Blood Feast: A Fantasy Romance

The Heart of the Lustra

Lio let the veilsin his mind fall slowly. The specters stirred.

Cassia’s presence rushed into their bond, drowning out all else. Don’t ever shut me out like that again.

Her anger was so beautiful. Even her worry was comforting.

Lyros snickered. “You have that newly-avowed look on your face.”

“I’ve been such a fool.” Lio shut his eyes and tilted his head back against the wall, savoring Cassia’s emotions. He shouldn’t enjoy the burn of her Craving, but a base part of him did. Her hunger for him felt so good.

Where are you? she demanded.

With Lyros.

Now her surprise flashed through their bond. You turned yourself in?

No. Neither did he. We want to talk with you and Mak about what we should do next. That’s all we ask. That we decide as a circle.

Her relief warmed him from head to toe. I found Mak, and we have your weapons for you.

Lio opened his eyes, a smile spreading across his face. “It sounds like Mak and Cassia reexamined a few decisions, too.”

“He’s with her?” Now Lyros sounded like the one who was starving.

Lio frowned in concern. “Mak didn’t tell you?”

Lyros looked away. “He may not be a mind mage, but he can be more stubborn than anyone about keeping his thoughts blocked. I hurt him.”

“He hurt you, too.”

“That doesn’t matter now. Where are they?”

No sooner had Lio thought the question than Cassia envisioned where she was.

Lio hesitated. Are you sure that’s a good idea?

I can keep us safe here.

“They want us to meet them at Paradum.” Lio offered Lyros a hand and a levitation spell.

His face strained, Lyros let Lio help him up. “Let’s hope this goes better than last time.”

Focusing on their Graces’ auras, Lio stepped them both with his magic.

The Blood Moon shone on Cassia’s garden. The scene of their nightmares had become a dream. Her black roses had taken over the ground and walls, and the earth was full of her blood magic. She was waiting for him, his newgift, who had transformed here in his arms.

Beside her, Mak started toward Lyros.

Lyros held up a hand. “I’m all right.”

“He’s not,” Lio said. “He has magefire in his veins.”

Cassia gasped. “How bad is it?”

Lio didn’t have an answer. Mak didn’t wait for one before he scooped Lyros up in his arms. He gave his Grace one look, and Lyros didn’t protest the bridal carry. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Mak’s neck.

Cassia motioned for them to follow her. “Bring him inside.”

Lio would have followed that freckled hand anywhere. Her magic pulsed, and the ground at her feet parted to reveal a stairway. Mak hurried down with Lyros.

“There are portals here?” Realization sent gooseflesh across Lio’s skin. “This is a node.”

Cassia nodded, and there was hope in her aura.

Lio hesitated in front of her. He gripped his scroll case to keep from touching her.

Her gaze dropped to Dame. “You saved her.”

“You might say she saved me.”

Hesitating behind Lio, Dame cocked her head at Knight, her ears perked. He sniffed in her direction and wagged his tail.

Cassia led them inside the portal, where steps spiraled around the wall of a deep, narrow cavern. They walked down with the dogs and joined Mak and Lyros by an underground stream. Spell-lit torches lined the bank, casting their shadows across the ferns that grew by the water. Archways inscribed with runes led away into darkness.

Mak laid Lyros down on the thick carpet of plants. Lio had never seen his cousin like this, silent and pale. He gave Lyros’s wound a rapid examination before holding out his wrist.

Lyros struggled to a sitting position. “I won’t drink until we talk.”

“Bleeding thorns, Lyros!” Mak finally spoke. “You’re an hour away from dying and you want to talk?”

“I want to apologize.”

Mak shook his wrist at his Grace. “You think apologies matter to me right now? Drink!”

“Lyros,” Lio broke in, “now isn’t the time!”

Cassia glared at their wounded Trial brother. “What happened to ‘no abstinence over foolish differences of opinion’?”

“I need Mak to know I’m not angry about the weapons.”

Mak curled his hand into a fist. “You have every right to be. You told me not to do it, and when I was an idiot and didn’t listen, you supported me anyway. No one could ask more of his Grace than that.”

