21. Kiera
Chapter 21
Kiera
“ Y ou have been brought here to perform the first rite of the Equinox celebration." Tryphone's words filter through my mind as I stare at the pile of wood at his back. The pale, nearly ivory-looking structure of supposed ‘wood’ looks more like a collection of bodies devoid of life—arms and legs shriveled into husks and stacked atop one another. Ruen's hand disappears from mine and I still can't seem to drag my attention back from the sight as a shiver crawls up my spine.
A cool glass is pressed into my palm. I glance down, relieved to find that it's not the same red liquid as what Azai had. Ruen's gaze is clouded and uncomfortable as he nudges me to face forward once more, but not before I see that he and the others all have glasses of their own. When my eyes settle back on the God King, he has his own goblet of gold lifted to the sky.
"Tonight, we burn sacred wood of the Gods and when the ashes rain down upon you, you shall be permitted to use them to cleanse your bodies of all transgressions." His mouth curves into the slant of a cruel smile.
I focus on Tryphone's face, but there's very little in the way of features that resemble her —Ariadne. My mother. The God Queen, on the other hand ... her features reflect Ariadne's so obviously, I don't know how I never saw it before. The delicate curve of her nose, the shape of her eyes, the pout of her mouth. All of it reminds me of the woman in the cells below. The only difference is that where Danai is all golden flame and warmth, Ariadne is silver steel and cold ice.
"When the ashes choose you," Tryphone continues, "you must lift them to your skin. Kiss your flesh with the tribute of the fire." His eyes turn over the crowd.
When Tryphone’s gaze finally stills over me, I return his stare. Heat burns up my spine and my fingers clench on the glass in my fist. My muscles contract, preparing for some unseen attack. The Darkhavens shift closer, offering both their protection and the warmth of their bodies. I reach for the heat, letting it invade my bones even as frost quickly swipes it away. Breath evaporates from my lungs, dispersing like a fleeing army. Empty of air.
My lips become dry, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. I swallow, tasting sand and ash on my tongue and wanting to vomit. Rooted to the stone beneath my bare feet, I break Tryphone’s gaze and stare at the glass of wine in my hand. Dangerous! My mind screams, the sound of the word higher pitched than my own mental voice. My fingers tremble around the stem.
I shouldn’t drink this.
Almost as soon as that thought emerges and I plan to toss it over my shoulder, a familiar face appears. All violent teeth and sharp smile, Zalika grins as she barrels forward, her own glass in hand—though she’s dressed like the Gods this evening and not like the rest of us. Surprised, Theos stumbles to the side to avoid being slammed into and my fingers loosen on the glass.
Happy first rite … Zalika’s voice is a whisper on the wind despite her very real presence. It’s so brief that I almost expect to hear her words in my head versus aloud.
Then some unknown source emboldens my body, my limbs moving against my own desires as my hand lifts, fingers regripping the stem of the glass once more until the rim is pressed to my lips. Fuck!
My eyes skid away from Zalika and back to Tryphone’s smug expression as one of his dark brows arches as if to tell me to give up the fight. Sparkling liquid rushes over my tongue, sliding its way towards the back of my throat. No. No! I can’t … it’s too late.
The wine disappears down my throat and the effect is almost immediate. The tension in my bones eases. My mind fogs over, a rolling wave of euphoria entering me. I glance to the side to see that the others are doing the same. Ruen’s eyes are wide as his mouth opens and he pours the wine over his tongue. I know why, though I can’t seem to gather enough wits to remember the reason it’s so dangerous. Someone is controlling him—controlling us . Theos coughs as he chugs his own glass down and Kalix … Kalix is glaring at the dais as the veins of his arms bulge and pulsate in time to the glittering of rage in his gaze.
Whatever we’ve done—it’s bad.
I swallow mouthfuls and the bubbling, tart liquid seems to flood my bones, reigniting my ability to breathe. I drink for so long that I empty my cup and am forced to lower it before the God King's speech has even ended.
His full, masculine mouth remains curved upward. Satisfaction gleams in his burning eyes. The effect of the liquid, some type of alcohol, seems to slither deeper, pouring from my bones into my bloodstream. I lick my lips, tasting fruit and something more, something ... addictive.
"May the first rite begin!" Tryphone finally yells, earning a responding cheer. Hands shoot up into the sky, glasses clinking. Drink being downed over and over again.
Good. I sway where I stand, an unseen force beckoning me forward and back. The wine is so wonderful. The bubbles tickling my throat even though my glass is long empty. It's truly ... Divine.
A torch is dropped upon the mass of petrified wood and it goes up in a large swooshing sound as the flame eats across the dried-out husks. The Gods seem to disappear now that they've performed their duty and without Tryphone's eyes on me, I find it easier to relax. Maybe this isn't so bad. It's just a party, right? I reach for another drink from a passing Terra dressed much like Iysa had been. Moving statues pass through the garden, disappearing into quickly forming shadows, bringing trays full of the strange bubbly liquid that feels like sunshine under my skin. My vision goes blurry as I suck back another goblet of bubbly wine.
"Kiera?" Hard hands grip my shoulders and turn me to face a bare chest.
Theos' chest. I smile and drop my now empty goblet to the ground, distantly hearing it clink. "The wine is delicious," I say, pressing myself into him. "Did you have some?" Wait. He did, right? I saw him drink ... he should have more. Far more. So should I.
I grab a goblet from a nearby table and try to hand it to him. Theos' eyes linger on the glass as if it's all he's ever wanted, but then he shakes his head. "I don't think we should?—"
I don't let him finish the refusal he'd been about to give me. I tip the cup up and suck back a mouthful. Unable to help myself, I drink most of the wine before I remember what I'd been planning. As Theos grabs it from me, I keep the last bit of it between my lips and lean up onto my toes. He stiffens as I press my lips to his and then part them.
