Fate's Fools Box Set

by Bell, Ophelia

  Only once we got to the gates, we learned our mistake. Deva couldn’t enter without a soul. So I had to give her one.

  It shouldn’t have been so easy for me. I’d watched Deva grow from infancy to the full bloom of womanhood in a matter of hours. She’d been fully grown when I’d shared my soul with her, and yet I couldn’t shake that vision of her as a young girl, eyes filled with pain as she begged me to sing to distract her from the agony of her body’s too-swift growth and transformation. I would have done anything for her, and I followed through on that vow when we reached the realm of the gods, negotiating with them for entry on the condition that I sacrifice a piece of my soul to her the second we were inside.

  I knew what it meant. Fate’s curse of my kind had tied my soul to another—someone I had yet to find after more than two centuries of searching. If I gave Deva a piece of my soul, I would break the unconsummated bond to my One, and Deva would become my soul mate. Only more recently I had learned that if Fate ever discovered my insult, it would mean death for me, or Deva, or both of us. Probably me . . . I wasn’t immortal. But even though Deva was, technically, I wasn’t sure I trusted that Fate didn’t have methods to end her life somehow, if not make it unbearably miserable. Being mortal didn’t sound so bad with those prospects.

  The revelation that giving Deva a complete soul required gifts from all four of the other races only eased my mind a little. She had a turul soul, and some of the power that it provided, if not all of it. More than I imagined she would have, honestly. Without being fully mated to me, she would likely never be able to shift into a turul’s wild shape, but with the wings of a dragon, why would she ever want to become a falcon?

  Somehow I would make sure she received all the others. She likely had Keagan already—perhaps Bodhi too. I would have to find a way for her to accept Llyr again without giving up the truth to her. Once she was whole, maybe I could tell her the truth and she’d be satisfied with the four mates she had, and that longing I always saw when she looked at me would disappear. I doubted I would ever stop wanting her though, not as long as she carried a piece of my soul.

  A touch at my temple made me jerk, my eyes flying open. Llyr stood over me, then slowly crouched beside my bed, moving his hand to rest on my shoulder. “I’d like to hate you for what you’ve done, whatever it was, except I know you did it to protect her and for that I will always be in your debt.”

  I glared at him and rolled over. “Get out of my fucking head.”

  “I couldn’t see details. You’ve been dwelling on a particular incident so hard the last two days it’s impossible not to pick up impressions. At least enough for me to put together a vague picture. I would have done the same in your place, even given the risks you took.”

  Impressions? Did his impressions extend to the incident itself? The night I’d spent with her and how goddamn perfect she’d been? My sleep-deprived brain was stuck on a constant loop, and my dick was hard again and didn’t seem to be subsiding.

  He gripped my shoulder again and I tensed, then turned onto my back, ready to shoot another scathing insult at him, yet unable to find the anger within me anymore. I was just tired and fucking lonely and my balls ached like I couldn’t believe. When I met his gaze, it was with a sense of resignation. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted if it got her out of my head.

  His features shimmered as if he were about to shift. “Don’t. I don’t want to see her.” I moved over about a foot, taking my pillows with me as I offered him the other side of the bed.

  Llyr eyed the space with a twitch of his brow, his mouth quirking at the pile of pillows beneath my head and the relative absence right beside me. He settled on the bed with his back against my headboard, legs stretched out in front of him.

  “You should sleep,” he said, glancing down at me. “She said they’re driving back in the morning, yeah? So there’s nothing to do but wait. Sleep will fill the time best after the last two days.”

  “I’d like to, but I can’t seem to turn off my goddamn brain,” I griped. “I’d jerk off if you didn’t seem so intent on hovering for some fucked up reason.” It was a lie—halfhearted, but still a lie. I hadn’t been able to properly jerk off for over a year.

  He snorted and looked at me. “Did you not just invite me to share your bed? I get that I apparently haven’t earned a pillow yet, but don’t you think this might send mixed signals?” He gestured down my naked length.

  “You didn’t need a fucking invitation the first time you sucked me off, dude. Why should now be any different?”

