by M. D. Grimm
He must have summoned the lube because his fingers were slicked with it. He stretched me patiently despite the urgency I felt in his body. His cock was at full mast and his breathing irregular.
“I love you, Morgorth.”
He looked up, his eyes blazing. Then he moved up my body, his fingers still sliding and stretching inside me.
“I know,” he said, grunting. “I don’t make it easy.”
“Who wants easy?” I cupped his face and kissed him hard. Our tongues played, and I clenched my inner muscles around his fingers, indicating I was ready.
Then I pulled away enough to say, “Fuck me.”
Magick flashed in his eyes, bright like a sun. He gripped my hips and penetrated me to the hilt in one thrust. I cried out, and he nipped my chin with a growl worthy of any beast of the forest. But after that, his lovemaking was far gentler. It was the first time to my memory he didn’t pound into me. Not that I minded his roughness, not in the least, but this was nice too. His thrusts were slow and sensual, causing me to feel every slide, every stretch. My fingers dug into his back as he panted in my face, his own strained.
I kissed him lightly. “You can pound me if you want.”
He shook his head, swallowed. “No. Need this.”
And so he drew it out and I became hard again. Then his tip nudged that special place inside, and I shuddered with a moan. After that, he kept nudging it, driving me insane. I gripped him close, my legs tight around his waist.
“Morgorth, please,” I begged.
“Not yet.”
He was torturing me and I loved him for it. I devoured his mouth as my fingers threaded through his hair.
“You feel so good,” I murmured, barely knowing what I was saying. I think I was slightly delirious. “I love you inside me. I love the way you stretch and claim me. Dark Mage. My dark mage.”
I kissed him between my words and they had the effect of causing him to thrust harder. Then he came and his heat filled me. He choked out my name and gripped me close as he continued to shudder his orgasm. I was still hard and managed to work my hand down to my own erection. It only took two strokes before I came again and my inner muscles clenched him tight. We both groaned and held each other as the world seemed to spin.
I blinked my eyes open sometime later to find my mate still lying on top of me. I could breathe so I wasn’t concerned. I stroked his back, smiling happily. It was amazing how in tune we were with each other when it came to lovemaking. We seemed to always know what the other needed.
“Pity me, Aishe,” Morgorth suddenly said.
I blinked. “What?”
“If I’m broken you’re the only one who can fix me. Pity me. I’m a bastard sometimes.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “I’m still here, aren’t I? Do your worst. You won’t get rid of me.”
Morgorth said nothing. He turned his head and kissed my cheek. It was the most gentle and tender kiss I’ve ever received in my life. I tightened my hold on him and cupped the back of his head. Oftentimes he was more eloquent with his gestures than with his words.
Chapter Fourteen
Morgorth
Aishe was right. He usually was. It got annoying. We trotted down the lane, having emerged from the forest. Our horses certainly seemed happy to breathe fresh air and see the sky. The crystal pointed in the direction of Olyvre’s home. That made sense since Lazur probably visited and threatened Olyvre right after he terrorized Matylde.
I glanced at Aishe out of the corner of my eye. He looked pensive, and I wondered what was going on inside his head. I knew I disappointed him when I admitted what the talk with Matylde had done. I didn’t realize just how deeply into despair I’d sunk until his words, as always, pulled me up once again. His love for me was a precious, shining thing, one I would hang onto jealously until the universe ended. He was that shining sun in a world of dark. I was ashamed of what I’d said of myself, what I actually believed, even for a short time. I had to pull myself together. I couldn’t be so easily shaken. These were the answers I’d craved for so long. I had to look at them the way Aishe described them: as pieces of the puzzle of my life.
I looked fully at Aishe then. He loved me against all logic, and I’d damn well work to be worthy of that love. I had to show him it wasn’t misplaced. I was going to win this battle. I was going to love, and I was going to be loved. Lazur couldn’t take that from me. He was going to pay for every horror he’d committed.
“What?”
I blinked. “What?”
Aishe raised an eyebrow. “You’re staring at me.”
