Chapter 11
A serpentine hallway made of smooth stone stretched ahead, the glimmering tether attached to Cirian’s chest weaving its way forward and vanishing around a curve.
“This can’t be,” Cirian breathed beside me, bracing a hand against the wall of similar grey stone.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, scanning the hall for signs of danger.
“It’s the Cradle,” he replied, moving forward, his fingers tracing the smooth surface. “This is the hallway just outside of the Cardinal’s office.”
“Have we returned?”
Cirian shook his head, slowing his pace. “The Cradle hums with the presence of the Source. This place is deathly quiet. It must be another illusion.”
The light from his tether dimmed, the hallways suddenly growing hazy as shadows emerged from the edges of the space.
“This darkness moves as a predator,” I said, closing the distance between Cirian and me. “It waits to pounce when we are at our most vulnerable.”
“The Umbral,” Cirian corrected me, closing his eyes and letting out a deep breath. “That’s what Bast said it was called. And you’re not wrong. I need a second to concentrate. Can you make sure nothing horrible slaughters me while I negotiate with my softening cock?”
I snorted a laugh that echoed down the empty hall.
“It would be my honor.”
I took the opportunity to move ahead a few paces, scouting the next bend of the hallway.
More shadows waited, cowering away from the cerulean light shed from the tether.
But other than the rhythmic undulation of the shades, no other movement caught my eye.
Returning to Cirian’s side, it was difficult not to notice the change in his demeanor.
The longer he manifested this tether, the thicker the air around him became with the scent of his lust. The flesh across his cheekbones was flushed with heat, and the lightest sheen of sweat graced his brow as it furrowed in concentration.
I only hoped he’d be able to tolerate the discomfort long enough for us to find Bastien.
The hall illuminated once again, and Cirian’s eyes fluttered open, finding me waiting. He gave a sheepish grin, quickly dropping his gaze to the floor in front of him.
“Are you alright?”
He nodded, shifting his weight forward to begin down the hall once more. “It’s funny, I’m normally very much into the whole delayed pleasure game. But I fear this undertaking may break me of the habit.”
“Delayed pleasure?” I repeated, my interest piqued. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar.”
Cirian threw a quizzical glance over his shoulder. “Surely, you’re joking.”
“Explain it to me. Perhaps it is something I’ve already partaken in without knowing?”
“It’s just what it sounds like,” Cirian replied, his gaze set forward once again. “You deny yourself pleasure, or at least enough pleasure to achieve climax, till you can’t stand it any longer. Till you’re ready to unravel at the very caress of a finger, or the whisper of air against your ear.”
“It sounds unpleasant.”
“Not at all. Uncomfortable, maybe. But only in the best ways. Come now, Azrael. Are you telling me that you’ve never wanted to drive a partner mad with desire till they’re begging you to provide them release?”
“There is not usually time for this,” I answered, warmth rippling down my spine. “I’ve only mated during a heat. The urgency of my biology overwhelms all reason, and I must have release if I wish to not go mad.”
“Been there,” Cirian added with a chuckle. “Forgive me if this is taboo to ask, but I’ve always been horribly curious about these heats of which you speak. So, it’s true that an Unseen can be driven insane by it?”
“Yes, though it is a rare occurrence. There are many methods available to alleviate our heats, so the only way an Unseen might arrive at the point of ravenous ferality is by conscious choice.”
“Why would someone choose such a thing?”
“There are some amongst the Unseen who see it as the ultimate gesture of one’s devotion.
If one’s mate should perish while the heat still burns in your veins, then they would forgo all forms of release till it builds to the point of combustion.
I’ve only witnessed it once during my lifetime, and it is a spectacle that I never wish to encounter again. ”
“Combustion,” Cirian repeated, recognition slowly contorting his features. “You don’t mean what happened back at Chateau Greene?”
Memories of the flames engulfing the chateau bubbled to the surface, along with the face of the man who had served as the catalyst. “Crassus knew that he was not long for this world. His mate, Renn, had been killed in battle nearly two years before. He wanted to carry on as long as he could, for the sake of the Rebellion, but once he was captured, he knew that there was one final act of defiance he could muster with the help of the one he loved most.”
“Source’s sake, you’re telling me that an Unseen can get so horny that they explode?”
