by Aja James
He muffled his groan against her shoulder as his release tore through him, his cock shuddering and spurting painfully within her vise-like clasp, his balls hard and tight against his body, lurching and squeezing to produce more cream to fill her.
She was insatiable for him.
He craved her desperately.
Gods, he never knew it could be like this. Even when he loved Kira the two stolen nights they had together, it hadn’t been anything remotely like this.
This endless, infinite, boundless need.
Wild. Uncontrollable. Irrepressible.
Frightening. Exhilarating. Enslaving. Freeing.
The Goddess had warned him against it. When he’d died as a human, she’d come to him in the in-between.
Dalair tried to recall her exact words…
Your soul is restless, warrior. You believe you have failed her—the one you tried to protect. You cannot return to the Balance like this. You have not yet fulfilled your Destiny.
And so I offer you another path: to become a Pure One in service of the Balance. Your bravery and determination will be tested as the Paladin, but you are strong. You will triumph.
Yet listen well, warrior. And heed my warning lest you lose yourself and the world around you to an eternity of Darkness and pain.
You will meet her again—the one you wish to protect. She will not be the same. Do not make the mistake twice. Choose wisely this time.
She was never meant to be yours…
No.
Dalair couldn’t accept the Goddess’s words. He wouldn’t.
Not now.
Not when they had finally Claimed each other.
Surely, the Goddess was wrong. Surely, there had to be a way for them to be together.
He curled more tightly around his female, needing every physical connection to reassure himself that she was his. That he would never lose her again.
The woman in his arms was both Kira and Sophia, but she was also so much more. He would spend the rest of his immortal existence learning her.
She was a wide-open book, full of Kira’s rebelliousness and mischief, and Sophia’s innocence and quirk. But she was also an enigma of swirling dark emotions. Voracious and violent. Insatiable and greedy. He loved her even more because of it. He loved her with a desperation and intensity that his human self could never have imagined.
Slowly, thickly, he pumped his hot length in and out of her with shallow nudges, grinding himself against her pleasure knot inside. He reached his free hand down to the place they were joined and caught the fluids that seeped out as he continued to fill her to overflowing with his seed.
Her nether lips were stretched thin around his girth, her bud quivering against the root of him as he nudged and stroked and thrust steadily, inexorably, inside. He touched his own thick stalk as it plowed into her tender flesh, the veins distended from the silken skin of his cock, abrading her channel in ways that made her writhe and wriggle restlessly with pleasure.
They were so slick and hot where his maleness penetrated her. He was deliciously sore, just as he knew she was too. But he couldn’t stop moving, undulating, flexing his sex within her. Releasing against her womb over and over.
Her body wanted it. Demanded it. So he gave her everything.
He gave his all.
He brought his cream-coated fingers to her lips, and immediately she sucked them inside, devouring his essence hungrily, moaning and mumbling in her sleep, spurring him on.
“More…more…Dalair…so good…mmm…”
He did this again and again, filling her, feeding her, wringing endless pleasure from her body. Marking her inside and out, rubbing his cum into her skin when he didn’t bring it to her pouting mouth.
Over her throat and shoulders. Down her sternum to her breasts. Where he paused to squeeze the plump mounds, plucking at her nipples, massaging his essence into the sensitive areoles. He stroked down her stomach to dip a finger into her shallow navel, rubbing his seed inside.
Her torso quaked against his as she moaned in abandon.
He flexed his hips and gave her more of himself. Collected the excess that leaked out of her with his hand. Worked his cum-slicked longest finger into her other hole and made her whole body clamp down on him, shuddering helplessly, shattering endlessly.
In and out. Thrust and grind.
He worked them both mercilessly, owning her pussy, ass and mouth with his cock, fingers and tongue. Even in her dreams, she clung to him, her body responding to his instinctively.
He was hers. Put on this earth solely to please her. Protect her. Serve her every need.
Maybe she wasn’t his. Maybe the Goddess was right. Maybe Destiny was a cruel, heartless bitch.
But he was hers. She’d chosen him. Destiny could go fuck herself if she disagreed.
He would never let her go again. Not even death could stand in his way.
He grasped her jaw and turned her head around to take her mouth in a voluptuous kiss, before pouring his hot seed into her hungry core one more time.
Dalair locked his jaw against a ravaging groan as he broke apart for her. His heart thundering and thrashing between them, filling his body with exultant pleasure and sweet pain as he emptied himself, poured every last drop of life and love into her.
He’d never given her the words, he was well aware. He’d never told her that he loved her. She said them freely, passionately, and he even believed her.
But he would always love her more. There were no words in any language that could convey what he felt for her. So he showed her with his body, through his actions, and prayed that she understood.
At last, he settled behind her, cocooning her totally. His body vibrated with both exhaustion and an endless supply of strength. Throbbed with soreness from both his residual wounds and hours upon hours of release.
But he was almost fully healed, he knew. By daylight, he would be as good as new. Perhaps even stronger than before.
Their Mating…the Claiming… had healed him. In every way.
First, she began the process with the joining of their bodies back at the Shield. Then, the melding of their minds in the helicopter. And now, their souls. Inextricably entwined.
