by Xenia Melzer
That question was met with pure anger. “It’s none of your business. Just leave me alone.”
“Okay, okay. Calm down. I’m going to leave for the bath. Although it’s a pity. I had planned something special.”
Those words, meant to redirect the mood, turned out to be oil to Casto’s flame. Casto could feel his rage getting the better of him, and he started to talk without thinking. “Ha! It’s certainly nothing you haven’t done with others before!”
Renaldo’s eyes lit up dangerously. He’d kept his cool for an atypically long period of time, but Casto’s irrational behavior ignited his own fury. “What was that?”
“You heard me clearly, Barbarian. Is anything of what you’ve done with me truly original, or did you simply repeat what worked with others before? It’s not as if you lack training.”
“Watch your mouth, slave. I don’t like the tone of your voice.”
“I’m not your slave anymore, so stop calling me that! And is it just my tone or what I have to say? Am I hitting a sore spot when I remind you of my predecessors? Tell me, am I as good as Noran between the sheets, or do I need to be taught?”
The silence following those words was so intense it was almost noise.
When Renaldo finally spoke, his voice was as icy as his face, his whole body stiff. “How do you know about Noran and me?”
Casto froze. He could never admit he was reading the chronicles; that would be another defeat at the hands of a man who had already beaten him so often. “I heard it today. And it doesn’t really matter, since the only remaining question is what you could want from me when you can have an Emeris in your bed anytime you wanted.”
Renaldo approached Casto and urged him against the wall with his sheer presence. He dropped his hands heavily on Casto’s shoulders. He didn’t know how Casto had found out about that special relationship, but Casto’s anger was obvious. Seeing Casto jealous like that was a balm on Renaldo’s own possessive nature. On the other hand, he feared the consequences, so he decided to draw the battle lines once and for all.
“What I want from you?” A hard, demanding kiss. “I think you already know that by heart. The only remaining question, as you put it, is whether you acknowledge it to yourself or not.”
Again a kiss that made Casto’s knees weak. In order not to fall down, he had to cling to Renaldo. He could feel a tension in the warrior’s body, identical to his own, through his fingertips. Heat flared between them, ignited by their mutual anger, and turned into a darting flame that burned them both in blind lust.
Again their mysterious attraction, the origin of which both men were oblivious to, overwhelmed them.
Casto didn’t have to answer his master with words: his body took on that duty for him when he snuggled submissively against Renaldo, obedient only to his lust.
With his strong arms, Renaldo scooped up Casto and carried him to the bath, ripped off his clothes as if they were only made of cobwebs, and threw him into the warm water. In the tub he pushed Casto against the edge and snaked his arms around him, forcing him into submission. Whimpering, Casto gave in, offered himself willingly while all-consuming lust wiped away the last vestiges of his anger and left nothing but a terrible, never-ending hunger that only grew worse every time they sated it.
Several hours later they separated, both exhausted, both still angry. They’d already left the bath and exchanged it for the bed.
Renaldo loomed over Casto, pinning him down mercilessly. His gaze pierced the flaming blue of his difficult, mysterious lover. “Why are you so upset about my affair with Noran? Until now you couldn’t care less who I bedded before you.”
The eerie blue in Casto’s eyes darkened. In vain, Casto tried to escape the Barbarian’s grip. “It’s different with him. He didn’t just amuse you for one night. With him it lasted.”
“It lasted?” Renaldo made a short, barking sound. He didn’t sound amused. “Casto, our affair lasted for about three months, and during that time I definitely wasn’t monogamous. It only persisted for so long because the sex was noncommittal.”
“He’s your friend and brother-in-arms.”
“The connection’s not as deep as it used to be.” Renaldo loosened his grip and pulled Casto up, engulfing his face in his hands. His voice was soft now. “There’s only you for me, my own. You’re all I need.” He watched the blue lighten again, only to be shadowed by sorrow.
