Chapter Twenty-One The Nova #2
The art of making your own power was not about what you had to offer materially, not always at least. It was about patience, attitude, the way you made someone feel.
It didn’t have to be anything complex. Even the simplest of creatures understood some of the most primal urges.
At least for anything sentient, the way we understood the term.
I turned on my heel, staring at the blank canvas in front of the camera. With one foot in front of the other, I twisted the flower in my hand until I stood where the stool had once been. I turned to the camera.
And I did nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
I inspected the flower, ignoring my environment despite the outburst just before.
There was a tickle along my skin; I would have thought it a breeze. The edges of my robe pulled. First softly, then with a little more intention. Off my shoulders, the opening widening. The silk was smooth against my skin, the marks exposed like uncovering some sort of long-lost map.
Then with one yank, it was on the floor.
The air around me became cold. The only thing touching my skin was my hair along my back, just touching my tailbone. My marks began a gentle glow, but not all at once. I first noticed it at my hand, then the light moved down my arm to my elbow, over my hip, and to my front.
I twisted the flower stem in my hand, then used it to cover the glowing area low on my abdomen.
“You’re not subtle,” a deep voice said in my ear, followed by a chorus of whispers, mocking my words from earlier.
“Neither are you.” I tilted my head away.
“You seem proud of your spectacle,” he said plainly, then I felt the brushing of what could have been fingertips along my back.
“I don’t know what you mean; not everything is for you.”
“You mean to distract.” The voice again, but in my other ear. “A clever distraction, but I know you.”
“I don’t know if it’ll work. With you, I mean.”
“I’d rather you not waste my time if you’re going to summon me.”
“I didn’t summon you, did I?”
There was a sensation around my ankles, my throat. A cold touch around my body, something crawling. Then a hold at my waist.
“Does it make you jealous?” My throat felt a bit tight. “When I pay more attention to other creatures in spite of you? Or does it anger you?”
There was silence, only accompanied by invisible sensations.
“Do you ever just want a taste?” I asked. “The smallest, gentlest taste.”
The feeling stopped, but the air was still cold and the grip was still firm.
“Do you think you can command such a force with so little to offer back?” he hummed.
“Something small,” I said, “bite-size.”
“Careful,” he warned, his voice smooth and sleek, like oil on marble, “I’m not like your other Peculiars.”
“You’re just like my other Peculiars, or like any other earthly man—”
“You wouldn’t finish that thought if you were bright.”
“Indulge me, sweet Beast,” I nearly purred, “show me what I’m missing. I’m a hands-on learner.”
“Are you willing to take the risk?”
“What are the risks?” I entertained the banter.
Suddenly my eyes were covered. A step forward, but arms caught me.
Or at least, what I assumed were arms. “Of me swallowing you whole?” There was a rumble in his voice, like the low rattle of a snake.
“The faintest caress from the likes of me could grant you immense luck, riches, your heart’s desires. ”
The words danced to life in the darkness I could see.
Clothes that shimmered in gold, tea so rare that even now I could probably afford only a leaf or two.
Flashes of inventions never seen before, but not there long enough to grasp what they were or what they could have been.
A rush of feelings, emotions of such elatedness, I could only compare them to possibly something of a drug.
A flutter of happiness and comfort that warmed me deep inside, radiating through my rib cage and causing a slight laugh to escape my throat. The feeling of sun on warm skin, the ease of being worriless, a mind so spotless and unburdened it could be held in competition against pearls.
“But no matter how lucky you are—you would never be able to stop me from consuming you entirely.”
And with those words the mirage faded, the feelings snapped from my body like air being ripped from my lungs.
But this time no mirage, no demonstration.
Feelings of emptiness filled the cavern of my body, a weight like lead encapsulating every organ—and the sickening flash of everyone I loved before my eyes, including Dorian, on the cold slab of the mortuary.
My arm whipped around and clawed whatever had grabbed me.
I clutched something cold, feeling familiarly like my shadows. The darkness faded from my vision, and I realized I was stuck in the black mass. My ankles were buried, tendrils wrapped around my legs, and my arm disappeared into the mass behind me.
“Do you understand now who you are dealing with?” His voice in my ear again, but this time it was the shadowy three-eyed face. The monstrous thing. “Grant you such misery it may snap your heart in pieces from the strain.”
“I do not fear you,” I said. “I want to learn from you.”