He was Reawakened.
Dalair gathered Sophia as close as he could, finally stilling within and around her, letting sleep overtake him. They would need all of their strength for the road ahead. He could feel it.
Their enemies were closing in.
*** *** *** ***
Sophia snuggled deeper into the protective cocoon wrapped all around her. The hot brand throbbing inside her, filling her with peace and contentment, feeding her never ending hunger.
She needed his strength, his unconditional, infinite love. For the memories of Before assailed her subconscious mind, peeling back the scabs over old, forgotten wounds.
Leaving them raw and bloody, pulsing with ominous portent…
Third millennium BC. Capital City of Akkad. Sometime before the Great War.
It was just another day like any other.
Or so Titi thought.
Papa was chasing her in his leopard cub form round and round their humble hut, Titi squealing with delight and laughter whenever the kitten pounced, full of throaty growls and rumbling purrs.
Mama was inside making supper, one of Papa’s favorite lamb stews and Titi’s least favorite—beetroot salad.
Mama always made the food Papa liked best. Titi caught on pretty quickly that Papa sometimes pretended to like foods Titi liked just so Mama would make them.
It was their little secret. One of many. Conveyed across the worn wood table through winks and mischievous grins.
Titi loved Papa lots and lots. And he loved her so much she never really felt the lack of affection from Mama. It would have been nice if Mama loved her too.
Perhaps she did, in her own quiet, solemn way. But Titi never saw demonstrations or heard word of it. Mama was very “reserved,” Papa always said.
Even so, tha
t didn’t prevent Titi from feeling Mama’s love for Papa. It was a visceral thing. A little frightening, if Titi was honest. Suffocating.
But Papa didn’t seem to mind.
Just when Papa rounded the corner from the back garden to surprise Titi from behind, back in his Pure One form, the sound of approaching hoofbeats and grinding wheels made both of them pause in their antics.
Four black-robed warriors astride four identical black stallions led the unmarked caravan that trundled down the dirt road near their hut.
It was one of two roads that wound from the nearby village to the bustling city that surrounded the Ivory Palace, but few travelers and merchants used this road. It was narrow and filled with ruts and stones. Many a horse had lost its shoe, and many a wagon had stuck its wheel in this unpaved, backwoods path.
Titi had certainly never seen anything as fine as the caravan that was passing through. The horses looked like they walked on air; their riders, moving as one with their steeds. Big chests puffed out, backs straight, shoulders broad.
Papa swung Titi into his arms, setting her on his hip.
This surprised her, because Mama didn’t like it when he held her like a baby any more. She always admonished that he was coddling her, and he’d done it less and less. At least not right in front of their open window, where Mama could look out and see.
The vibrating tension in Papa’s body made Titi afraid, so she wound her arms tightly around his neck, squeezing him close.
He seemed riveted by one of the other riders. Also dressed all in black. Titi could see that it was a female, her long, dark hair cascading in waves down her back.
She was turned toward them. Piercing them with glowing, amber eyes.
No, not them. She was only looking at Papa.
Titi put her hand on Papa’s jaw to turn his face away from the frighteningly beautiful female.
Don’t look at her, Titi wanted to say. She’s bad.
Suddenly, the procession stopped altogether. Right in front of Titi’s home. The four warriors in the front of the line dismounted and came toward them like menacing shadows. Two of them unsheathed gleaming swords. The other two just kept on advancing as if nothing could stand in their way.
Titi held onto Papa tighter, well and truly terrified by now.
Before she could comprehend what happened, one of them pulled her forcibly away from Papa.
She kicked and screamed and beat her fists and tried to bite her captor.
All the while, Papa only stood there, staring at her struggles with fury and despair blazing in his eyes. The edges of his body shimmered with the magic of his shift, but the powerful leopard never took hold. For some reason, he was suppressing his beast.
Suddenly, Mama was there too, held captive by another soldier, her mouth opened to scream, but no sound came out.
Titi didn’t stop fighting, despite the thick, muscular arms that tightened around her chest, squeezing the air out of her body. She thrashed and wriggled, able to knock a small fist into her captor’s jugular.
He lost his patience then and caught her spindly arm in his iron grip, squeezing brutally until her bone snapped like a twig.
Titi couldn’t even shout at the blinding pain, merely huffing a whimper as grape-sized tears of terror and frustration plopped down her cheeks.
Papa bared his teeth at the soldier who trapped her, a ferocious growl rumbling through his chest.
It all happened so quickly. No more than the blink of an eye.
The black-robed woman spoke to Papa in low tones, so quietly, Titi couldn’t hear. But Papa could. He was a leopard, after all. His senses were far keener than hers and Mama’s.
He forced his gaze away from Titi and Mama to stare back at the woman who seemed to hold their fates in the palm of her hand. He listened in silence. Chest heaving, hairs bristling.
Mama stared at their exchange in awe-filled horror, mouth slack, eyes round and pitch black.
And then, the worst thing happened.
Papa went away.
He strode toward the caravan and swung atop the woman’s horse, right behind her. He didn’t look at Mama and Titi again. Nor did the woman. In fact, she hadn’t looked at them even once the entire time.
