The Rising Page 10

  The strength of it, the foreignness of it so frightened her, in a panic, she bucked against his weight and started to fight him, for he was there, and she could not fight it.

  The unknown happening to her with Chu right there…right there…made her clumsy and inept, thus he quelled her struggles with laughable ease.

  But Serena could not dwell on that.

  It was overwhelming her, whatever “it” was.

  And she feared she could not defeat it.

  “Let it go,” Chu whispered in her ear right before she shoved her face in his throat and an excruciatingly painful sob wracked her entire body.

  She was crying.

  She had not cried in…

  Goddess, even as a little girl, she did not cry.

  With a hand cupping the back of her head, keeping her face against his skin, his other arm curled around her and he slid to the side, holding her tight to him as she wept.

  And wept.

  And wept.

  Through her tears, she heard the tent flap open and she tensed.

  But she needn’t have worried.

  Chu adjusted, hiding her with his big body, even as she felt his neck twist to look to the opening.

  “She mourns,” he murmured.

  “I’ll come back,” Serena heard Elena say softly. “Erm, thank you for, um, seeing to her,” she finished awkwardly.

  Chu made no reply.

  Serena only knew Elena had retreated when he settled at her side and started stroking her back.

  When she had a handle on her tears—not a firm one, but a handle—Chu said tenderly, “Your mother was proud of you.”

  “I gave her no reason.”

  “I am of the understanding there was many a battle she sent you to win to keep your people safe, and you rarely failed her, or your people.”

  Well, there was that.

  “Do you lament not being named queen?” he asked.

  She tipped her head back to look up at him. “I have no patience for foolishness, stupidity or weakness. I also do not like my time wasted. I’d make a terrible queen.”

  His lips quirked.

  “I lament she died disappointed in me.”

  “You simply lament, Serena, that she died.”

  She pressed her lips tightly together, for he was correct.

  The air did not feel right, knowing her mother was not somewhere, breathing it.

  He took his arm from around her to run his fingers along her jaw.

  And doing thus, he murmured, “I have missed you.”

  She tucked her face back in his throat.

  “Pride,” he said over her head, his fingers gliding down her neck, over her shoulder, down her back, and he was holding her again. “It was torture, knowing you worked the Shanty without me at your side. I worried for you, day to day, hour to hour, minute to minute, held back from returning to you by my pride.” She felt his lips at her hair. “We must be aware of this, my maiden warrior. We both have much of it so we must guard against giving in to our pride.”

  “As you know, I am no maiden.”

  “Thank all the gods.”

  She found to her surprise she was grinning at his throat.

  “I quite like hellcat,” she muttered.

  His humor was not audible, but his body shook with it.

  Serena closed her eyes tight and took a chance telling him something that made her vulnerable, but that he should know.

  “She would have liked you. She would have found you most interesting. She would have enjoyed listening to the fables you carried to this land from your own. She would have admired your beauty and your skills. She would have…she would have been pleased for me with you.”

  “She was a great ruler and a good mother so I would have liked her too.”

  At his reaction, Serena took another chance with something that made her even more vulnerable, but he definitely should know.

  “I would have liked to give you a good mother.”

  Chu’s reaction to that was to squeeze the breath out of her with his arms.

  She allowed this and it lasted long, almost to the point her need for air meant she could no longer allow it, before he relaxed and replied, “I will take her through your sharing of memories.”

  Serena turned her head to press her cheek to the base of his throat.

  “Serena?” he called.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Thank you for forgiving me.”

  And she closed her eyes yet again.

  Her reply, “And thank you, Chu, for forgiving me.”

  He shifted in order for his lips to find her forehead, where he pressed a kiss.

  He then settled them, front to front, in each other’s arms, on her pallet, and he fell silent.

  Thus, Serena meditated in preparation for a rite in a way altogether new to her.

  And in doing it, regardless of all the uncertainty, hostility and mayhem that swirled about four realms, she experienced the most beautiful time of her life.

  Suspended in quiet mourning.

  With Chu at her side.

  Queen Elena

  Beside the Double Pyres, Northeast Border

  THE ENCHANTMENTS

  It made it a might bit easier this time, for Cassius now knew the ritual, and his part in it, so he took the decision to stand behind me, his arms around me at my chest, his chin resting on my shoulder, as we watched.

  And the support he offered, both emotional and physical, was heartening.

  Though what was not easier, witnessing Mac, with Hera standing at his side, her hand clasping his tight, as he stood beside Jasmine’s body, gazing down at her, sorrow and regret for times that would never be shared, words that would never be uttered, love lost that ended too soon suffusing his handsome features.

  Having already had our moments with her, along with myself, Jasmine’s mother and two blood sisters watched him as did hundreds of Nadirii.

  “I would…” His voice was croaky, he cleared it, looked down to Hera at his side then over his shoulder at me. “With respect, I would like to expose her face.”

  I clenched my teeth against my own emotion, looked to Jasmine’s mother, who gave her assent with a nod, and thus I gave the same to Macrinus.