“Am I? I warm your bed, but I’m neither your friend nor your brother-in-arms. I’m just a body you use, nothing more.”
“What do you mean, Casto?”
Now Casto was crying. Tears streamed down his face like a river, but no sob escaped his lips. “That means I want to be more than just a nice fuck. Because that’s what it always comes down to. We have a fight… and then we end up in bed because we’re unable to solve our conflicts otherwise. You’re keeping me because I’m amusing… and you’ve made me the way you want. I’m a creature molded by your will… I’m unable to leave you. How utterly pathetic.”
Shocked, Renaldo lowered his hands. He avoided Casto’s gaze—the young man he thought he’d known. “That’s not true, Casto. You’re far too strong to be formed by me. I like your strength.”
“Yes, because it submits to you.”
Casto’s voice was barely audible. The words sounded as if they’d been forced out of him with a poker, the summary of his misery. Casto had been successful in deceiving himself for a long time, had lulled himself into believing that he had at least a scrap of control over what was happening to him, but faced with the things he’d found out about himself today, it was no longer possible to ignore the facts. As much as he resented it, to Renaldo, Casto was nothing but a toy, an amusement along the way.
And Casto had been stupid enough to fall in love with him, to grant him an influence nobody had possessed over him before.
In that moment, Casto hated himself with all his might.
“It’s not true.” Renaldo sounded stubborn. He reached for Casto’s face but stopped in midair. Lost for words, they knelt on the bed, staring at each other without finding what they were looking for.
Casto waited desperately for Renaldo to finally tell him that he loved him.
Since he read the prophecy, he’d been longing to hear those words from Renaldo, the confirmation that he wouldn’t have to worry about being replaced someday. But it seemed as if Renaldo wouldn’t do him that favor. Casto cursed himself, cursed the whole situation, cursed his fate that had bound him to a man he couldn’t escape from and who was holding his heart in his hands, carelessly hurting it time and again. His inability to leave both wounded and enraged him, but he was too tired to deal with the insoluble problem any further.
He left the bed, keeping his gaze down so Renaldo couldn’t see how much he was troubled. “I’m going to wash myself. It may take some time.”
Renaldo let Casto leave without protest, glad for the opportunity to be alone. Casto’s outburst had surprised him, and it pained him how accurately he had described their relationship. Ever since Renaldo met him, he’d fought against the undertow that pulled him closer to his former slave, his lover.
It couldn’t be that he had fallen for a mere mortal. The powerful Angel of Death could not have given in to the charms of a young man on the brink of maturity.
The feelings he harbored for Casto were so overwhelming and disturbing, Renaldo tried to ignore them as much as possible so he wouldn’t become vulnerable. He knew all too well how time itself would crush this love. Not for the first time did he contemplate it might be better if the young man left the Valley. But the thought of having to live without Casto was like a dagger to his heart. He’d already gotten too used to having Casto around to send him away now, even though he knew how egoistic that was.
It was partly because he was a god and every human’s destiny was to serve him. Casto was no exception to that rule. And even if it made Casto unhappy, it was his master and god’s will that he stay by his side. Nevertheless, Renaldo
would try to repay Casto for his sacrifice.
Determined, Renaldo got up to make peace with Casto.
Casto was floating in the water with his eyes closed. He looked almost at ease. Renaldo joined him, pulled him close, and kissed him on the cheek. His lips were close to Casto’s ear when he started to speak.
“I’m sorry, Casto. Right from the beginning, I’ve never been fair towards you. When I saw you for the first time, I knew I wanted to possess you. I’ve lived for so long, I’ve gotten used to getting whatever I desire. I know you’re not here of your own free will, and I’m aware of how much you resent having to serve me. That, too, is my fault. But it can’t be changed. Even if I wanted to, I just can’t let you leave. You’re mine.”