  He sighed heavily and slid down to lie flat on his back, hands beneath his head. “I didn’t trust you then. Now I do. So if I do it, it’ll be about giving you pleasure, not protecting her, and I won’t initiate unless you’re willing. If you want a blowjob, all you have to do is ask.” The subtle humor in his voice made me cringe.

  “I’m not . . . It isn’t about . . .” I faltered and exhaled sharply, trying to find the words to express my humiliating desperation, then just gave up.

  “You could just take care of yourself like you said,” he suggested, turning his head to glance at me, his voice a deep, suggestive purr. “Don’t let me stop you.”

  I wrapped a hand around my hard dick and gave it a few tugs. True to form it softened, my own touch destroying my arousal. I dropped my hand back to the bed and sighed. “That’s the thing. I can’t. As much as I want to, my own hand is just too fucking familiar. I don’t want to think about it. It was easier when you took that choice away from me.”

  He turned onto his side, his impossibly beautiful face inches from mine. I shifted away slightly, so I could turn and meet his gaze without instantly falling into a kiss.

  “You don’t like the idea of enjoying sex with another man, yet you’re lit up with need right now. I can feel it in the faint connection we still have from the other day. You know I can make you forget . . . ease the tension then wipe the memory from your mind.” He gave me a sardonic smirk. “It’d be appropriate, under the circumstances. A kind of balance, if you will, especially if you let me fuck you. Or, like you suggested, I could force you . . . seduce you and take the choice away, then make you forget you never had a choice at all.”

  His tone had grown chilly by the end, the subtle insinuation making my skin prickle. “What the fuck are you saying?”

  “You made her forget. What, exactly did you make her forget, Oz? How she never had a choice despite your altruistic intentions? Would she have rather become a puppet than submit to you and now you’re simply guilt-ridden over forcing a soul bond where one never should have been?”

  The chilly prickle flared into hot rage, propelling me at him. I bared my teeth and swung my fist at his face. He didn’t stop me this time and my knuckles connected with his nose, cartilage crunching under the impact. I didn’t stop there.

  “I would never fucking rape her, you fuck!” My knuckles connected with his jaw next, his head twisting to the side under the impact. Abstractly I registered he’d spread his arms out to the side and was simply lying there like some martyred messiah, letting me whale on him. I kept going, switching hands and punching him in the mouth. His teeth cut my knuckles but the pain was lost to the fiery heat of anger that had been unleashed by his accusation. His lip had split which gave me some satisfaction, as did the splatter of his blood across my white sheets when I slammed my fist into him from the other side, making his head twist hard toward my windows.

  His utter lack of response inflamed me more, and I grabbed his shoulders, shaking him. “Fight me goddamn you!”

  He only gave me a bloody grin, his aqua eyes bright and clear and still, as if the pain I’d caused had simply cleared everything up for him. “She initiated, didn’t she? As she did with me, despite her belief that she was a virgin then, too.”

  An image flashed through my mind of my first night with her, our first kiss as vivid as ever, the memory was a knife in my chest, buried deep and twisting. I stared down at the swollen, bloodied mou
th in front of me, remembering his offer, even though it’d been made to incite my fury. I would take it, but on my terms.

  I tangled my fingers in his hair and yanked his head back. His neck and jaw were an expanse of flawless olive skin, his pulse jumping quick in the artery below his ear. A low chuckle rumbled up, his chest vibrating.

  “Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” he said. But I was a year past caring about regrets. What was one more added to the pile?

  “You’re too fucking pretty,” I snarled.

  He laughed, his shining teeth coated with blood from his lip. His tongue slipped across them, then darted out to probe at the cut. “You’ve been dying to remedy that for a week. Am I sufficiently disfigured yet?”

  “No.” I swung at him again, my goal to shut him up. My hand connected with teeth once more, but the fucker’s bones were too strong to break and only left my knuckles bleeding more profusely and smearing across his already blood-covered mouth in the process.

  “Careful,” he said, slowly turning back to look at me. He slurred a little and pressed his tongue against his upper teeth. I saw it was bleeding too—he must have bitten it at some point.