“Yes,” Lyros said. “You can. You can ask me to trust your decisions. Even about this.”

“I know you trust me. You always tell me I have the best intuition. But you’re the one with sense.”

“I’m wrong just as often as you are.”

Mak sat back. “That’s why you changed your mind about turning us in? You actually think I was right about the weapons?”

“I came back for the same reason I left. I was trying to do what would cause you the least pain.”

Mak’s face got ruddy, and his veils started to slip over his emotions. “Why in the Goddess’s name did you think I would hurt less if you got arrested for my crimes?”

“I felt your guilt at the temple. I saw everything you imagined that Miranda would do with the dagger you forged. You were torturing yourself. I would have done anything to make it stop. And the only way I could think of to put an end to this was to turn us in.”

Mak swallowed. “That was the stupidest strategy you’ve ever come up with. Watching you leave…that hurt.”

“Then why did you tell me to go? Twice?” The words seemed to jump out of Lyros, and then he rubbed his face, as if he regretted them.

By silent agreement, Lio and Cassia said nothing. If talking this through would get Lyros to accept the healing he needed, they didn’t dare interrupt.

Mak reached out and touched Lyros’s tangled hair. “You know I was just trying to protect you from the consequences of my actions. You’ve done everything the right way. You never wanted to revolutionize anything, and you didn’t need to in order to leave your mark on Orthros. Goddess, you’re the finest warrior the Stand has ever seen. After how hard you worked for your speires, I ruined everything for you by trying to prove something.”

“You think you have something to prove?” Lyros gave his head a shake. “Mak…you’re a natural. You were made for the Stand. All I ever wanted was to be as worthy of these speires as you.”

Mak’s mouth hung open. “That’s what you think?”

“I’ve felt that way since the first time you showed me how to throw a punch.”

“You’re always the one making me a better warrior. A better person.”

“‘The good influence who keeps Mak out of trouble.’” Lyros let out a humorless laugh. “I embraced that label from your parents. It made me feel…needed, I suppose. Like I brought something useful to the family.”

Mak stared at him. “You thought you had to be useful?”

“More useful than a thieving urchin and a delinquent artist. So I influenced you right out of your bravest ideas and kept you from breaking rules that needed to be broken. Because I was trying to prove something, too.”

Mak shoved his hands through his hair again. “You’re my Grace, and I didn’t know you felt this way. Goddess. It never occurred to me. It’s always been so obvious to me that you’re the best of us.”

“You’re hardly objective.”

Mak made a strangled noise of frustration. “Why do you think I keep that lump of clay in our residence?”

Lyros huffed. “So you can tease me about it.”

“Why do you think I love to tease you? It makes me happy every time I look at your horrible attempts at art. If you’d been a master artist, you wouldn’t have become a Steward with me.”

“I would have.”

“And then I’d feel guilty for pulling you away from something you were good at. But I didn’t. You were meant to become a warrior.”

Lyros smiled. “You were the good influence on me.”

“Then listen to me. You don’t have to prove anything. You’re worthy of your speires in your own right. But if you need another reason, you’re my Grace. You belong with me.”

Lyros pulled Mak closer. “Let me back into your hard head, and I think I’ll finally believe that.”

The tension in Mak eased. Lyros’s eyes unfocused, and he let out a sigh. His fangs unsheathed.

Over his shoulder, Mak motioned to Lio and Cassia and mouthed, I’ve got him.

Lyros would be all right. What he needed now was time with his Grace. As Mak’s veil spells fell over the cavern, Lio and Cassia slipped through one of the archways.

They followed the stream along a lengthy passageway. Now that they were alone, her Craving seemed to fill the space. But he didn’t reach for her yet. Dame stayed close to him, while Knight trotted ahead of Cassia.

They hadn’t gone far when Cassia halted. She turned to Lio, unsaid words rising and falling in her thoughts. This time, he didn’t push. He would wait as long as she needed him to.

Dame closed the distance between them, tiptoeing toward Cassia.

“Oh, hello, lovely lady,” Cassia crooned, extending a hand. “How glad I am to see you on your feet.”

