10. Kalix
Chapter 10
Kalix
T here's something intriguing about a man with nothing to gain and nothing to lose. I've always found watching my father similar to figuring out a problem that seems, at least externally, complex, but is in actuality quite simple.
Azai is no man of great intelligence nor is he exceedingly handsome. His major strength is ... well, strength. And the fact that he can sire multiple powerful sons in a single year. Reclining on the creaking bench seat as much as I can without breaking the damn thing, I cast a bored look down the aisles of turned heads to where my father stands in the center of the entrance.
"Good morning, young ones," he says, his deep voice echoing through the vast space of the dining hall. "I am Azai, God of Strength and Virility. I welcome you to Ortus once more as I'm sure Zalika and Nubo have done so at our behest."
Annoyed and growing increasingly disinterested in the circumstances, I glance across the table to where Kiera sits, her back straight, her expression cold and impassive. Letting my eyes roam down her lithe frame, I inhale deeply and smile. She still smells of my brother beneath the soap and saltwater she no doubt attempted to clean herself with. Watching my Little Thief, unimpeded, I trace the angles of her long throat with my eyes. Imagining my snakes wrapped around her there and lower, using their minds and bodies to shift her to take my?—
My delicious thoughts cut off as Kiera's lips part and she sucks in a sudden breath. Recognizing the air of tension that lances through her body and that of the men at my side, I let my attention snap back to Azai only to realize he's no longer there.
Ruen and Theos get up at my side, their bodies moving quickly as several more start to rise from their seats. "What is it?" I demand, following the movement. Across the table, Kiera is standing and circling the slab of wood, not stopping until she's within touching distance. My palms itch to reach for her, to touch her, to drag her into my body and burn her shape against my flesh.
"Weren't you listening?" Theos asks, his face pinched just as tight as everyone else's.
I shrug. "Not really. Azai's words are never that important."
Theos casts me a look of utter bewilderment. I don't know why. He knows what Azai is like. A swollen, self-inflated bag of muscles lacking in anything else but the most minute of intellect.
"The God Council is here," Ruen states as the bodies rising from tables begin to make their way toward the exit. "They've called all Mortal Gods of both Perditia and Riviere to hear their decrees."
I roll my eyes. "It will be about their pathetic excuse of a reason to bring us all here," I say, turning as Ruen does and following behind the crowd of others.
Kiera steps up to my right and eyes me. "You guessed that this place wasn't a school, but a prison," she murmurs thoughtfully. "Any ideas on what they could have to tell us?"
A grin tugs at the corner of my lips and I arch a brow down at her. "Give me your tongue and I might give you another guess."
A scowl overtakes her and she stomps quickly ahead. "Never-fucking-mind," she shoots back. Theos, ever the dutiful lover and admirer, hastens to catch up with her. I don't mind lingering back though. After all, it does give me such a splendid view of her ass. More imaginings come to mind. Splitting those lush, rounded cheeks apart and sliding my cock between them, taking her there and relishing in her cries of pain as she's forced to accept every inch of my shaft into the darkest part of her.
Ruen rounds on me, disrupting my internal musings as if the man has a keen insight into my head. Then again, if anyone does, he might. His conviction to remain straightforward and honorable is almost sad when we both know that beneath all of his noble intentions and words, he's just as I am. Greedy. Selfish. An incurable monster. The only thing that separates us are the shackles of civility that he forces himself to wear, tightening them whenever they get too loose.
I cast a look back at Kiera's quickly retreating backside. She'll break those chains of his if he's not careful, and Gods, I cannot wait to see it.
"You need to be serious," Ruen growls, his voice lowering in warning.
I tilt my head to the side. "Why?"
He blinks as if he hadn't been expecting my response. He should know by now that few demands made of me are ever heeded. "We're in a precarious situation," he continues. "The Gods could kill us?—"
The tedious matter of listening to him becomes all too much. Waving a hand, I step around him and start walking again. As expected, he follows. "I'm fucking serious, Kalix. This isn't just?—"
"If the Gods wanted us dead," I say, cutting him off, "we'd be dead. Therefore, they don't want us dead."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ruen's brow crease. "Even if that's true, they obviously want something from us and it's?—"
"Of course they do." It's so damned obvious. The two of us exit the now empty dining hall and trail behind the large following of students several paces ahead as they're led—no doubt—by Azai and the two cronies of Ortus that had arrived with him. "They want our power. They can't exactly get it if we're dead." I slide him an overt look. "I thought you were the smart one, Brother."