Renaldo could feel Casto tensing at those words. He hurried on. “Please believe me when I say I’m going to make it up to you. Please allow me to. I want you to be happy, and I swear to you, I’ll do everything in my power to ensure it.”
Casto started to tremble in his arms. He buried his face on Renaldo’s shoulder. His voice was flat because he didn’t want Renaldo to hear the unshed tears in it. There was no escape for him anymore, and the severity of the defeat made him despair.
“It’s me who should be sorry, Master. I was stupid. Please forgive my unreasonable behavior.”
“You’re never unreasonable, my own. And now allow me to reconcile with you.”
For a moment Casto hesitated, but then he let Renaldo sweep him away in a gale of lust, although he still felt a semblance of self-loathing.
2. Noemi
“I HAVE good news!”
Pleased with himself and the world, Damon leaned against the dusty wall of the shed in which he usually met with Assani.
She regarded him hungrily. She knew him well enough to know that his news was going to delight her. “Your investigations have been successful?”
“Not only my investigations, which, as I want to humbly point out, have verified my suspicions. I already have a plan. This time it’ll be the bastards’ downfall—and I do mean that literally.”
“Share.”
At Assani’s greedy voice, Damon couldn’t suppress a condescending smile. The woman was so ice-cold it impressed even him. “You’re terribly nosy, but since I’m going to need your help… you’re going to play a vital part in my plan. When the time is ripe, you’ll go to Renaldo and tell him you’re having an affair with Casto.”
Assani’s eyes widened in terror. Even her ruthlessness seemed to have limits. “He’d never believe that. It would be my death!”
“Not when you have proof to back up your story. And when a certain dupability has taken hold of Renaldo.”
“Magic?”
“We’ll change the shrouding spell slightly. It’s going to cost us a little more blood than usual, but it’s worth the price.”
“I still don’t get you. The law states that Casto can have sex with whomever he pleases. The Angel of Death can accuse him of bad style, but he has no right to kill him for it.”
“We know that, but the bastard won’t see it that way. He’ll believe that Casto has no right to get involved with others.”
After a moment’s silence, Assani’s mouth formed a perfect O of surprise. Her face was highlighted by a malicious gleam that made her almost attractive in Damon’s eyes. “Casto is his heart, isn’t he?”
Damon made a mental note to never forget that the woman in front of him was no fool—her intuition and sharp mind could be dangerous in the future. “I’m sure of it. Or at least as sure as I can be under the circumstances. The hearts are protected by powerful magic, but their true nature can only be seen after they’ve been acknowledged by Ana-Isara. As far as I know, even the goddess has to wait for certain conditions that allow her to reveal the heart. The spell we’ve cast strengthens that protection—that’s why it took me so long to recognize the truth. All signs are indicative of Casto being the one we’ve been searching for.”
“And when Renaldo kills him in a fit of temper….”
“Then they die together.” Damon couldn’t suppress his malicious grin. He didn’t understand why Ana-Isara and her sister had tied this special condition to the finding of the hearts, but since it was perfect for his plans, he certainly wasn’t sad about it.
After their hearts had been taken from the brothers, the Holy Mothers had entrusted them to chance. It was entirely possible that Noemi, as well as Casto, had already wandered Ana-Darasa several times just to die a natural death. That didn’t pose a problem since their divine natures had placed them outside the cycle of life and death. They would be reborn as many times as it took until they found their masters. Only when one of the brothers killed his heart with his own hands would that cycle finally be ended.
After all, only a god was able to destroy a god.
It was simply too good. Should the hot-tempered Angel of Death kill Casto in his rage, they both would die and the Good Mother would triumph. Without his brother it would be impossible for Canubis to win the war. Even if Renaldo didn’t kill his heart with his own hands, Casto’s death would still grant the followers of the Good Mother a reprieve that would allow them to gather greater strength. A triumph for the Good Mother, no matter how you looked at it—
“What do I have to do?”