She only had eyes for Papa.
Without another word, the woman spurred her steed into a gallop, riding away with Papa in the direction of the Ivory Palace.
What happened after that was a blur. Titi didn’t really recall.
She just knew that it would be the last time she ever saw her beloved Papa.
*** *** *** ***
“Weak…so weak…”
Mama was mumbling to herself again, making Titi worried.
It had been a fortnight since Papa was…taken away.
In that time, Mama hadn’t slept, had barely eaten, no matter what Titi tried to do to shake her loose of the debilitating gloom.
Titi’s arm had healed by now, thankfully straight, though Titi had to wrap it herself, trying to recall what Mama did whenever she set broken bones. Pure Ones healed many times faster than humans, a source of their immortality. But bones could still grow back crooked; skin and flesh could still scar if not treated properly. And, of course, there were some mortal wounds that even fast healing couldn’t recover from.
At least Titi only had a broken arm. She was as good as new now, even if she was perpetually hungry, since Mama didn’t bother to cook any more.
Shouldn’t they be making plans to get Papa back?
It looked like the strangers had gone in the direction of the Ivory Palace. Perhaps they could beseech the Dark Queen Ashlu for help.
Even though Titi was a youngling still, she knew enough to comprehend the indisputable dominance of Dark Ones who ruled over this empire. Mama, Papa, and Titi too, belonged to one of the Dark noble houses, after all.
They were mostly left alone, allowed to live in their own hut on the outskirts of the nobles’ vast property, for Papa needed to be close to the wooded mountains to hunt, and Mama was the healer for three different villages.
The Dark Queen was the most powerful of all, wasn’t she? Titi had only heard of her beauty, ruthlessness, but also fairness to a certain degree. Her laws kept Pure Ones and humans safe; vampire rogues who broke them were severely punished, even killed.
Surely, if Titi and Mama went to her and plead their case, she would help them find Papa and bring him back?
Why wouldn’t Mama move? Why did she simply sit there and stare unblinkingly at nothing at all?
“Filthy…he must be full of her filth by now…polluted…no longer pure…no longer mine…”
Mama kept rambling to herself, saying things that didn’t make sense.
Sometimes, Titi caught ugly words she didn’t fully understand. She only knew that they were cruel, that Papa’s heart would break to hear Mama say them.
Words like “whore,” “blood slave,” “rape.”
Titi covered her ears whenever Mama went on a rant, spitting awfulness like a snake hissing poison.
Why did she simply sit there and stare? Why wouldn’t she do something?
Titi brought her food and water. She didn’t know how to cook, not as well as Mama, but she knew how to boil eggs, dig up carrots and collect berries.
“Mama,” she tried again, sitting as close to Mama as she dared. “What will we do now? When can we go find Papa?”
They didn’t have a horse, or even a lame-footed donkey. The Ivory Palace could be seen, glowing white on top of the distant mountain, surrounded by towering walls. Titi would have made the trek on foot herself, but she didn’t want to leave Mama.
Mama was…broken. There was no other word for it.
And even though Titi intuitively knew it was a lost cause, she wanted to fix her. She couldn’t abandon her.
Tentatively, she leaned her head lightly on Mama’s boney shoulder. She seemed so frail, her body no better than an empty husk.
“I wish I could have loved you more,” Mama murmured.
“If you took after him, perhaps I would have.”
Was Mama talking about Titi? This was so rare that Titi held her breath as she hung on Mama’s every word.
“But you are only half him. Half me. I do not love the other half. I hate it. So weak…”
Titi’s heart pounded with hurt and fear.
“I wasn’t always like this,” Mama continued, lost in her own thoughts. “There was a time when I used to be the most powerful of all. Only one other rivaled my strength. We existed in harmony; we weren’t enemies. Until we were.”
“And now look at me. I can’t even hold on to my Mate. Defeated by a lowly vampire queen. Trapped in this worthless, powerless shell…”
Titi eased away from Mama’s shoulder.
She was frightening her. What was she talking about? Titi didn’t understand anything.
Suddenly, Mama looked her full in the face, spearing her with those bottomless black eyes, glowing red at the centers.
“Be stronger than me, little girl. Either have no weakness or be powerful enough to defend it. I have nothing left to give you but these words.”
With that, she stood and walked out of the hut, going on one of her many walkabouts, Titi thought. Sometimes it took hours, sometimes most of a day. But she always came back.
And she did, that night.
Titi felt Mama’s fingertips in her hair, like the touch of a phantom they were so light.
“Be like him, Ninti,” Titi heard in her dreams.
“Live in the light. Stay away from the ravaging darkness. It will consume and destroy you.”
The brush of a knuckle against her cheek.
“Like it did me.”
And this time, when Mama left, she never came back.
Chapter Fifteen
“You’re in your birthday suits, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I can’t see anything naughty. I’m used to covering my eyes in the morning when I’m at home with Mom and Dad.”
Sophia came awake slowly to the sleep-muffled sounds of Benji’s voice.
She didn’t want to open her eyes. She was so comfortable and toasty, even though her body was sore all over, and the ground beneath her was deplorably lumpy.