After sniffing her for a moment, Dame licked her hand.

“Well, aren’t you a sweetheart?” Cassia held out her other hand to Knight. “Come meet Dame properly, darling. Barda acklii.”

Dame stayed where she was, cautious, But Knight trotted over to her, and soon they were circling each other, sniffing one another’s tails.

No aggressive posturing for pack dominance? Lio rubbed his temple. Either his blood had ruined Dame’s liegehound instincts, or she was the friendliest dog ever forced into war.

Knight bounded away, then halted, looking back over his shoulder at Dame. She took a step toward him, but didn’t leave Lio’s reach.

“How do I tell her she’s off duty?” he asked.

Cassia smiled. “Soor obett.”

Dame didn’t move. Lio patted her. “Go be a dog. Soor obett.”

When he said the words, his familiar dashed off for a game of chase with Knight. They raced and tussled along the side of the stream. A little bubble of light seemed to fill Lio’s chest, . His guilt snuffed it out.

Cassia held out her hand to him, a question in her eyes. His hand felt dirty. But if she wanted his touch, he would give it. He slid his hand in hers, and she held on tight.

She led him onward, moving with purpose. They wandered far, the dogs’ happy yips echoing after them. The deeper they went, the thicker her magic grew around them. When the passage opened into another cavern, Lio looked around them in astonishment.

“This is the heart of the letting site.” Cassia’s voice was hushed.

The stream ended in a pool that glittered under starry spell lights. The Lustra magic was so thick here that he felt like they were swimming in it. Every current that flowed around him pulsed with Cassia’s blood magic, immersing him in her dual power.

Some ancient hand had carved the inside of the cave into curving walls, graceful arches, and pillars like standing stones. Cracks marred the runes carved on every surface, and chunks of the megaliths had fallen to the ground. But everywhere this sacred place had almost collapsed, black roses now grew, filling and bracing the damage.

The sconces were blackened, as if they had once burned with magefire. Lio ran his fingers through the nearest spell light and started. “This is my magic.”

“You’re a part of this place now, too. Let me show you.”

Borne on the currents of magic and emotion swirling between them, Lio sank into their Union. Spells ran out from this place in countless veins, and Cassia was their heart. She guided his mind through the patterns to the threshold of the only door that still stood. Her blood and his light traced the runes on the portal.

He opened his eyes to find his arms around her, her mouth a hair’s breadth from his. He gazed down at her, more in awe of his Grace than ever. “You did it, Cassia. You healed the third door.”

She traced his brow, then his cheek. “My power can save us, just as you always believed. I’m the only one who has a hope of stopping Kallikrates. But I can’t do it without you.”

“Everything I have to give is yours, now and always. But I won’t push you ever again. I’m sorry I made this harder for you.”

She shook her head. “You weren’t pushing me. You were fighting for me. That’s what I needed.”

The weight of his sins lightened. He had made so many mistakes, but not this. He had still understood what his Grace needed.

She rested her face on his chest. “You were right. My fear almost cost me something even more important than my magic. My power. I spent my whole mortal life afraid to act because of what the king might do. It would be so much worse to sacrifice my power for eternity because of Kallikrates.”

“Then I will keep fighting for eternity.”

“Please. If it’s not too much to ask of you, keep fighting. Even when I stop fighting for myself. I was losing a part of myself because of my fear. Hold onto that part of me when it’s slipping from my grasp.”

He held her more tightly. “I’ll never let go, my Grace.”

She wrapped her arms around him. Despite his promise, he felt as if she were holding the pieces of him together.

“In the temple…” He had to take another breath to go on. “Thank you for stopping me.”

She stroked his back, saying nothing. He was glad she simply let him get his words out.

“You saved those men from what I would have done to them.”

“I did it to save you.”

“I know.” He pressed his face to her hair.

When she spoke again, her voice was thick. “I didn’t stop you soon enough to spare you this guilt. I’m so sorry.”

“The consequences are mine to carry.”

“No.” Her hands tightened on his back. “We carry everything together now. Promise me.”