I smiled. “You’re pretty.”
Aishe flushed slightly but grinned. “Then keep staring.”
I chuckled and reached across the space separating us, grabbed his hand, and kissed the back of it. Aishe’s eyes turned warm and soft, and I linked our fingers. We held hands as we continued down the lane.
It was early morning and foggy. I couldn’t see very far ahead, and I vaguely noticed a large bird dart over us, appearing and disappearing in a finger snap. My mind continued to shift through all the new information. I managed to detach myself enough I didn’t become angry or sad when thinking about it all again. I was looking for a weakness. Lazur was arrogant, for sure, his pride was swelling the longer he had the stone. He had an inferiority complex—that was obvious. He’d always felt lowly; always felt he didn’t get what he deserved, what was owed to him. He was the youngest son, given nothing or next to nothing for inheritance. He decided to punish the world for his shortcomings. But he had a brain. Lazur wasn’t a thug, but he wasn’t a genius, either. If he hadn’t broken ties with Matylde, who knew where or what I would be now?
I shuddered at the thought and shook that ‘what if’ away. Aishe told me not to play that game, and I followed his advice.
“Why hasn’t your father attacked us?” Aishe asked, interrupting my thoughts. “He brought you here for a reason.”
I looked around, considering. “He’s toying with me. He wants to make me feel as if I’m the mouse to his cat. That he’s superior, still in charge, and I’m just the scared, broken child. He wants me to search for him and fail, so I feel inadequate. Then he’ll attack, try to catch me off guard.”
“But he’s putting you on guard by leading you here and delaying his attack.”
“Ego,” I said simply. “He’s smart but his ego is his blind spot. He thinks he can take me on, that he can counter anything I throw at him.”
I paused. Then my eyes widened as my mind hit on something I should have considered before.
“By the Mother, he’s afraid.”
Aishe’s eyes widened as well. “Of you?”
“Fuck yes, of me. By Creation’s Light, am I blind. Why didn’t I see this before?”
“You’ve had a lot on your mind.”
I waved that away. “I’ve been too stuck on myself to see the obvious.” And that was going to change. “He didn’t run away from home to seek his fortune after I left, or at least, not only. He left because he was afraid I would come back and kill him. I’d already set the house on fire and threatened them as a child. What would I do to him as an adult? He knew what he’d done to me and knew what I was, what I would become.” I ran my fingers through my hair as more of it seemed to fall into place.
“He had to find a way to defend himself. He ran away, stayed hidden, and searched for something that would give him a chance at defending himself. He feared I would come for him one day, because he’s all about revenge and wrath. He would never consider I wanted nothing more to do with him, or my family. That I would still fear him.”
“But he hopes you still fear him,” Aishe said when I paused. “He’s trying to make you fear him again. He wants to tip the scales in his favor, to be the stronger of you both.”
“He’s making me play his game. He wants me here because he’s ready, he’s calling the shots. And I’ve been playing by his rules.”
I shook my head. I stared at the crystal and
shoved it into my pouch.
“I’m done playing. Let him come to me.” My will hardened as my grip on the reins tightened. “If he wants this duel he can get his cowardly ass out of whatever dung heap he’s slithered into and stand.”
“You know,” Aishe said softly after a moment of silence. “There is one thing that would make him emerge sooner. If you fixed some of the pain he’s caused.”
I frowned, eyed him. “What do you mean?”
“Well, mending ties with your brothers could be a start. Helping Matylde and Lorelei after that. I’m sure he’s committed other atrocities. You could start healing the wounds he’s created.”
I frowned harder. “I don’t want to know my brothers and they don’t want to know me.”
“Because of him,” he urged. “Your father started all this. Tear down his rules and make your own, Morgorth.”
I considered his words but the very idea of becoming chummy with my siblings made my magick flash hot in rebellion. I wanted nothing to do with any of them. Well, maybe Olyvre was better than the rest but...and Crystif seemed sincerely repentant. I sighed loudly.
“I don’t need family.”
“You have them whether you want them or not.”
