brighten the room, it was still barren compared to the glamour of the throne room and the royal wing.

  “I thought it would be smaller, but the room is spacious, and I like the bed.”

  The bed was a large, raised pallet covered in plush furs. Unlike many of the other demons, he had built his bed with sturdy corner posts, which he’d wrapped in silk to soften the harsh look.

  Suddenly Bailey pulled him into his arms. “I don’t know what we have or what will come, but I do know that I love how you feel and how I feel when I’m with you.” Before Tarvyn could respond, his lips were crushed under Bailey’s passionate kiss.

  Heat sizzled through him, leaving him hard and aching and pinned against Bailey’s broad chest. Damn the man could kiss…

  When they broke apart, Bailey spun him within his embrace so that his back was pressed firmly against Bailey’s front. The man was as hard as he was. Oh, man. It was all he could do not to grind himself into Bailey’s aroused body. Instead, he stayed passive under the dominant control of his lover.

  “Tell me, Tarvyn,” Bailey whispered into his ear, while stroking one hand down Tarvyn’s front, stopping just above his belt. “You are much stronger than you look, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, yeah…much,” he answered, but his body took up most of his thought. It focused his attention to every place they touched and to every place that wanted to be touched.

  “You could take control if you wanted. You could take anything you wanted to take.” That hand pressed over his abdomen tightened, caressing him through the thin tunic.

  “Yes,” he hissed as Bailey’s hand slipped between the parting cloth and connected with bare skin.

  “How strong are you? I need to know.” The words blew over his ear in a low, seductive whisper.

  He panted, trying to regain enough control to answer when all he wanted was for Bailey to shut up and fuck him. “I could lift your horse…with one hand.”

  “I thought so.” Bailey released him and stepped back as if the touch of skin burned.

  Frustration boiled through him. His body ached with need, needs that Bailey didn’t seem to have now, or worse, seemed to not want to feel. “Why does it matter? I’m not human, but I can love you like one. I can feel human enough when you touch me, when you kiss me. I can be what you need!”

  Bailey met his desperate plea with an emotionless answer. “That isn’t the point.”

  “Then what is? Because right now, all I see is that we both wanted to fuck and now you don’t want me. You find out that I’m not human like you, and suddenly I’m not good enough.” He couldn’t help it; he was so angry that tears sprang to his eyes at the betrayal. He turned away and grabbed up one of his silk scarves to wipe away his tears.

  Hands pulled the scarf away. “No crying,” Bailey said as he pushed Tarvyn back to sit on the bed then knelt before him. “I just need to know some things first.”

  He struggled for control, swallowing back his anger and fear. “What do you want to know? I won’t lie to you.”

  Bailey used the scarf to wipe away the last tear. “You said you were twenty—”

  “Almost twenty, and I am.” he answered while a threat of hope left him wanting to reach for Bailey with both hands.

  Bailey’s lips pulled down in a frown. “You said you wouldn’t lie.”

  “I didn’t lie. I am almost twenty centuries old,” he confessed while praying to the Creator that Bailey would be able to see past the age and the stretched truth.

  Bailey stared at him blankly. “I don’t even know how to compare that age to my way of thinking.”

  “I am not human.” He’d never thought of human as something he would want to be, but the look in Bailey’s expression made him yearn to be whatever his lover needed.

  “How can you look so…human?” Bailey’s hand trembled where he held Tarvyn’s. “Why don’t you look like your brother?”

  “I have to be able to walk among your people. When I am sent to your world, I am able to take this form so I will be accepted by humans.”

  “So, this isn’t your true body. You must look like the one who met us earlier. Are you really his brother?”

  “Yes. I look more like Ralyn when we are here in Niflheim, but what you see, now, is also me.”

  “I want to see how you look. Will you show me?” Bailey’s voice was a quiet entreaty.

  It was now or never. He wanted to share who he was with Bailey, but he didn’t want to scare him away. His demonic form wasn’t nearly as terrifying as many of the Synn demons and nowhere near as horrendous as the higher demonic levels.

  But if Bailey couldn’t handle it, they should know before even considering the Hall of Souls. For if Bailey did attempt the quest and entered the Hall with any doubts, he was sure to be lost there forever.

  “I will show you,” he whispered. He stood, moving away from Bailey and blocking the doorway. If Bailey panicked, he wasn’t about to let him run out into the realm where he could be hurt or killed by so many.

  Once he’d given them a little space, he let his body change back to how it wanted to be here. His skin marbled to the pale, streaking blue. His wings burst from his back and hung behind him like a cape marbled the same as his skin. And out from under those wings hung his long, whip-like tail.

