Chapter 8 Helayna
HELAYNA
Still gripping me by my throat, Dorr picked me up, bringing me close so he could drag me back and forth against his broad chest. Glistening alfar oil sank into my skin, stirring the hunger even more.
I gnashed my teeth, jerking against his grip, trying to get my mouth on him.
But as soon as he felt my breath on his skin, he moved me backward. Teasing us both.
Simmering need built inside me. A volcano of pressure, preparing to erupt.
My fangs ached with unrelenting hunger. I needed to bite.
Needed to feel his flesh in my mouth. I struggled harder, flailing in his grip, digging my nails into his forearm, even though I knew I couldn’t get through his thick alfar hide.
Or maybe I could. More essence dripped from his arm, splattering my breasts.
Sending me into a frenzy. I tore at his fingers, loosening his grip enough to slip free.
Immediately, I lunged for his throat. His shoulder.
Chest. Biting him over and over. Wishing I could unhinge my jaws and take his whole shoulder in my mouth.
Seizing my hips in a brutal grip, he slammed up into me on a hard, heavy thrust. My breath rushed out on a groan. His fingers squeezed harder, his body straining against me, pushing so hard and deep I saw stars.
Then he released the spikes.
I shrieked. So loudly I felt a moment of hesitation in our bond. His instantaneous concern.
Until he realized I was climaxing.
So much texture, slipping and rubbing inside me with every breath.
Every grunt and groan. Knobs and sharp pricks, barbs hooking into my tender flesh.
Swelling bigger, harder, until I couldn’t possibly take any more.
I tried to hold on for dear life, but my hands kept slipping in the oil.
I finally grabbed the base of his wings in each hand.
Leather snapped, his wings spread to their full span.
Filling the room, rustling against the walls and ceiling.
His breathing roughened, his chest shuddering against me.
So I rubbed the flesh around the base of his wings, running my fingers up and down the shafts sprouting from his shoulders.
Squeezing and teasing like I’d do his cock or balls if he wasn’t already inside me.
He sank his teeth into my shoulder, making my entire body twitch. Not just two fangs but what felt like thousands of shark-like teeth. My blood filled his mouth, and he spasmed, his fingers convulsively squeezing my hips. Pinning me while all those barbs and knobs grated inside me.
A low rumble rattled the glass in the windows.
His wings arched even higher, battering against the ceiling.
I locked my mouth on one of my bites and drank.
Sucking down his essence as fast as I could swallow.
Pulling hard with my mouth and throat, creating a tidal wave of pure blackness flowing through me.
His climax spiced the flavor of his essence, pushing the taste from thick honey made from night-blooming flowers to darker molasses laced with bourbon, cinnamon, and cloves.
Thick, delicious warmth, black as a starless, moonless night.
His wings enfolded me, carrying me higher.
Out over the dark seas, blending with the empty sky.
Waves crashed and rumbled below. Above. As we tumbled into oblivion.
Struggling to breathe, I opened my eyes, but I still couldn’t see. He crushed me beneath him. Though that didn’t stop me from still drinking his essence. He flowed into me like a secret spring at the base of Yggdrasil. Unblocked. Infinite power.
Simply waiting for me to tap it.
SVAR
The scents of blood and sex thickened the air. Pausing in the doorway to my queen’s bedchamber, I breathed deeply, relishing the scene—but also locking down the darker urges it stirred.
The two newer Aima Blood were still out cold, lying partially on top of each other.
If the bear continued to snore as much as he talked, he’d find himself dropped into the ocean.
The rest of what had originally seemed to be a massive bed was covered by Dorr.
He sprawled like a fallen giant, his wings jammed up against the ceiling and window on one side of the room and the floor on the other.
I couldn’t see anything of our queen except the tips of her toes peeking out near the edge of the bed.
Despite the carnal devastation tossed about the room, her hunger still burned in the bond. Quickening my steps to her side, I gathered up his wing, folding it aside so I could heave him over onto his side. His other wing still draped over the bed like a curtain, creating a dark, close space.
Our queen still fed, her pale body pressed to his chest. Though she watched me, her eyes glittering like blackened emeralds in the darkness.
“I’m here, my queen.” Inwardly, I winced. Of course she knew. She saw me. I had hoped—
Her eyes closed slowly in a sleepy blink. Disappointment welled. Perhaps it was for the best. With Dorr out cold, I wasn’t sure Myrk would be able to control me.
:Transform to your natural form,: she said in my mind.
Immediately, the dark alfar bulged out of this fragile human body, a nightmare wave of teeth and claws that could not be denied.
Licking her lips, she released Dorr and scrambled toward me across the mattress.
Dropping to my knees beside the bed, I shuddered with bliss as she bit me.
She gripped the top ridge of my shoulder in her jaws and ground her teeth back and forth, working my thick hide.
:I didn’t know it would feel so good to bite. Goddess, I feel like I could maul you.:
Guilt thudded in our bond before I could suppress it. :My apologies, my queen. That very well might be my fault.:
She paused, lifting her head, much to my regret. Searching my eyes, she reached up and cupped my thick, distorted alfar face in both hands. :Show me.:
I released an endless sigh of sorrow, for she would surely send me back to Niflhel once she knew the truth of my being. Yet I would never deny her.