When he didn’t reply, she looked up at him, her gaze fierce. “I will never judge you or be ashamed of you. Not after how you’ve accepted me. I’m here to bear your burdens with you and hold you while you heal.”

A sigh slipped out of him. “Goddess, what did I do to be blessed with you?”

“You loved me. Now let me love you. Promise me.”

He drew back from her just enough to reach his scroll case. He pried the dented lid off and pulled out what he’d been keeping inside the warded cylinder.

He presented their avowal cup to her for the second time.

She gasped. “You brought it with us?”

“I could leave everything else behind but this.” He wrapped both their hands around the cup. “You have all my promises.”

She bit her hand and squeezed her blood into the cup, then pressed it to his lips. He swallowed the fresh libation before it could cool. An echo of her power moved through him, and at the thirst that taste awoke, he groaned.

He opened his wrist for her over their chalice. She watched, her fangs unsheathing. Burying one hand in her hair, he poured his offering onto her tongue. She swallowed hard, his blood trailing from the side of her mouth.

A tremble in the ground made them grab each other for support. The pool roiled, and her roses trailed up their legs.

She cried out, her knees buckling. He caught her against him and held her up. Before he could ask her what was happening, power flooded their Union, showing him the patterns of her channeling.

Magic was churning up from the letting site, through her, and overflowing from their avowal cup in a pure, powerful flood.

The current pulled him in, washing through every part of him. Arousal slammed through him, and he groaned, pressing their bodies together.

She rose up to meet him and crushed her mouth to his. Their blended blood tasted of dark places and shining light.

Cassia, does this mean what I think it does? Our avowal cup is…

My third focus. Oh, Lio. It was here all along. You made it for me.

I crafted it from us.

Let me love you, she said again, trailing rough kisses down his throat.

He tilted his head back Yes.

She stripped his battle-stained robes off him. Finally the smell of fire cleared from his head, and the heavy sweetness of her roses reached him. Pulling her robes down off her shoulders, he licked her skin. The sharp, rich flavor of her hunger brought his fangs down. She tugged her clothes lower, and he chased her bare skin with his hands, running his palms over her breasts.

Fabric and leaves rustled as she slipped from his hold to kneel amid the roses. She reached a hand up to him. He let her pull him down to her.

She laid him back in the black flowers, running her hands over him. His eyes slid shut as he listened to her pulse. He’d had enough of death. All he wanted was the life inside her.

She took their avowal cup from his lax grip. He opened his eyes to see her biting her wrist. Her blood splashed into the clear chalice, filling it with red once more. The current of her magic swelled inside him, and his mouth watered.

As she slid her leg over him, he caressed the splash of freckles on the inside of her thigh. Straddling him, she tilted the cup, spilling her blood down her chest and over her breasts. The crimson flow parted around her pebbled nipples.

She put her hand to her breast and traced slow circles in the blood. Rising up on his elbows, he followed her motions with his gaze, his fangs throbbing. He flared his nostrils. As she played with her bloodstained nipple, he scented her pleasure.

She leaned down, letting him take her breast in his mouth. He groaned, licking her blood from the soft curve and sucking another taste from the taut peak. Thirsty for more, he caught the droplets falling from her other breast.

When she pulled back, he reached up to touch her, but she caught his hand. She sank her fangs into his wrist, and he grunted with satisfaction. Her eyelids grew heavy, and her throat worked, but she soon pulled her mouth back to add his blood to the chalice.

She poured the whole cup down her body. Now she traced her fingers between her breasts, down her torso, to paint her skin with his blood just above the apex of her thighs.

The sight unleashed his deepest instinct. Mine.

She opened his wrist to refill the cup again. He could bleed for her like this all night. This time, she splashed his blood across his bare chest and torso. Warm flecks spattered his face and hers.

Her eyes gleaming, she lowered her mouth to his heart. She made little moans in her throat as she licked her feast from his skin. The graze of her teeth around his nipple made him hiss.

She devoured him slowly, one mouthful at a time. Her tongue laved him into a daze of pleasure. There was no silence here, where her racing pulse defined the rhythms of magic itself.