  His fingers ached, but he kept his nails short and more human even as the shape changed slightly to look more animalistic. His hair and facial features would have changed little but, inside his mouth, he now had small cat-like fangs, and his eyes would now shine with a metallic blue sheen with larger pupils to handle the darkness so typical of his homeland.

  All through the change, he watched Bailey’s face. He watched for the fear or disgust, which he dreaded would end any ch
ance they might have of building a life together.

  But what he saw was wonder. Bailey looked at him with such a powerful awe that he felt humbled. Instead of panic or fear, Bailey’s eyes were filled with anticipation. Bailey stood and moved ever so slowly toward him, hesitation filling every step, but the kind of hesitation that makes the final touch so much the sweeter.

  Bailey reached out and brushed his fingers feather light over his skin. He traced a line up and over his shoulder, down his neck and up to cup his face. His thumb brushed over Tarvyn’s lower lip. Bailey pulled back, but then stroked back through his hair as he stepped behind him.

  As Bailey touched his wings, Tarvyn heard his gasp of surprise. “It’s soft.”

  “My wings.” Tarvyn sighed at the tingling caress. “I’ve been told there is nothing in the world like being wrapped in the wings of a Synn lover. Someday soon, I’d like to share that with you.”

  A long pause met his declaration. The pause worried him, but when Bailey completed exploring his wings, he moved to the front once more. “I think I would like that very much, but perhaps tonight is not the best night for that new experience.”

  Excitement ran wild through him at Bailey’s words. “Tomorrow then?”

  “Aye, lad. Tomorrow then.” The light of promise showed in Bailey’s gaze. His lover found him appealing and that was enough for now. As Bailey moved in once more for another kiss, he whispered, “Do you let me lead because you fear or because that is how you find pleasure?” Bailey’s lips swerved away from his lips and homed in on the sensitive skin below his ear.

  “I know I could take control, but would rather you keep it. You lead men well, and I would follow wherever you wish to take us.”

  “Aye, lad. I think I understand.” Bailey moved in once more for another kiss and he couldn’t believe how slow, almost tentative, the action became.

  Was it his appearance that changed the dominance that was so naturally within Bailey? If so, he would give it up. The promise of tomorrow was too great to rush tonight. He pushed his more human looks back to the surface, taking in his wings, but not bothering to form a tunic. He stood in Bailey’s embrace waiting for a reaction.

  “Oh…Tarvyn.”

  “I will be whatever you want for tonight. I want only to be with you.” He whispered the words and held his breath, waiting.

  “You are such a pleasure…” Then the kiss returned and this time felt as it had that first time in Bailey’s tent. Hard need and the promise of sex.

  He relaxed into Bailey’s strong arms, kissing him back in an attempt to express his own need. The kiss deepened to a long devouring of tongues, the borders of one mouth lost to another.

  Bailey’s hands claimed Tarvyn’s body, dragging his bare form flush against the coarse clothing. The abrasive contact left him gasping into the passion of their kiss. His hands were caught between them and gripped at Bailey’s shirt in an attempt to find an anchor in the flash flood of sensation.

  Then, with a spin, Bailey ended the kiss and turned him to face one of the posts of his bed. Before he could gather his wits to see what was being done, Bailey had used one silk scarf to bind him to the bedpost.

  “I’m sure you can break that if you wish, but know that if you do, I will stop. I need this for our first, honest time together.”

  Tarvyn shuddered at the fiery desire flaring bright in Bailey’s eyes. “I understand, and I will not get free until you release me.” In truth, he couldn’t. The scarf Bailey had chosen was blessed with sacred gleipnir and the magic would keep him bound secure. But he hadn’t the time to tell Bailey.

  His lover thrust him down against the bed while stroking hands over his body. The caresses left him gasping. So rough, yet so perfect. It was not pain but dominant desire, and it was just what he wanted. The brush of a callused thumb here, the grip of tight fingers there.

  He turned to look at Bailey over one shoulder and was turned back with a slap to his ass. But that glance had been enough. Bailey had shed his clothes and was stroking his staff with one hand. The image burned into Tarvyn’s memory. Next time they made love, he would have free rein with that body.

  For this time he waited and accepted.

  Then Bailey’s touch returned. His lover’s hands caught at his hips. Their bodies crashed together in one flush contact from thigh to shoulder. Bailey kissed down over the nape of his neck. One hand moved to cup his swollen cock, stroking his fluids over the length. The pleasure was sharp as the calluses of Bailey’s fingers added a delicious scrape to each unhurried caress.

  Tarvyn bucked under the onslaught to his senses.

  But the hand had no mercy, and neither did the mouth, which opened and sank teeth into his shoulder, pinning him in place. Then the bite faded into a thousand kisses. “Damn, Tarvyn. I want you so badly.”

  Tarvyn was past speech. He let his mind talk directly to Bailey’s while his body focused on gasping for breath. Then take me, my lover. Take me now.