“Yet you haven’t been able to take simple warnings.”
“I have been kind to you, have I not?” I argued. “I’ve welcomed you to my world; why not welcome me to yours?”
A ravenous rumble echoed through the room, a slight rattle with every cavernous breath of the beast.
“Teach me.” I couldn’t hide the panic in my voice, from the shadows crawling over my skin, clawing up my body. “I can be receptive.”
“Receptive,” he repeated sourly, “but can you be disciplined?”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
“Dear Iris”—a soft chuckle rang in my ear, despite how smooth it sounded—“you are past the point of no return.”
“But you’re willing to entertain it,” I pointed out. “Let me learn.”
An armlike appendage reached around, the claws uncurling in front of my face. Then, like how his chest had opened up before, his palm split down the middle, sharp teeth faint in the dull light, lit only by the glow of my markings, of us together.
“Does it frighten you, little star?” he teased, the teeth of the palm snapping.
I shook my head in protest.
“Keep those heartbeats slow, prove to me you are in control.”
“That isn’t fair—”
“I will be no good to you if you are afraid,” he said, his voice low against my ear, “of me, or your abilities.”
“It’s instinctual.”
“Fight it, then, or else nothing could prepare you for my world, the Otherside.” His voice slithered around my mind, furthering the stakes. “One elevated heartbeat, and I may eat you right here.”
He placed his palm against my neck, a warm, wet sensation.
My breath hitched. The tongue from the palm’s mouth against my throat.
Steady. I took a full breath, then an exhale. The head rush was so strong I could hear my pulse in my ear. The only thing keeping me calm was how good it would feel to prove him wrong, to show him I was not as weak as he assumed.
He slid his hand down my sternum, then cupped my breast. The tongue traced along my nipple, flicking it before I felt the suction again. In doing so, I felt the grazing of the teeth, but no bite.
A breathy moan escaped me, my face growing hot. I could no longer hide my rapid breathing, my chest rising and falling, the only movement I was allowed in the entrapment. I dropped my iris, my head tilting back.
A tendril took the flower, dragged the petals up my leg, dusting my hips, then finally to brush against my other nipple.
“You are so disgustingly puny,” he said in my ear, “a single sand in a sea of possibilities, most likely to be lost, forgotten, overtaken.”
“And yet it is significant enough to irritate oysters into making pearls,” I said, swallowing, “or annoy much larger creatures who devour it.”
“Are you a pearl,” he said, his tone teasing, “beautiful, delicate, and useless?”
His hand cupped between my legs. I nearly jumped.
The tongue laved, twisting and lapping at my opening. I could hear the wet, lewd noises. I could feel it. Yet I couldn’t see a thing. It was all lost in the dark with the shadow slowly beginning to cover my body.
There was an overwhelming jolt, like everything suddenly was turning slow. A helpless drain, like bloodletting on an empty stomach. The feeling was euphoric, lightheaded, the state between closing your eyes and finally succumbing to sleep.
The tongue prodded me, beginning to go inside. It was so warm, impossibly slick. My back arched, my head sloping into the shadow, a shoulder forming for my convenience, and I could see the three eyes on me, watching.
I closed my eyes, rolling my hips against the pressure of the hand. A moan, but I was too much in a daze to be embarrassed. Please the nightmare, and you’d have safe dreams.
The tongue slipped deep inside, I could feel it pulsing before retreating. It curled and twisted as I leaned into it, finding a rhythm. The large hand had a firm grip, its claws digging into my skin, possibly even piercing.
A low, vibrational noise came from the beast. I could feel it in place of my heartbeat, the throbbing of my desire.
At a steady pace, he moved his hand in tandem with my hips, piercing me deeper and deeper while letting me be as forceful as I wanted with my thrusts, taking whatever was offered.
The feelings began to bloom, then they festered.
The sensations within my body tightened into an impossible endless knot, taut and nearly tangible.
Then came a release. A cool breeze on a hot day, the first taste of water while parched, one sweet thing in a time of rations.
I felt like I was melting. My consciousness waned, I saw stars clouding my vision, little twinklings until they closed in on those three marquises, the beast watching me fade.
Something like this should have been scary, but the raw power suddenly given to me, rushing through my body—I didn’t care. I was at ease, at peace.
The last thing I saw were those glowing eyes in a sea of stars, then a gentle caress of darkness.