“More or less.”
“Fuck. Then this whole pleasure denial thing is really a foreign concept.”
“Very much so. But I must say, I still find it intriguing.”
Cirian slowed for a moment, turning to face me. “Uh, Azrael. You’re not… like, I know Tobias has been out of commission for a few months now, but you’re not reaching the point of going all Crassus on us anytime soon, right?”
I snorted another laugh. “Fear not, I am still in control of my faculties. Plus, I am not mated to Tobias in the ways that bind, so there is no reason for me to allow the heat to be my end.”
“That’s good to hear,” he said, giving me a wary smile. “I’d hate to go through all the trouble of saving everyone from this nightmare only to get caught up in your explosion of pure sexual energy.”
“Not to worry. You’re safe.”
He nodded, then looked down at the dimming thread tethered to his chest and exhaled.
“One moment. I got distracted by all the heat talk, and I need to get back into the right headspace.”
“Take all the time you need.”
As Cirian set to his task, my mind drifted back to thoughts of Tobias.
It was true, what I told Cirian, that Tobias and I were not mated together in the ways that Unseen typically observed.
Then again, for an Unseen to mate with another Magi is such a rare occurrence, I was unsure if the same ceremonies would be observed.
The Adored surely had their own rituals based around the binding ceremony.
Should Tobias want to participate in those, I would understand.
But then there were the others. I labored not under the delusion that I was Tobias’s only priority.
It was something that I had to reconcile within myself.
It was not uncommon for Unseen to have multiple mates, especially those with leporine traits.
They were notorious for their insatiable appetites, so multiple partners just made sense.
Even lupine Unseen like myself saw the benefits of having one’s needs met by a small pack, and so formed groups that shared the burdens of emotional and physical support with one another.
Had I been raised alongside the other younglings in Chateau Greene, perhaps I would have been exposed to more of those dynamics.
But amongst the urchins, under the thumb of Rudderkin, a harsher reality was taught.
We didn’t waste time dwelling on thoughts of mates of our own, as there was a non-zero chance that we wouldn’t make it to our next meal, much less to the point of starting a family.
The life of a soldier robbed me of those thoughts.
It was only when Tobias came back into my life that they’d begun to resurface.
Not only the idea of being mated to him, but of creating something more.
A family of our own.
New, primal heat surged in my gut, twisting my insides. It was a desire that I had long ignored, once again making its presence known. The need to create life—and the overwhelming desire to do it with Tobias.
“I’ll give it to you, Azzy. I’ll give you what you desire.”
My ears twitched, my thoughts grinding to a halt as I stared down the empty hallway. Had I imagined his voice, calling out to me from the dark? That was the only explanation, as Tobias was far from this place.
“It can be yours, Azzy. I love you so much. I’ll give you what you want. I’ll make you a father. We can grow old together, tending to the roses. Don’t you want that?”
The voice bounced down the smooth walls of the hall till it came from all directions. I turned back to Cirian, finding his eyes open and wide.
“You heard that, too?”
He nodded. “It’s never been so loud before. You can’t listen, Azrael. It’s just trying to lure you in, like it did the others.”
“What does it want?” I asked.
“I don’t know. And I don’t want to find out. Come on, we can’t linger here.”
Cirian moved further down the corridor, the light from his tether dimmer, but still bright enough to keep the shadows from encroaching on us as we went.
The path ahead snaked around several curves, and we moved in silence.
The voice did not speak again as we went, and eventually it faded from my mind, like the details of a dream that you struggle to grasp.
“Wait,” he said as we rounded another turn, stopping in his tracks. He placed a hand over his chest, his brow furrowed. “I think we may be getting closer.”
“How can you be sure?”
“It’s just a feeling. Like I could pass a thought down the line to him.
It’s something that we did while we were—uh—never mind, it matters not.
The point is, I think I can reach out.” He closed his eyes once more, his features contorting in concentration and fingers wrapped around the luminous thread, as if he were going to pluck the strings of an instrument.
“We’re coming to get you,” Cirian whispered. “Just let us know where you are.”
The tether vibrated, much like a harp as it resonates, a dulcet tone permeating the stagnant air around us. The tether’s light glowed hot, growing so bright that I had to avert my eyes.