  Bailey’s answer was to shift weight and slide his thick cock up and down the crack of Tarvyn’s ass. It was an offer, a promise, and a preparation. In moments, that part would be claiming him. The world might continue for everyone else but, after that moment of entry, he would belong to Bailey in every sense of the word.

  He pushed back as if to merge their bodies.

  One of Bailey’s arms wound around his waist, anchoring him, as the other hand stoked up his thigh. Then he felt the head of Bailey’s cock pressing tight and hard at his entrance. The heat of that touch hit him first, then the pressure and slow force of their bodies becoming one.

  Bailey’s motion was incremental, too slow by far. He understood the caution and desire to avoid causing pain, but he wanted so much more. There was no way for this act to hurt him. He was a Synn demon sharing pleasure with a lover.

  He pushed back against Bailey and cried out on a gasp as they came together fully. The stretch and burn was all pleasure. He clenched around Bailey in welcome and joy.

  It was beyond perfect, this feeling of oneness. He was filled, and they fit beautifully.

  Bailey pressed kisses against his back and held him tight in arms that shook. Their hips rocked together. The motion drove their passion past the moment of loving and into raw desire.

  Bailey’s hand returned to stroking Tarvyn’s cock in time with the motion of their bodies. For the passing of three strokes, he maintained that even action, then he lost the rhythm and fell into wild thrusting that left them both groaning.

  In some part of his mind, he felt Bailey’s release, but the rest of his mind was lost in his own pleasure. The whirl of sensation blossomed, exploded, and then faded. He came back to his body to find Bailey had unbound him and curled them together on his bed.

  Bailey loved how perfectly Tarvyn fit against his body. He’d never felt such a thing in all his life. How could it happen that this man that seemed to complete him wasn’t even human?

  Tarvyn snuggled into the blankets and made the most delicious contented sounds he’d ever heard.

  This beautiful creature was a demon. How could that be? All he’d ever heard was that demons were evil. This was not any form of evil he’d ever considered before.

  Tarvyn’s back arched just enough to push the lad’s lean body into his, coming to rest cradling his rising erection.

  No, nothing about this was evil.

  Only one thing nagged at his mind. Why had the injured man been so convinced that Tarvyn had been trying to kill him?

  Something in his posture or motion must have bothered Tarvyn, because his lover rolled over to face him with fathomless eyes that still held satisfaction.

  “What is it, Bailey? What’s wrong?” Tarvyn’s body was still relaxed, but his expression sharpened with a worry, drawing his fine eyebrows closer. “I can feel your doubts. They beat at me.”

  He took a deep breath, steadying his resolve. “Why were you there? Why were you on that battlefield?”

  “I was there to kill those men, b
ut not in any way that you should fear.”

  He pushed back, rolling to the side of the bed, before realizing there was no point in running. He couldn’t leave hell without Tarvyn’s help. He sat on the edge of the bed and waited to hear the rest, praying there was some truth that would make this right. And if there wasn’t, maybe he would even accept a lie. Maybe…

  “I told you I am a Tascryn demon, but I never explained just what that means.”

  “Then explain now.”

  Tarvyn sighed, the sound filling the room. “Do you believe in a god who cares for all the souls of people? It doesn’t matter what name you call the Creator, so long as you believe in something.”

  He nodded. He’d always believed in a higher being.

  “We call that god the Creator, and we do his work as he made us to do. Each being is given a soul that is the essence of that being. Whether born once or many times, that soul is the link between lives. And when a being is ready to die and go on to the next life, we Tascryn Demons are sometimes called to help guide the soul to the right path to be sure it is not lost due to confusion or pain.”

  “Demons are in charge of watching over human souls?” It seemed unbelievable.

  “Sometimes, yes.” Tarvyn moved a little closer. “It is our duty and privilege to protect mortal souls. We are given specific tascs to watch over and help if needed, but we never take the souls of those who are not already destined to die.”

  “Were you killing those men on the field?”

  Tarvyn reached toward him, but let his hand fall without making contact. Instead he tangled his fingers into a knot with his arms wrapping around his drawn up knees. “I was sent there to ease their suffering. Many were dying and would only suffer longer if they lingered.”

  “You killed them.”

  “Not really. I’m not into the killing. All I did was offer solace to their souls, which were screaming in fear and pain. I comforted them and they let go of life on their own.”

  He wanted to believe Tarvyn. He’d never seen Tarvyn commit any violence, let alone kill. The image of his lover’s tearstained cheeks and how he’d found him next to the battlefield spoke of a gentle soul affected by all the suffering. Not of a killer. He searched the lad’s face and wondered if he could read the truth there. Instead of truth or lies, all he saw was Tarvyn’s fear of rejection.