Assani’s voice pried Damon from his dreams of glory. He eyed her greedily. “First, I need blood. Yours and mine will flow tonight so the spell can reach its peak come the next new moon. That’s when we’ll strike.”
Wordlessly, Assani offered her unmarred arm to the priest of the Good Mother. Compared to Damon she was nothing but a child when it came to using magic, trained well enough to know what he was doing, but never herself able to achieve anything remotely similar.
The other followers they had brought into the Valley had no magical powers at all. They were there to obey Damon and, to some extent, Assani. Should the priest’s plan be successful, all would be rewarded greatly.
“Take as much as you need,” Assani murmured.
“Your willingness for self-sacrifice is admirable.”
While their mingled blood dripped into the ceremonial cup and burned up with an angry hiss, Damon explained their further course of action.
“We need something from Casto that you can use as proof of his infidelity.”
“How shall we get that? None of us is allowed into the Angel of Death’s chambers, and even if we were, the wolves would sense a theft immediately.”
Assani shuddered. The powerful predators were the biggest problem in the Valley. They moved around like shadows, appearing suddenly in unexpected places only to vanish the next instant. They were not only bigger than normal wolves but also a lot more intelligent, and they were absolutely loyal to Canubis. Whatever the wolf pack knew, the Wolf of War knew too.
Damon answered her. “That’s why we’re going to send somebody who won’t attract attention. I admit it’s a little risky, but it’s worth it.”
“Who do you want to use?”
“Sic. He’s dumb enough to be fooled by me. He has a strict master, which means he’ll never betray us for fear of what will happen to him, and he has free access to the chambers of all the Emeris. He’s the perfect candidate.”
Assani agreed with him—Sic was made for the task. And since she hated the little bootlicker, she would enjoy watching him suffer. “You’re truly vicious. I like it.”
Damon bowed to her in mockery. “Years of experience. But we have to be careful. The spell protects us, but still one wrong word can destroy it all. It’s almost two weeks till the next new moon. We have to make good use of that time.”
“I will lie low and leave everything to you. Only contact me when it’s necessary.”
“Good girl. Prepare for your part. Even though Renaldo’s senses are confused, he’s no fool. You have to be convincing.”
“Can’t you put a spell on him directly?”
“Unfortunately not. He’s a demigod. He would sense immediately when mag
ic targeted him. I’m sure you can imagine what would happen to us should he find out.”
Assani blanched. The methods of torture used by the brothers were infamous. Although it would be hard to hide her glee, she had to do it. After the bastard demigods’ downfall, when the Good Mother finally appeared in her full glory, Assani could celebrate the end of her enemies.
The final days were drawing near.
“SIC, HOW nice to see you here.”
Slightly startled, Sic looked up. He hadn’t expected to meet anybody in this shed at the edge of the wood. Noran had sent him to do an inventory of the tools stored here, and Sic had assumed he was alone.
Damon stepped out of the shadows, a slave Sic knew but always feared a little. Sic’s nature was too indulgent to actively talk bad about somebody else, but Damon made him shiver. Involuntarily Sic retreated a few steps from the malicious aura, which the man registered with a faint smile.
“We need to have a little talk, you and me.” Damon placed an arm around Sic’s shoulders, a gesture that could have been friendly were it not for his fingers digging painfully into Sic’s flesh.
Although Sic was definitely stronger than Damon, he did not fight back. Noran hated every kind of disturbance, and if Sic hurt another slave, his master would definitely punish him severely for it. “I don’t know what we should be talking about. And I don’t have time to be idle. My master is waiting for my return.”
“You will take the time,” Damon hissed. He, too, was aware that Sic could still gain the upper hand simply because he was physically stronger, something Damon had to prevent at all costs. So he used all his authority as a priest to render his victim helpless. When he saw fear in Sic’s eyes, he forced himself to smile. He needn’t overdo it. “Calm down. It’s nothing major. I’m just asking you to do me a favor.”