“Family doesn’t do what they did.”
“You’re right.”
Exasperated, I scowled. “You’re not making any sense, Aishe.”
Aishe rolled his eyes. “Family is not only blood, Morgorth. Oftentimes the family not bonded by blood is the one that endures. You have family, Morgorth, just not by blood. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try at least with Olyvre. Maybe even Lorelei.”
“Aren’t you the one who expressed the desire to skewer all of them on your arrows?”
“That was before I knew them. It’s easy to hate from afar. I’m not saying you should become friends with Lazylin and the other brother who picked a fight. What I’m saying is...bond with the ones who want to be friends. You have a choice, Morgorth. Let them in or let them go. Anyway”—he looked away—“that’s just my advice. I’ll support whatever decision you make.”
I hated when he did that. He did it so well. He gave me good advice, causing me to think past my stubbornness, then he’d backtrack and announce he’d stand by me no matter what. He also made me think about his brothers, brothers I had met when I traveled into the past. They’d been his friends. His tribe had been family. He knew the meaning of the word better than I did.
He said I had family. I suppose he meant Master Ulezander—and boy, did I have a bone to pick with him—but that mage was hardly...then there was Grendela and the boygles, but could they be considered as family? Grekel and the wichtln were my lieutenants, keeping guard over Vorgoroth whenever I left. But their loyalty was conditional. Happy Valley was full of simpletons who stayed despite their fear of me. I had Enfernlo, a payshtha who decided the moment we met to become my friend. He was the only one I could really consider an unconditional friend. But there was Elissya as well. Then there was Aishe.
Should I include Olyvre and Lorelei in my life? Was I even capable of that?
Hunter’s Bow, how many creatures was that? I felt suffocated by the mere thought of all who were in my life.
I suddenly heard a loud noise ahead of us on the road moments before a large purple carriage pulled by four black steeds came roaring toward us from down the lane. It burst out of the fog like a coach from the spirit realm. We urged our horses to one side as it careened past us, dirt and dust kicked up by the mighty hooves of the beasts. The curtains on the windows were closed, and the footman dressed in purple, his face hidden behind a yellow mask. He was rather vicious with his whip, and I barely had time to register what I was seeing before it was far behind us.
I coughed and hacked as dust settled in my lungs. Then I heard the screams. They came from ahead of us, exactly where the carriage had originated from. I saw fire rising into the sky, flickering in and out of the fog. A split second passed as our eyes met before we both urged our horses over a small rise and around a corner. Large fields met our eyes, some on fire that various seelas were trying to smother. But it was the house in front of the fields that caught my eye and made my stomach drop. It was Olyvre’s house and it was nearly burned to ash.
I kicked my heels into Lax’s side and he burst down the lane. I sensed Aishe close behind but at that moment all I felt was panic and dread. My magick burned and flared inside me as it awaited my command. I pulled hard on the reins as soon as I reached the front of house. Leaping off the horse, I ran flat out to the cottage.
The fire roared and cackled, blue, yellow, and red flames licking at the wood and sending billows of smoke into the sky. Seelas swarmed around it, using water from the nearby well to try and drown the fire. It would never work, the fire was too ferocious. I ran to the front and planted my feet.
“Everyone back!”
One look at me and everyone scattered. My magick burned at the surface, boiling my gut, tightening my muscles. I flung out my hands. I sent magick out and latched onto the magick of the fire element. I pulled a portion of the fire’s energy inside me and realized, the moment I touched it, this was not a natural fire. This was mage fire. Gritting my teeth, I used the magick of the element to kill it. It wasn’t easy but it wasn’t as hard as other spells I’d performed. The fire slowly receded, fading away, leaving charred wood and ash behind. I expelled all the foreign magick, determined to find the source, the mage who had dared attack my brother.
Perhaps I should have found it odd that I felt so possessive over Olyvre. But part of me had known, the moment I knocked on his door and he’d greeted me with a smile, that I would never be able to forget him. It hadn’t been my father who attacked Olyvre’s house. The stones had a different essence, or magickal signature. They were acutely different from the magick born inside a mage. But the purple carriage, the masked rider, the beautiful steads. I had a good idea who’d paid my brother a visit.