  “Careful or what? I might make you too ugly to have a chance with her?” I punched him again, the satisfaction of seeing his head snap to the side and his blood splatter becoming addictive. He made it too easy to want to keep going, too easy to enjoy despite the fact that he didn’t fight back. Or because of it. I had a strange sinking feeling that he was manipulating me again, even though his eyes hadn’t done their hypnotic swirl.

  “Don’t fucking get into my head, asshole, you hear me?” I yanked his head back again, glaring down at him. His throat worked with a tight swallow but his gaze was still clear and he shook his head.

  “This is all you. Careful you don’t hit the point of no return.”

  “Afraid you can’t take it?”

  “Oh, I fucking crave it, Oz. Just as much as you do, deep down. Hit me again. Please.”

  My brow twitched in confusion at the utter sincerity in his request. He liked this?

  Hell, I liked this. My dick was harder than ever, the ache in my balls so acute it bordered on painful. I became instantly aware of his supine body beneath mine, submissive and pleading. Like I could only give him relief by inflicting pain. As if he deserved the pain I inflicted, not as punishment, but reward.

  Except that was all wrong. This was all wrong. I was the one who deserved the pain, the agony of having my heart ripped out every time I set eyes on the woman my soul was irrevocably bound to, whom I could not have. But more pain wouldn’t let me forget. It would only add to it.

  Staring into his pleading gaze, I knew what needed to happen.

  “Bad idea,” Llyr said when I dipped my head toward his, eyes fixed on his bloodied lips. His hands shot up and grabbed the sides of my head, holding me just shy of kissing him.

  “Bullshit. This is the best idea I’ve had and you know it.” I gripped his hands and tore them away from my head, pressing them back down to the bed. Then I kissed him, capturing those swollen lips that had so enraged me for all the taunts that had crossed them and for all the truths he’d spoken without knowing. If I couldn’t shut him up with my fists, I’d find another way. Only a vague part of me still harbored that altruistic intent he’d mentioned.

  He needed this as much as I did.

  His blood was tangy on my tongue, his lips hot and soft at first, pliant cushions that reminded me too much of Deva’s for their fullness. At least until he responded with a harsh groan and kissed me back with a vengeance, head raising and mouth opening. His tongue shot out, past my lips to slide against mine, carrying the strange sweetness of his blood with it.

  The rush of sensation in my lips provoked me into deepening the kiss, sucking on his split lip and enjoying his hiss of pain before he returned the favor, grabbing my head and sliding his fingers into my hair. He pulled me tighter this time, sucking my lower lip into his mouth and biting hard.

  My dick pulsed with the perfect spike of pain. Fuck yes, this was what we needed. Not a fucking nap or a useless talk.

  He surged up, his mouth still latched on mine, my throbbing lip the perfect distraction from the piercing memories that had haunted me all morning. He dropped one hand between us, grabbed my dick and squeezed. I groaned into his mouth, slanting my lips the other way while I yanked up his shirt. We parted just long enough to get it off and then I pushed him pack down to the bed.

  His face still angered me, but I was beyond punching him. The desperation in his eyes was enough of a reward. I slid backward on his thighs and tilted my chin up. “Unbutton your jeans and roll over.”

  His amusement irked me and I nearly took matters into my own hands when he slid his hands down his tight, ripped stomach and seductively unbuttoned his borrowed jeans. His cock pushed out as though propelled by its own power. I rose up on my knees and he obligingly rolled onto his belly, giving me a sly look over his shoulder.

  “So this is what you need, to be on top, huh?”

  “Don’t fucking talk to me,” I said, grabbing the waistband of his jeans and yanking them down over his ass. From this angle I could almost pretend he didn’t have a dick, but I didn’t want to have any illusions about who I was about to fuck. I pulled his jeans down farther, slipping backward until I got them off his feet.

  “Down,” I said, pressing on his hips when he lifted his ass as if offering it to me. I pushed my hand between his thighs and cupped his balls, squeezing until he grunted and his ass flexed. Grabbing one tight cheek, I spread him and spit onto the tight bud of his hole, then spread my saliva around with my thumb before positioning my cock between his cheeks. I was sure Keagan or Rohan had lube in their rooms somewhere, but I didn’t want to make this easy for the bastard underneath me.

