Fallen

by Ivy Cross

  Dekkar doesn’t make me ask.

  He rises to his knees, then uses his strong arms to pull me up in the cot. For a maddening moment, Dekkar’s stone-like cock slides against my opening, teasing entry. I don’t want to beg, but if he makes me wait even a second longer, I’ll do just that.

  Dekkar moans low in his chest, as though reading my thoughts.

  My whole body shivers as he glides gently into me. He’s enormous, but it isn’t like anything I expected. It’s pressure and pleasure enough to make me feel like I might burst—like I’m being filled up completely with brain-melting ecstasy.

  I don’t even try to hold onto the moment—there’s no use. Dekkar groans deeply and I writhe beneath him, far beyond thought. Everything but Dekkar melts away as my body is again wracked with the electric feeling of another rapidly expanding orgasm. My whole body shakes until I think I might fall apart… but I could not care less if I do.

  He mouths the word goddess, piercing me with his fiery gaze. But, if there is sound to his word, it is lost in my screams of pleasure.

  Chapter 20 – Dekkar

  I stagger up from the cot, panting like an elder many cycles beyond his prime, and walk carefully to the storage basket at the corner of the room.

  “Are you okay?” Talia is out of breath too, but that is only the result of our mating.

  “I am more than okay,” I say, pulling a small cloth pouch of vella root from the basket. “But I may have underestimated the effect of Haelar’s poison. I am still weak, and you deserve me at my full strength.” I toss a large lump of the pale root into my mouth and chew it thoroughly until the bitter flavor starts to lessen, and I begin to feel the tingling numbness in my tongue.

  Talia rolls onto her front to watch me. The light from the window sets her glistening skin aglow, hugging the smooth curves of her backside. The sight of her there naked in my bed—our bed—is almost too much for me to handle.

  I feel my cock stirring anew and fling the pouch to the floor beside the basket. I let out a loud growl and begin to stalk toward her once again. Poison be damned, I will have my woman when I wish.

  “Hey!” Talia giggles, rolling back from my advances. “I don’t want you dying on me. How about a little bit of rest first?”

  “It would be worth it,” I say, finding her sweet, soft lips with my own. “I would die a thousand deaths just for the touch of your skin.”

  “That’s sweet and all,” she says, “but I would much rather have you alive and well and by my side.”

  She sits up, then climbs from the cot and stretches dramatically, her back arching and pushing out her ample breasts toward me. If she is not trying to entice me, she is failing miserably.

  I pull her tiny body against me and relish the feeling of her soft, warm flesh against my own. Every inch of my body seems to vibrate with want for her—to be inside her again and taste the honey of her tongue.

  “I’m serious,” she says, staring up to meet my gaze and likely reading my thoughts at the same time. “And… I believe you promised me a tour of your village.”

  “Our village,” I reply. And I can see she is serious about my resting. Perhaps she is right. I do not doubt I could go on ignoring the health of my body while enjoying the pleasures of hers. I could do that until I could do nothing again.

  “Very well,” I say with a reluctant sigh. “A promise is a promise.”

  “Great, it’s a date.” Talia hops away from me and toward the bedroom’s exit. “I just hate having to put those filthy clothes on again.”

  “You can go as you are,” I suggest, running my eyes slowly down her naked body. “The day is warm…”

  “I thought you said the sight of this body was for you alone.” She exaggerates her movements as she walks toward the doorway, accentuating the curves of her thighs.

  “You are right, of course,” I say, my eyes still glued to her body. “No one would be able to look away from you… and it would be a tiring day for me if I have to slay every warrior in the village. If you would like, you can check the chest in the corner. There may be an old tunic from my youth that would fit you.”

  Talia freezes in her tracks and whirls back to look at me. “You’re serious?”

  “The garments are old and likely frayed, but they are clean.”

