Chapter 31 - Stark
STARK
I’m surrounded by enemies I can’t kill, riding a silent creature vastly inferior to Cratos, and yet the woman seated in front of me is going to be the reason I go insane.
Right now, I should be carefully noting the landscape we ride through. Every moment I spend in Astreona is a chance for intelligence gathering that could make or break our position in this war.
Instead, I’m fighting the urge to deliberately hold Meryn tighter to me. To press her shapely ass against my stiffening cock through the thin fabric of her trousers each time the horse jostles us up and down.
This is the last thing I fucking need—Meryn in close proximity, pushing me closer and closer to a perilous edge I’m trying to avoid.
Yesterday was a mistake, plain and simple. That mental connection took us both to a frenzied place, feeding off each other’s sensations and riling each other up. We were out of our right minds.
Once it was over, all I felt was regret.
Regret that I might have pushed her into something too fast, too soon.
That she might not be able to trust me after.
That I let my control slip and endangered her, moving her closer to the snare of whatever Siegrid is planning.
That I now know the sweet, tangy taste of her slick heat, and I know I can’t ever have it again.
To protect Meryn, I need to stay far the fuck away.
Her ass bounces back against my dick again just then, as if to mock my resolve. Desire rips through me, and I knock my head back, suppressing a groan.
Is this why people like horses so much?
“What did you say?” Cratos pipes in from back at the outpost. His feral curiosity floods me. “Are we eating the horses?”
“There is no ‘we’ in eating horses, and please leave them alone,” I grind out. “A Siphon arm is enough forbidden meat for one day. Stop fantasizing about snacks, and keep your eyes on Saela.”
Cratos grumbles as he cuts off our connection.
We make our way out of the fields. The dirt road turns to gravel and then paving stones as we enter the village.
The town is nestled on the slope of a green hill, with narrow cobblestone roads winding throughout. Smoke lazily drifts out of chimneys. Houses are sturdy and well maintained. Everything here is bizarrely fucking idyllic.
There are overflowing garden plots between the houses. Even in the Bonded City, you didn’t see stuff like this; our climate is too inhospitable for it. Here, it seems the citizens just grow whatever they want.
The contrast between this place and the towns in Nocturna is startling.
The people we see on the streets look different from commoners in Sturmfrost, and it takes me a minute to realize the difference: They look well fed.
I thought Astreona was supposed to be the shithole, not the other way around.
Still, my teeth remain on edge, muscles tensed and ready for movement.
Meryn looks around her, noticing much the same. “Davide,” she calls out quietly, and he reins in his horse until he’s beside us.
I want to punch the self-satisfied smirk off his face. It’s clear he sees the effect this well-kept town is having on us.
The man turns, eyebrows raised. “Yes?”
“Who lives in this town? Siphons or humans?”
He shakes his head. “Like everywhere in Astreona, the population is mixed. But this particular town is predominantly human.”
Meryn stiffens in my arms, and shock rumbles through me. We heard from her father that humans and Siphons live together in Astreona—a total mindfuck after forever believing that they’d all been wiped out here.
But the population is mixed? They live among each other? They’re less segregated than Nocturna.
Or…
My mouth twists in distaste. Or the Siphons just like to keep their meals close, like well-kept cattle. Until it’s time for slaughter.
The same thoughts are clearly running through Meryn’s head. “So the humans here are at the Siphons’ mercy?”
The people we see walking around the streets seem remarkably calm, given that their predators live among them. A man who looks human and a woman with obvious Siphon beauty cross the street ahead of us. The Siphon bows her head to listen to something the human is saying.
Almost as if they were… friends.
Davide’s tone is bored, but his words remain polite. “Not exactly. While all Siphons drink animal blood as basic sustenance, human blood is superior and preferred. But we’ve found solutions that work for all parties. You’ll see. Just ahead…”
After a few moments, our horses round a bend and break into a wider thoroughfare that climbs up the slope of a hill.
Davide lifts his hand and points toward a large building structured almost like a temple, with tall windows and a large arch dominating its facade. Hanging from the crest of the arch is a bright red lantern that paints a long stretch of the street in its color.
“That is an establishment where humans can voluntarily sell their blood and are compensated generously for their service.”
My hackles rise. So this is the thin veneer of civility they’ve painted on top of the brutal truth. They have these humans whoring themselves out as blood bags.