He immediately opens to accept my silent request and the wine flows from my tongue over his. He swallows. Somewhere in the garden, music begins to swirl around us. Not nearly as sharp and startling as the horns from earlier, but soft strings, plucked and pulled and teased into making the most gentle of melodies.
"It tastes so good," I murmur, stroking his mouth with mine. Back and forth. Back and forth. Hands calloused from swordplay grip my hips and spin me around until my back is shoved against Theos' chest. Kalix hovers over me, black pupils slitted like his snakes’.
My grin only widens. "Do you want some too?" I ask dazedly. Curling one arm back around Theos' neck as my golden Mortal God bends to kiss my bare throat, I reach up and clasp the back of my beautiful monster's head and compel him to lower himself so that I can kiss him too.
I feed Kalix my tongue, letting him have the last of the wine's taste as I lift my hips against his groin. Twin erections strain against me. One from the front and one against my backside. Kalix breaks off the kiss as my head swims from lack of air. The pupils are so narrow that all I can see are the rich, jade green of his irises.
"More." One word, croaked out in a low, desperate tone, but that's all I need.
Reclining against Theos' chest, I snag another goblet from a Terra who appears to have turned to actual stone nearby. A giggle bursts out of me as I lift the goblet to Kalix's lips. He opens for me, tilting his head back even as his green eyes remain locked on me. I pour the liquid and he swallows. Some of the bubbly stream flows over his chin and down his throat to his naked chest.
Unable to help myself, I lean forward and lick up the path. From the center of his pecs to the strong throat, and further up his square cut jawline until our lips meet with a violent clash again. The goblet is peeled from my hand as I reach for Kalix with both hands. Dimly, I realize that it must be Theos downing the last of the wine, but I'm too absorbed to care.
My body tingles with wanton hunger, with a feeling of utter giddiness I've never experienced before. Is this what happiness feels like? True and utter blissful happiness? If so, then it's no lie to say that the Gods have given us a gift this night.
After several more minutes locked in Kalix's arms and embrace, I lift my head from his and glance around. Disoriented and confused, I search for my final Darkhaven. Ruen is nearby, his eyes closed as his body seems to move in time with the melody. A smile steals my confusion away as I lean into Kalix and watch him. The rippling of muscles contract and release, his scars white against his otherwise tan flesh. I bite down on my lower lip as I imagine my mouth on him. Then I realize ... I can do that. These men ... they're mine and no one can take them from me.
With a laugh, I separate from Kalix, much to his disgruntlement. I snag another goblet and shove it into his palm, appeasing him as a stream of the ambrosian liquid is set flowing from a nearby statue's mouth and into a waiting pool. Fountains. How grand. With a silly little smile on my lips and both Theos and Kalix practically rushing for the source of the delicious wine, I drift over to Ruen.
Mortal Gods crush all around us, their own bodies grinding and moving in rhythmic waves. My hands smooth up the flat planes of Ruen's abdomen and up to his pecs. He sucks in a breath before leaning into me. Cool, ocean-dark eyes open. Gone is the constant strain around them. His features, so open and smooth, appear far younger than ever before. I find I like it.
Scraping a nail against a flat male nipple, Ruen's lips part and a moan echoes out. The front of his mors pallium wrapped around his hips shifts as his cock juts out, raising the fabric.
"Dance with me?" I murmur my question, even as I urge him closer with my hands.
Ruen doesn't fight me, his own hands rising to cup my hips. All around us, bodies turn into an array of fuzzy shadows. It's nice. Everyone disappears until it's just Ruen and me. My eyes slide shut as Ruen's hands begin to travel, descending up and down my body, to my waist, and back to my hips. He hauls me closer until there's no part of me not touching him. The scent of ink, parchment, and mint lingers around us.
His cock strains between us and ironically, I realize that the rope around my waist no longer feels as if it's weighing me down. "You offer my brothers your kisses, but not me?" Ruen's whispered question is less envious and more of a challenge. I lift my gaze to his glittering gemstone eyes and grin.
"Shall I offer you something else?" I rise onto my toes and hover my mouth just an inch away from his. His fingers constrict against my sides, thumbs digging into the underside curves of my breasts. Scraping my teeth along his lower lip, I let myself drop back down and relish in his groan of frustration as the cock against my belly throbs beneath his clothes.
Panting, feeling as if my breasts have swollen and my stomach has gone empty, I lean back. How had I ever thought this beautiful gown so revealing? It's far too confining now. Reaching up, I pull at the straps around my chest. My breasts hurt and my nipples are hard.
Ruen wastes no time in helping me. Already, I can hear feminine cries and masculine moans somewhere in the crowd. They must understand this heated need that boils inside me, demanding to be set free. Ruen helps to unlace the straps that bind me, my breasts tumbling free into his waiting hands. I cry out as the moment they're bared, he bends his head and sucks one turgid nipple into his mouth.
Violent urgency surges inside me, spearing up from my core. I can feel wetness oozing down my inner thighs. "Thank the Gods..." I whisper as Ruen moves to my other breast and performs the same sensual act of drawing the needy bud into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue before gently biting it with his teeth. Thank the Gods Iysa had refused to allow me underwear.
It all makes sense now. The Gods want to cleanse us of our inhibitions. They want to free us from our worries and fears and pains.
A fresh laugh bubbles up out of my chest and I sink my fingers into Ruen's hair, lifting his head and guiding him to meet my lips.
Thank the Gods...