All I had to do was close my eyes.
Infinite darkness swelled inside me, spilling into her bond.
Falling. Deeper. Until there was nowhere else to sink.
The lowest of the low, the darkest pit of Hel.
Raucous rumbles vibrated the air and black rock beneath my claws.
Licking essence from my talons, I crouched in the bottom of a glistening black stone well, waiting for my next conquest. Days, years, who knew how long I waited, for here, time was meaningless.
Narrow, concentric levels rose around the pit, providing ledges for other alfar to perch and watch.
They stomped and pounded and bellowed, chanting my name.
Svar. The Endless Slough.
Named not for the primordial ooze from which I crawled but the pits of black blood and alfar essence into which this ring sank. A black bottomless ocean of death, created by slaughtering others of my kind. Legends said we were immortal, but we could die if enough damage was dealt.
I was an expert at slaughtering that which cannot die. If we lost enough essence, the body slowed and weakened. Eventually we failed to regenerate. If enough flesh was torn apart… Or better yet, devoured…
The body disintegrated into the pits and became part of the Slough.
Another alfar dropped into the pit, already screaming.
Fear. Rage. I wasn’t sure. Most of the warriors in the rings were here of their own volition but sometimes a weaker, younger alfar was tossed into the pits for fun.
Something different. Not a challenge—but a diversion.
After millennia, we’ve seen all the ways we can kill and fuck one another.
Kill by fucking. Fuck by killing. They were one and the same.
We were bred for killing, but I had developed a taste for it. A hunger for death. Flesh in my gut. Essence on my hide. My cock destroying my victim from the inside out while I feasted.
Once I was the young, weak alfar tossed into the pit for the amusement of others.
Now I amused only myself and savored every victory.
My opponent was bigger than me. Since we never stopped growing, he must be older.
Perhaps a true challenge had fallen to me.
Though I wasn’t sure why he continued to scream.
I couldn’t hear exactly what he yelled over the din and clamor surrounding us.
It didn’t matter in the end. I had killed far larger opponents than him.
Besides, words would never quell the thirst burning inside me.
The need to feel. Even pain. Taste. The only sensations left to me in infinite darkness.
I could already taste his flesh in my mouth.
His bitter essence as I tore into his broad chest, seeking the core.
We didn’t possess hearts or organs like living creatures but there was a single black seed of Ieunn’s golden apples buried deep in the sludge.
The only thing that tasted different from everything else in this hellscape.
He didn’t wrestle me for dominance. He didn’t knock me aside.
He didn’t try to avoid my cock, even though I was famous for the way in which I used it.
I took him down to the black, slick stone.
Pinned him. Sheathed deep. Making myself wait before tearing him asunder with blades and spikes I’d grown over countless battles.
Don’t kill him too quickly. Make him last. Feast.
His mouth pressed to my ear. “It’s me.”
“It’s me,” reverberated in my head.
Though I still didn’t comprehend who lay beneath me. I lifted my face from the hole I’d made in his chest. Looked him in the eyes.
Dorr stared back at me.
Horror choked me. Shame blacker than the darkness from which we’d crawled.
A friend. No, a brother, if a nightmare like me dared claim such kinship.
Bigger, more powerful, far older, he could have throttled and fucked me into submission before making himself known to me.
But he’d known indulging in an attack would only stir my bloodlust.
He took no pleasure in killing. Fighting. Or fucking, for that matter. I honestly did not know why he’d come to the pits at all.
Now that he had my attention, one of his big hands clamped around my nape. His other thick arm locked around my waist and his claws sheathed in my side. Pinning me to him. Forcing me to hold his gaze. My image reflected back at me in his shining obsidian eyes.
“Choose.”
He didn’t elaborate. I knew. I felt the strength and might bulging in his body. He would crush my spine, pop my head off and shred me in half. Putting me out of torment. Or I could leave the pits and never return.
I’d left before. But my hunger always pulled me back.
Finality gleamed in his eyes. He’d come to fetch me one last time. If I slipped again… he would never return. I would never see my brother again.
Go with him. Or die in the Slough that made me.
There was no choice.
I laid my head on his chest. All the fight bled out of me.
Gathering me close, he flipped to his feet and sprang into the air.
His wings snapped open, buffeting the deep walls of the pit.
Onlookers roared and bellowed, furious their favorite killer was leaving.
They tore at his wings, trying to shred the leather so he couldn’t fly.
They leaped off the perches, flinging themselves at us.
Weight dragged on my legs. Claws and teeth pulling me down.
Back to the Slough.
I would never escape. Not this Darkness. And now my brother would die here too.
A piercing shriek rolled from his chest, rising higher to a painful pitch.
Waves of agony flooded the infinite space, rising higher and higher.
A brutal, shrill weapon of sound. My entire body went limp, shorted out by the vicious frequency.
Bodies thumped to the rocks. The rings fell silent for the first time in millennia.
While Dorr of the Black Mountain soared above the Endless Slough.
Remembering the sound of his shrill cry deadened my body again. I slumped forward. Falling. Unable to see or feel. I could only hope I wouldn’t crush my queen when I fell.