And what’s to keep the Siphons from taking what they want any time? These complacent-looking humans would be sitting ducks.
Davide has the nerve to look entertained by my distaste. “Blood is also available for purchase in most markets,” he notes, “although fresh is always best.”
Something’s been bothering me. “What of unwilling Nocturnans? Like children? We know their blood is powerful for you, considered valuable.”
Elias has slowed to listen to our conversation, and he scowls. “Drinking from a child is a crime, both legal and moral.”
Meryn and I exchange looks. We know the Nabbers in Sturmfrost were working at the behest of the king, but still…
“Stark and I were part of an operation into Astreona a few months ago. There was an old temple at the border. It was mostly abandoned when we arrived, but it was clear children had been kept there.”
A line forms at Elias’s brow. “A temple… Oh! Yes, we rescue Nocturnan orphans.”
Meryn’s face flushes, and my hand tightens around the dagger at my hip.
“Excuse me?” she says, voice low and tense. “You what?”
Davide crosses his arms. “Just as he said. Look around you. You know what your own country is like. When we find Nocturnan orphans at the front, we rehome them with families in Astreona. It is better for them.”
Rage washes through me. The fucking gall.
Meryn, to her credit, doesn’t immediately stab them. Her mouth flattens into a thin line. “Right. Your king and I will be discussing that, then. My citizens belong to my country.”
“Every word of this could be a lie,” I caution Meryn.
“Obviously,” she says, her response testy. I wonder if she’s filled with regret about what happened between us, too. “But it’s still helpful to understand the lies they wish to tell.”
Meryn’s very familiar with lying Siphons, of course. I don’t need to remind her to be distrustful.
“How do Siphons control themselves?” she asks. “I mean, specifically, keep from turning all the human donors into Siphons as well.”
He laughs. “You make it sound…” Davide’s amused smile fades. “Ah. Apologies. You truly know very little.”
“I know some,” Meryn says. Her voice stays light, but her body tenses, violence only just suppressed. “But I’d wager that neither of us knows much about the other’s culture. So perhaps you could keep your opinions on my knowledge to yourself.”
Davide is silent, and Elias breaks in smoothly. “Please accept my apologies on behalf of Davide, Your Highness. We will endeavor to answer your questions without further comment.”
Or what, I wonder? How would Davide be punished for souring the negotiations between Meryn and their king before they start?
I entertain myself by imagining several lethal options.
Davide looks as if he’s smelled something rotten, but he answers the question regardless.
“Transforming humans into Siphons is actually quite rare and strictly regulated. There would be no logic in converting our primary food source, and maintaining proper population balance is considered essential to Astreonan stability.”
Meryn scoffs. “Big words from an army that transforms our Nocturnan soldiers into bloodsuckers at whim.” I know she’s picturing her father’s face and remembering the stories I’ve told her of our own soldiers turning against us at the front, ripping apart my comrades with their teeth.
“We sometimes transform grievously wounded Nocturnan soldiers like your father, but otherwise, becoming a Siphon requires formal application and approval through established protocols. And field transformations are evaluated and documented for population records. Of course, accidents do happen, especially in the heat of battle,” Davide says stiffly.
Meryn and I are quiet as we both take that in.
Everything we’ve ever been taught about Astreona was deliberate misinformation carefully constructed and maintained by generations of Nocturnan rulers. Rulers who were actually Siphons themselves, all controlled by Alistair.
And all with the aim of rallying Nocturnans against Astreona.
There’s so much we don’t know. How can we possibly stay on even ground in any negotiations between our kingdoms?
While my thoughts churn, we reach the market Davide was speaking of, and each of us dismounts their horse. Elias hands a coin to a young boy waiting at the entrance to the square, and he leads our horses away.
“Feel free to wander, Your Highness,” Elias says smoothly. “Our streets are safe for you, though I recommend you stay close so as not to get lost. We’ll meet you back here in a short while.”
“Should we be worried that they’re going off alone?” I ask Meryn.
“No, fuck them. I want to explore.”
Elias and Davide step into the market, headed for an awning marked in red. As they begin to haggle, their words blending with the sounds of other market-goers, I turn to Meryn—only to see her stalk off down a side lane.
Maddening woman. What now?