"They know we wouldn't give our powers to them willingly," Ruen replies, that ever-present groove in his brow remaining in place. "It would kill us."
"Maybe." I shrug. "Or just make us wish for death."
"You're not concerned about this at all, are you?" he asks.
Reaching up, I place the palm of one hand against the side of my head and then crack it to the side. "Why should I be?" I offer in lieu of an answer. "I don't fear death."
A beat of silence passes where nothing but the sound of our boots scuffing against the stone floor beneath echoes around us, and then, "What about Kiera?"
Pausing as the mass of people ahead begin disappearing through an open archway, I turn to look at him. "What do you mean?"
The furrow between his brows is gone as he examines me. "You like Kiera, yes? You wouldn't want her to die, would you?"
"She won't die." She cannot die. I wouldn't allow it.
"She could very well die at their hands," Ruen says calmly. "You gave her one of your snakes when the God Council called her before. You must have been worried then."
"It was to keep watch on her," I remind him. "We were right outside."
"Yes, but now we're in a castle of brimstone," Ruen points out, gesturing above us to the arching ceiling. It's like standing inside a cluster of swords craning towards the sky. I hate it when Ruen asks me questions like this. It makes me feel as if he knows something I don't. "We're weaker here," he continues. "You and I both know that the Gods want something from her."
"They cannot have it," I snap, dropping my palm from my neck and curling both hands into fists. "They cannot have her. She is mine."
"Then we need to protect her, don't we," Ruen says. "Whatever you know or suspect of the Gods, you need to tell us."
Before I can provide him with an answer, a voice cuts through the air of quiet between us. "Sirs, the Gods do not like to be kept waiting."
As one, Ruen and I turn towards the owner of the voice. Dark skinned with glittering eyes of cut onyx, Zalika stands clad in a long robe the color of freshly spilled blood. Her lips spread into a smile and I blink at the sight. Where flat pearly white caps should be, Zalika smiles with sharp spikes filling her mouth, the difference just slight enough that it forces me to look extra hard at the pronounced effect. She gestures towards the now empty archway that the others disappeared into.
"This way, if you please."
Thoroughly annoyed, I contemplate closing the distance between myself and the woman as her back turns towards me. It would be nothing to stride up behind her and take her skull between my palms. To twist it until the crack of her spinal cord severing echoes in my ears and then, promptly rip her skin from side to side as I removed her entire head from her body. As I consider doing just that, the woman pauses in the juncture of the entrance, glancing over her shoulder. Her gaze meets mine and the hall appears to narrow in my periphery. Her smile widens, a small, almost imperceptible movement, but I notice it. No one smiles at me like that. Without a hint of fear or anxiety. A vein in my throat throbs as a strange sort of emotion creeps across my chest.
It is ... unease? No, I've never felt uneasy before. Intrigue? No, I am intrigued by Kiera and this emotion doesn't resemble such curiosity. What then could it be?
Perhaps ... but no.
Zalika turns back to the entrance, and Ruen and I follow as we step into a large assembly space with rows upon rows of stone benches already filled with students from both Perditia and Riviere. She moves away, faster now, not as if she's escaping me, but as if she has something to do. I watch her go even as Ruen urges me to the side, finding Theos and Kiera nearby and the seats they saved for us.
For the first time in my life, I think I might have looked into a person's eyes and seen nothing but an empty void reflected back. The same I see in my own gaze each time I look into a mirror.
Whoever or whatever Zalika is, she is of my kind.
Cruel. Unyielding. Immoral.
Instead of being more curious about her, I have the distinct urge to rush after her and follow through with my initial desires. To rend her head from her shoulders and end her life. Between two creatures such as we, there can only be one and I will not allow her existence to threaten my own.