I lifted my eyes to find everyone staring at me. Covered in ash and sweat, they remained unmoving.
“Ollie!” I shouted. I looked around but my brother didn’t appear. My stomach pitched before I glanced at one burly male who looked to be in charge.
I pointed. “You, where is Olyvre?”
He swallowed several times before managing to find his voice. “Are you Morgorth?”
“Yes.” Impatience made me snappy.
He paled. “Another mage, one from Illum, came and...and he took them. He took Olyvre and Lyli.”
Elder Elorn.
Fire erupted along my arms, bright white and shining. Everyone backed away. All except one. Aishe stood in front of me suddenly, his eyes flat, his mouth pulled into a thin line. He reached over and fearlessly put his hands inside the fire and gripped my arms.
“We will get them back, Morgorth. You need to think now. We need to be cautious and smart now.”
“No.”
“What?”
I stared into his eyes. My wrath bubbled and my magick flared, even my eyes burned. “We will get them back. We will be smart, but we won’t be cautious. That bastard crossed a line when he touched what was mine. When he pulled innocents into a war that should have remained between him and me.” I smiled suddenly, but it was as sharp as a blade. “It seems I’ll be fighting two duels before we return home.”
Chapter Fifteen
Aishe
I was terrified and tried not to show it.
Morgorth teleported us to the kingdom and we returned the horses—who were quite agitated from the trip—to the inn. Then Morgorth charged toward the palace, and I followed close, trying to comprehend what he’d told me about mages’ duels.
It was to the death. A mage with a legitimate grievance could challenge another mage to a duel. There were no seconds. The last one to die was the victor. The fact Elder Elorn was a council member and one of the Hand, didn’t matter. The Council of Mages didn’t need to be involved. The only thing needed was the word of two witnesses, one for ea
ch dueler, to watch the battle and report truthfully of all they had seen. Apparently, I was to be Morgorth’s witness.
My stomach was in knots but I kept my face as stone. Morgorth charged up the stairs and as two guards stepped forward to challenge him, he used a small bit of force to throw them to the ground. Then he just kept walking. Despite my terror there was a zing of excitement to see Morgorth’s power. I was ridiculous sometimes. We entered a large greeting area. Nobles mingled, merchants told tales, and there were a few younger mages in attendance. I didn’t see anyone who looked like the king or queen but was unfamiliar with the society of this kingdom. I didn’t see Elder Elorn either.
Morgorth’s boots pounded the polished stone and echoed over even the festive chatter of those gathered. It wasn’t long before conversation dropped, before eyes fixed and followed us. Morgorth never wavered, never hesitated. He shoved through the crowd, using muscle and magick. When anyone had the courage to try and question him, he’d scorch them with a look.
I followed in his wake, head tall and shoulders back. I got plenty of stares as well. I’m sure many of these creatures had never seen a dialen before. Morgorth continued up the stairs to a platform that would probably hold a throne during formal occasions. A doorway stood behind it that opened up to a steep flight of stairs. Morgorth led the way, silent the entire time. I didn’t say anything, either; I felt that would be unwise. His eyes and skin were glowing but there was no fire on his arms anymore. He was barely hanging onto control. I didn’t want to do anything to shake that.
We came to a corridor and that was where Morgorth stopped. He looked right, then left, and seemed to fume. He cursed rather viciously and expanded my Earth vocabulary considerably.
“Elder Elorn!” Morgorth bellowed. I winced before I regained my composure. Several servants were startled so badly, they fell to the floor. Then they scampered away.
A door opened in the corridor to our right. It was the last door, the one farthest from us. I stepped behind Morgorth, slightly to his left. Elder Elorn stared at us from down the hall, his eyes wide. He looked utterly shocked and I had to wonder why. Didn’t he steal Olyvre to provoke Morgorth? What were his reasons?