  Hera let his hand go so he could reach to Jazz and expose her features.

  She looked asleep.

  So beautiful, my friend was so beautiful.

  And seeing her visage again, my frame reared gently with the effort it took to hold back my sob.

  Feeling it, Cass, my prince, held tight.

  It was then I felt a new presence come to stand at my side.

  I turned my head and saw Serena there.

  She was close.

  Very close.

  But she did not touch me, nor did she look at me.

  “You were bloody minded.”

  Mac’s voice regained my attention at the pyre.

  “So bloody minded, I would have died for you, but no. You wouldn’t allow that. Instead, you did it for me.”

  I again clenched my teeth.

  “And you were hilarious. It was almost as fun to fight with you as it was to make love with you,” he carried on.

  I watched as his ear dipped to his shoulder, his neck twisting, before he righted his head.

  “Almost,” he whispered.

  I swallowed.

  “We would have made beautiful children,” he said.

  I closed my eyes, forcing the tears to fall so I could see the sad beauty before me clearly, quickly reopening them so as not to miss another second of it.

  This because I needed it.

  I needed to know, before she was lost, my glorious friend had that kind of love.

  “Tonight, I will ink you into my skin and carry you with me,” he vowed. “Through my life. To my grave. And as I lie in my shroud and the earth reclaims me, you will be with me, until I am no more. One with the earth, becoming that, with you.”

  I took one hand from grasping the a
rms Cass had around me and reached to my sister.

  Part of me thought her fingers would not find mine, and I knew I would be fine with that, for that was Serena.

  But all of me felt profound gratitude when I was proved wrong and my sister’s fingers curled around mine, warm and sure.

  Thus, connected with two of the most important people in my life, we all watched another of those, Mac, lean in and touch his lips to Jasmine’s.

  He left her face unshrouded as he took Hera’s hand and guided her around to Rosehana.

  Without asking, Hera exposed Rose’s face, and without speaking, she gazed at it.

  And after long, solemn moments, she whispered, “Tonight, I will ink you into my skin, my little bug, my sweet warrior, and carry you with me,” she vowed. “Through my life. To my death. And until I am released into the veil, you will stay with me. And when I am no more, I will become that, with you.”

  I did not know Hera had made the decision to do this, and perhaps she had not.

  Perhaps she heard the beauty of Mac’s vow and decided to make it her own.

  It did not matter which way it was, I was pleased she intended to do this.

  For her.

  And for Rose.

  I squeezed Cass’s arm and Serena’s hands hard.

  They both squeezed back.

  Even Serena.

  Hera and Mac moved around Rose’s pyre toward Cass and me, joining the inner circle as Cass shifted to my side and took my hand and also Hera’s.

  I allowed Hera to begin the rite, and she did not delay in doing that.

  And when my beloved friends joined the veil, the damage done to our realm was repaired.

  They would like that.

  They would wish that.

  And I would give them that.

  For now.

  I sat on a mat beside the campfire, my eyes riveted to what was happening before me.

  Cassius, bare chested, his trousers partially undone and open, exposing the newly shaved area above his cock on which was a fresh mark that denoted me, my ownership of him, and thus…us.

  Also bare chested, with a new mark in the now I could not see for Hera’s position was hiding it, one that was over his heart, was Mac. He was on his arse, his legs spread, his knees bent, and between them, resting back against his chest, her own torso fully exposed, was Hera.

  Cassius was on his knees beside her, bent over her, inking Rose into her skin at her inside left breast.

  Hera had her head resting on Mac’s shoulder, his arms were about her, hands flat on her belly, and her chin was tipped down, watching Cass at work, as Mac’s chin was on her shoulder, and he was doing the same.

  I had not missed that they had found each other after their losses. Hera was not of that bent it would become more, but I felt there was great beauty that they would not mourn alone. They both had someone they could turn to who understood.

  They were, in a way both beautiful and sad, each other’s unicorns.

  “It is discomfiting to wonder why I so loathed these men for as long as I could cogitate,” Serena, sitting at my side, muttered her thoughts into mine.

  “Some of them are pretty magnificent,” I muttered in return.

  “This I see,” she replied. “And with the way our sisters are watching this ceremony, and Hera’s participation in it, I foresee ink spreading across The Enchantments.”

  It was my opinion this would not be bad.

  “I did not think there was anything good about that realm,” she admitted.

  “Perhaps we are not the sum of our parts,” I suggested.

  “Mm,” she hummed.

  “Though, if it makes you feel better, there are some of them who are significant arseholes,” I shared.

  I heard my sister chuckle, and I felt magic fill me at the hearing of that, wondering if that magic came from her to me, or if it came from Mum and Jasmine happy that she gave it to me.

  “Can I trust this, uh…Trusted?” I asked.

  “I…he is…that is, we…”

  At her struggle for words, something that was most unusual from her, I tore my eyes from the ceremony before me and looked to my sister.