Her heart beat faster, and her Craving pounded inside his chest. Her rising magic tingled across his skin, driving his desire higher and higher. This bloody worship only stoked their appetites. His body ached to give his goddess her fill.

In answer to his unspoke desire, she moved up his body. He kissed their feast from her lips, and she opened to him hungrily. When he rolled her onto her back, she arched beneath him, their bodies rubbing wet and warm against each other. While she was lost in his kiss, he untangled her fingers from the cup.

He let her up for air, and she gasped. He moved back to kiss his way along the inside of her thigh. When he sensed the flow of the powerful vein here, he sank his fangs in deep, relishing her husky outcry.

He pressed the cup to his bite. It was full before her Gift sealed her vein again. He swirled the chalice, savoring the bouquet that wafted up to him from her blood and body.

Hooking her other leg over his arm, he tipped the cup and let its contents trickle down the inside of her thigh. A shiver went through her. He caught the trail of blood on his tongue.

He emptied the chalice slowly, taking his drink from her knee to the groove of her thigh. Her sighs, her scent, the swell in their Union all told him she was on the verge of climax.

Suddenly, he was holding empty air. He turned toward her aura to see her at the side of the pool with their avowal cup in her hand. She gave him a saucy look over her shoulder and dove into the water.

He stepped after her, and despite the lust befuddling his thoughts, his aim was true. He appeared in front of her under the water and grabbed her.

As they surfaced together, water cascaded off her, slicking his braid against her head. Their blood swirled in the water around them. She looked into his eyes.

Her magic rippled through the water and down his spine. Arousal gripped him harder, and he gasped. Then her spell sank away into the pond, and she swam away from him.

He chased her, his longer arms bringing him close to her in a heartbeat. Just as he was about to grab her waist, levitation stirred the water, and she sank out of reach.

He dove after her. She was a shimmering shape below, a whorl of dark hair. The deeper they went into the letting site’s heart, the thicker their magic flowed. Power cascaded over his skin with every stroke. Immersed, he was parched for her, desperate to sink into her body.

At last, the bottom came into sight, covered in black petals. She was there, floating on her back with her fangs bared.

Before she could escape him again, he caught her wrist, pinning her hand and the cup to the floor of the pool. With her other hand, she pulled him to her.

He thrust inside her in measures, pumping his hips with the currents of magic. She undulated beneath him like part of the spell. Nothing had felt like this since they had left their own letting site behind.

When he was as deep in her as he could reach, she wrapped her legs around him tightly, grasping his hair. Her climax shuddered through her. Her magic surged into him, and his body shook on the edge of control. He went still, clenching his teeth, and held her against the floor of the pond while she writhed under him.

Her peak faded, but she still rocked her hips in little hungry motions. Her fangs were straining for him.

He sank his fangs into her throat, anchoring her. She found her way to his vein and fastened on. As their blood flowed into each other, the cycle pulled the magic in and through them. It poured out of him in wave after wave of pleasure as he spent himself in the grip of her power.

When the cycle released them, they floated to the surface in each other’s arms. She wiped blood and water from his chin with her thumb. Her eyes were still dilated, and her fangs showed no sign of retracting.

“Love me,” he said.

She sank her fangs into his throat again. Floating, he savored the pleasure she pulled out of him with every suck. His back came up against one of the pillars that descended into the pool. Magic feathered across his skin.

Her wet heat came down over his shaft. He gripped her hips and thrust to give her more. Pushing him against the pillar for leverage, she rode him hard.

Her moans echoed through the cavern. Their night apart had cost her more than she had wanted to admit. He held her close, stroking her hair as she took her fill of him.

She devoured him until he lost himself in her again and his body served up his pleasure to her. His shout rang in his ears as she suckled his climax from his veins, her own body spasming with vicarious release.

When he could move again, he gathered her in his arms and carried her onto the bank. They lay together, dripping and fulfilled, while the pond lapped at their toes. He reached up and pulled a black rose petal from her hair.

“I will never leave you again,” she whispered. “Not even for a night.”

“I will never watch you go,” he said. “I’ll follow you until you let me catch you.”

She rested her head on his chest. “You won’t have to. Just hold me right here.”