  She rushes over to the chest in the corner of the room and pries up its age-worn lid. “There’s a lot of stuff in here.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “Well, you don’t strike me as a man who makes a lot of wardrobe changes, so I sort of thought you’d only have a spare set of leathers or two…” She pulls a pale green tunic from the chest and holds it up to her body for measure. The garment is something I have not worn since adolescence, and I am a little surprised it is still in my possession.

  “Life here is not all battles and hunting,” I answer. “Even a warrior needs to dress more formally for events and rituals. I think you may be surprised by all life here has to offer.”

  “You don’t have to sell me on it, Dekkar. You’ve already convinced me.” Talia tugs the garment down over her head, then smooths the woven fabric with her hands. The bottom edge of the tunic falls a hand’s length above her knees and draws my eyes to the sweet warmth between her thighs that lies just hidden from sight.

  “I’ll take that look to mean this doesn’t look completely ridiculous.”

  I walk over and lean down to find her lips, kissing her deeply and relishing the honeyed nectar of her tongue. When I pull away, Talia’s cheeks are decorated with a rosy blush.

  “Are you sure we have to go?” I ask.

  ***

  “I’m actually surprised they didn’t give you any trouble this time,” Talia says, casting a glance back at our four escorts.

  I pause beside her to give her time to admire the skillfully crafted Maiwa pole that stands just along the edge of the main path. In the brilliant light of the day, it is easy to make out the many faces of the mythical figures, both good and evil, that peer out from the deeply polished wood.

  “You should not be,” I say, looking back and smiling at our four guards. “We are in better company than before.” I give Ib and Aena a nod of thanks, and they return it in kind. The two striplings at the rear regard me coolly, but there is no malice to be found in their eyes.

  Axxa and his ally were nowhere to be seen when Talia and I emerge from the hut, and no one was brought in to fill their spots. I supposed if word of our confrontation got back to Gellis—and I am certain it did—he decided more guards were unnecessary. If I had planned to flee, I would have done so then.

  “This is so detailed,” Talia says, running her hands along the etched surface of the pole.

  One of the guards behind us clears his throat, so I place a hand on Talia’s arm and guide it from the Maiwa before he can say anything. “It serves as a ward against those who would wish ill upon the Vanthae. The elders say it should not be touched,” I say, grinning at the brief flash of embarrassment on Talia’s face.

  “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean any harm.”

  I shake my head, still grinning. “I have always believed the elders make up these things to make themselves seem important. You have done no harm.”

  I hear Ib chuckle behind me. “You should tell her about Gellis’s urn.” Even the striplings have to laugh at that.

  “Urn?”

  “It is a ceramic jug, stained red,” Ib continues. “To hear Gellis tell it, it is full of a magical nectar gifted to his father’s father by a Naia who lived in a dark lake within a cave.”

  Ib’s gap-tooth smile is infectious, and Talia is giggling before she even knows what he’s talking about. “And why is that funny exactly?”

  “Well, he says that by taking a small sip of the nectar, he can divine the future—see all of our tribe’s great victories and tragic defeats. He even hauls the thing out at every ceremony and holds it near him like a crying babe.”

  The sniggering of the two striplings in the rear des
cends into full-on belly laughs.

  “I still don’t get it,” Talia says, searching my eyes for the answer.

  “That is because Ib has not told you the punchline yet,” I say.

  Ib lowers his voice and leans in to divulge the worst kept secret in the village. “Every night the old man creeps out of his hut in the cover of darkness and makes his way down to one of the storehouses. He brings the urn along with him… and fills the damn thing with fruit wine!”

  The striplings can barely stand for their laughter.

  “He is not a seer!” Ib chokes out in a fit of laughter. “He is a fucking drunk!”

  Talia laughs brightly, but I can tell she is not as amused as the rest of us. Perhaps, it takes being raised under the august wisdom of Gellis’s tutelage to find the situation truly funny. That and seeing the old man whip the urn out at every village function…

  “Come,” I say, “there are other things I would have you see.”