  “Fuck yes, make it hurt,” he shot over his shoulder. I tilted over his back and rammed in. His tight hole spread open, taking me to the hilt. My own asshole tingled as though something had penetrated me, and the confusion of sensations spurred me on. I pressed against his back, digging my teeth into his shoulder as I fucked him relentlessly, pounding hard.

  A combination of rage and desperate need spurred me on and I rose up, slipping my knees between his thighs and spreading him wide. He rose up on hands and knees without prompting and pushed back against me, grunting and hanging his head with each swift, brutal smack of my hips against his ass.

  By the fucking Winds, sex had never felt like this. Something inside me flared with pleasure each time I slammed my cock into him. There was no pain, and I hadn’t once heard him cry out as if he’d felt any either. His big torso heated beneath my hands and I bent over him, grabbing onto his bunched shoulders for leverage to fuck him harder.

  “Harder,” he snarled over his shoulder, his eyes flashing with both challenge and desire. I grunted and bent lower, grabbing both his shoulders as I rammed over and over into his ass, pure pleasure gipping my entire body from deep inside outward until there was nothing but the harsh sounds of smacking flesh and deep grunts. I couldn’t tell which sounds came from him or me.

  My balls smacked repeatedly against his between our thighs and I hissed with the sharp spike of pleasure when he gripped both swinging sacs and squeezed us together. Then the slick sound of his fist sliding rapidly against his cock hit my ears and my own cock surged and swelled in his ass. He clenched around me and groaned as his climax took him and mine followed almost instantly

  I reared back and tilted my head to the ceiling, letting out a yell that reverberated in my ears as my semen shot into him. His ass spasmed around me, seeming to milk me dry though I knew it was his own powerful orgasm pulling those spasms from him.

  My shoulders and head dropped and my hands rested limp against his ass. “Fucking hell,” I muttered in abject wonder at the remaining buzz of warmth that lingered in my lower torso even as my dick went soft inside him.

  I eased out of him and I collapsed to the side, head hitting my
pillows and sleep consuming me instantly.

  17

  Llyr

  The absence of thoughts of Deva was short-lived, though I was grateful for the distraction Ozzie had provided. He’d sleep soundly and dream-free until morning at least, but sleep was something I hadn’t cared for since my rescue from the Ultiori just before the war. After spending thousands of years in a state of suspended animation, I had gotten my fill of sleep. Anytime I tried since, those old nightmarish landscapes I’d existed in for so long returned.

  I wanted life, the real world, and angry, filthy hate sex with the only man who could convince Deva that I was worthy of her love.

  Once Ozzie started snoring softly, I rose, wincing slightly at the tenderness he’d left me with. I hadn’t been fucked that roughly and with that much emotion in an eon. I’d fucking loved it, though I highly doubted he’d be down for a repeat anytime soon, if ever.

  I would never forget it, though, and knew he wouldn’t either. Particularly not when he woke and I told him what else we’d done without meaning to.

  I took a deep breath as I stood over him, contemplating his hawk-like profile and his sun-gilded hair. He wasn’t like the others. Turul were odd that way. They were the most human-looking of all the higher races, and this namesake of the West Wind looked the part with blue eyes and dark blond hair.

  His cock could rival any dragon’s though, at least in human form, as my ass could attest. I clenched my ass cheeks and my limp cock hardened a little at the soreness. I suppressed the urge to wake him and fulfill my exaggerated promise to take control. I’d have loved to fuck him every bit as roughly as he’d taken me, but he’d break under that amount of violence because I wouldn’t be able to do it without shifting and I’d yet to meet another man who could take me in my primal satyr form.

  Deva could, and had. The memory returned with a vengeance so hard I winced. I tugged a blanket up over Ozzie’s naked, sleeping shape, making sure he was fully covered, then wandered naked out the doors from his room onto the sun-drenched patio beyond. Goosebumps erupted over my body and I glanced back at the thermometer on the wall with a scowl. Eighty. Fucking frigid. But there was an easy remedy only a few yards away and I jogged toward it.