  When I caught her gaze, she said, “I would race to the moon for him. And I would fall through the skies for eternity with him in my arms.”

  “Serena,” I whispered, stunned at the poetry of her words.

  “I know not how it happened, Elena,” she replied. “It just…did.”

  “It has a habit of doing that.”

  “It just did for you too, with Cassius?”

  I nodded but said, “Well, he sort of earned it.”

  “In Chu’s case, he sort of demanded it.”

  Demanded it?

  Of Serena?

  I raised my brows.

  “Do not ask how that happened either. It just…did,” she muttered

  I grinned at her.

  She stared at my mouth like she’d never seen such before, then, hesitantly, she gave it back.

  “You are incomplete.”

  Cassius’s announcement had us both looking back to the firelit ceremony.

  We had heard these words, and the ones we knew were to follow, before.

  Nero had said them to Cassius when he finished his ink, Cassius said them to Mac when he’d finished Mac’s, and now, her marks finished, Cassius would say them to Hera.

  “Your story continues,” he went on. “These marks honor your body. Your body honors these marks. You have taken the ink never to forget this part of your tale. You have taken the ink always to remember the importance of your life’s whole story. You have taken the ink to honor what it represents. You have taken the ink vowing to hold in reverence this story of your life throughout your life, to your death, to your pyre, until you become one with the veil. Honor these marks, Hera, for they honor you.”

  “I will, Cassius Laird,” Hera murmured.

  “To your death, to your pyre, until you become one with the veil?” he demanded, rather belatedly if you asked me. The deed was done. But who was I to say how they should conduct a centuries-old ritual?

  “To my death, to my pyre, until I become one with the veil,” Hera made her oath.

  “You are incomplete,” Cassius repeated. “And Hera,” he went on. “Regardless of the sorrow that taints this ceremony, rejoice in the beauty of that.”

  Rejoice in the beauty of that.

  I’d first heard Nero say that to Cassius some time ago after my man’s marks were done

  But I’d been so intent on the act of his marking me into his skin, I had not considered those words.

  Rejoice in the beauty of that.

  Rejoice in being incomplete.

  Rose was complete.

  Jazz was complete.

  My mother was complete.

  I was incomplete.

  And regardless of the sorrow that had settled in my soul.

  I had more story to tell.

  And I rejoiced in that.

  “I will, Cass,” Hera whispered.

  Cassius smiled at her then set his instruments aside for someone to clean up and pushed back on his feet.

  I lost track of most everything as I watched his hips swaying, his opened trousers moving with them, as he made his way to me.

  Indeed, his movements mesmerized me to the point I also missed Chu joining us by dropping behind Serena and surrounding her with his body.

  I vaguely noted acute attention to this act coming from all around, but only vaguely as Cass, and his opened trousers, was crouching in front of me.

  I forced my eyes up to his.

  “Please tell me after taking that mark where you took that mark that you’re not out of commission,” I begged.

  And at my words, I received my second wolfish grin of that day from my prince.

  “Absolutely not,” he told me.

  “And please tell me your gnome friends do not share a tent with you,” I heard Chu murmur at my side.

  “Absolutely not,”
I also heard Serena reply.

  I pushed up, reaching out my hand to grab Cass’s to pull him up with me, announcing, “Time for bed.”

  Cass chuckled.

  I looked down at my sister who did not look entirely comfortable resting against Chu in the nest of his body, doing so for all eyes to see.

  But she also didn’t look like she intended to move anytime soon.

  “Until the morrow,” I bid.

  “Until the morrow, sister,” she replied.

  I shifted my gaze to Chu. “We haven’t officially met. In truth, it is unnecessary, for I know you, and you know me. That done, I will now share, if you hurt her again, I will crush you.”

  Chu simply smiled.

  Cass got close to my back and said in my ear, “Let us go, lioness.”

  His words raced down my spine and detonated somewhere pleasant.

  I gave Chu a strong look, my sister a goodnight look, then we moved to Hera and Mac whereupon I embraced both my friends, Cass clasped Mac on the shoulder and embraced Hera.

  And finally, we made our way to our tent.

  Another day not quite done, but close to it.

  In a life that was joyously incomplete.

  129

  The Vengeance

  Lord Johan Mattson

  McGarrity’s Teahouse (a Brothel), The Arbor

  WODELL

  He liked the addition of the looking glass in this particular chamber.

  Very much so.

  And he studied himself in it, thinking he was still most virile and fit, before he felt a movement below him that took his attention from himself down to the body prostrated on its knees before him.

  Oh yes.

  That was what he was doing.

  He liked that arse. It was curved and generous, the skin smooth and creamy.

  Pegeen had always been his favorite.

  He had no issue with the other two.

  But he only used them when he wished some diversity of diet.

  He grasped onto that ass, thrusting in her cunt, and then he smacked a cheek.

  “Who’s my whore?” he demanded.

  “I am, milord,” she replied, and he did not like the way her words sounded.