  Talia falls into stride with me again, and I have to marvel at the pleasure of such a simple thing as having her by my side walking through the village I have known my whole life. It changes how I see everything here. The huts that I have seen so many times now stagger me with their craftsmanship and artistry, and the moss at the sides of the path seems to hold the light and almost glow. Even the air drips with a sweetness I have never known.

  “Dekkar! Dekkar!” A frantic voice from behind causes Talia to grab my arm in fear.

  I pat her arm reassuringly. “It is alright. I know this voice.”

  We turn to watch a lanky figure emerge from between two of the nearby huts. The stripling mostly has the body of a grown man, but the curve of his face betrays his youthfulness. As does the awkwardness of his gait—his brain has yet to catch up to his build, or so the elders say.

  “You look well, Nax,” I say as the young man slides to a breathless stop beside us. “Your jaw looks to be healed.”

  Nax brushes his fingers gingerly across the lower left side of his face. There is still considerable bruising from where Regar struck him, but it does not look like he will be permanently deformed.

  “Does not even hurt.” Nax swivels his head to look in all directions. “Regar hits like a decrepit basket weaver.” He puffs out his chest in response to the chuckles from his fellow striplings.

  “I—I heard you were back… and that you had claimed a mate.” Nax glances quickly to Talia but is hesitant to let his gaze linger.

  I have always had a fondness for Nax, but his manners now make me like him even more. Everyone knows it is crass to look upon another’s mate for very long, but so few seem willing to abide by such things. Even during this short walk, I have noticed Ib helping himself to an eyeful more than once. He has tried to be subtle about it but has not been very successful.

  Still, it is hard to fault them for their looks. I wonder if I could keep my eyes off of Talia if she had been claimed by another—or even my hands, for that matter.

  Nax fidgets with the edge of his leathers and clears his throat. It is clear he is trying to work up his nerve to say or do something.

  “You are here for a purpose,” I coax. “Spit it out.”

  Talia casts me an odd glance but does not say anything. Something in her look says she finds my own manners lacking.

  “I think it is a shame you have been treated this way… Gellis had no right to lock you away like a criminal.”

  “It is not so bad,” I say, clearly aware he is still stalling for some reason. I decide to follow Talia’s gentler ways and let him come out with it on his own time. “Our guards were kind enough to allow this walk, and it is a fine day for such a tour.”

  Nax taps a pouch on the side of his leathers but does not reply for a long moment.

  “When I heard you had claimed a mate and that she was the very one who fell from the stars… I made you something to honor your claiming.” Nax tugs the small pouch loose from his side and empties its contents into his hand.

  He holds out two medallion-sized stars carved from wood. Both have been attached to a length of leather twine.

  “I know the craftmanship is not very good… I have never been much of a carver but—”

  Talia reaches out and takes one of the necklaces, causing Nax to flinch and nearly stumble back over his own feet. “These are for us?” she says, ignoring the young man’s awkwardness. “This is beautiful!”

  I take the other necklace, as Talia loops the leather twine over her head. The star hangs just above her breasts, and I notice a small blue stone set at the center. Its color causes Talia’s light blue eyes to shine even brighter.

  I don my own necklace, then give Nax a hardy smack on the back. He beams with a mixture of embarrassment and pride.

  “This is a worthy gift,” I say. “Very worthy. I shall not forget it.”

  Nax shakes his head. “I should thank you, Dekkar. You did what I was too afraid to do—even when I knew it was the right thing to do. We all heard her cries for aid… but Regar would have had us turn a deaf ear to them. I have thought of nothing else since that time.”

  Nax leans in and lowers his voice so that only we might hear his words. “If I had that moment to live through again, I know I would now act as you did. And that is because of you.” His voice goes even lower, becoming an almost inaudible whisper. “You are the leader this tribe needs.”

  Chapter 21 – Dekkar

  A thunderous crash at the front door has me moving before I have fully awakened. I glide into position beside the bedroom doorway, the cool dirt floor sapping all sound from my footsteps. The torchlight from the other room licks at the darkness that surrounds me, but I welcome it—it will dazzle the intruders’ eyes and they will be at a disadvantage.

  “What—what is going on?” I slur my words with false sleep and pitch my voice back toward my bed and Talia’s only now rousing form. Better to have an attacker believe they have caught me unaware in my slumber—that overconfidence may be enough to make the difference in the end.

  “Come out, Dekkar,” Regar’s voice rings out. “I know you better than to rush in on you. I hear you have been awaiting my return… Well, here I am. You should feel honored. I came straight to you.”

  “Wait here,” I whisper to Talia, before slipping through the doorway and into the torchlight.

  In my main room, Regar stands with two guards at his sides. Calji guards. Both are far shorter than Regar, and they wear dark cloth masks over their mouths and noses. As I step closer, each draws a long, curved knife from their hip.

  Much must have transpired during Regar’s visit with the Calji.

  “You did not have to break my door,” I say, gazing at the wrecked wood behind them.

  “I was just so damn excited to see you, stripling. My eagerness got the better of me, what with this news you have of my dear brother Haelar.” Regar smiles coldly, clearly already aware of this news.

  “He was my Proving,” I respond evenly, ignoring the situation and implied threat. “And he was a coward who used poison to gain his victories.”

  Regar’s smile falters, but his eyes remain just as cold. “The Calji, our new allies, also use poison on their bolts and blades. Do you think them cowards as well?”

  “It is not our way. You know that and Haelar knew that.”

  “Oh, you know our ways so well? You, a stripling who walked away from his leader’s commands?”

  “I will make my case before the council,” I say, ignoring him. “And then I will challenge you for the leadership of this tribe, as you always knew I would.” I feel Talia’s warm presence at my back, but she does not speak.

  “The right of challenge…” Regar’s voice becomes a malicious purr. “I should not allow such a thing of a murderous outsider. I have only the word of you and that false Naia.” Regar gestures past me. “For all I know, you came upon Haelar in his sleep and slit his throat.”

  “You know your brother as well as anyone—” I begin.

  Regar raises a h
and. “Hold on. Hold on. I said I should not allow such a thing. But I will.”

  His revelation catches me like a punch to the stomach. There must be some game I am missing.

  “You… will honor my right of challenge? Just like that?”

  Regar makes a derisive sound in his throat. “You think much of yourself, Dekkar. I do not fear you. In fact, I welcome your challenge.”

  He takes a few steps forward, leaving his guards behind. His eyes move past me once again. “I quite look forward to our little battle,” he says, his eyes never leaving Talia. “When you lie dead at my feet, I will add this female to my collection.”

  “What collection?” I ask the question fearing I already know the answer.

  “The Calji were wrong about what they found,” Regar says. “I saw no Naia when I arrived at their village. But what they did have was still quite… interesting. I agreed to ally our tribe with theirs, and they saw fit to gift the strange females to me.”

  “How many are there? Are they here?” Talia’s tone is a mix of excitement and dread.

  Regar levels his gaze back on me. “You have taught her nothing?” He makes a clicking sound with his tongue, then speaks to Talia in the manner of an adult addressing a small child. “Those from outside the tribe may not speak to a Vanthae warrior unless asked to do so. You dishonor me with your lack of manners.”

  I move in front of Talia, and Regar takes a step back. “Address her like that again and I will end you before the challenge begins. Talia is not an outsider to our tribe. She has accepted my claim and may lower herself to speak to you if she so wishes.”

  “One of us? I think not. These creatures—”

  “Humans,” I say.

  “—may provide some entertainment,” Regar continues as though I had not spoken. “But they certainly are not worthy of joining our ranks.”

  “You are wrong.”

  Regar shakes his head dismissively. “It does not matter. The challenge will settle all matters. If I should fall, your decision for these females will hold sway. And, if you should fall, mine will.”