Chapter 59
FIFTY-NINE
R aucous noise fills my ears. I open my eyes and step away from Ze, my eyes widening as I take in the busy locale. In the middle, people are dancing to the sound of music as a live band demonstrates its prowess with instruments that look uncannily like human ones. To the back, I spot various tables already filled with people, eating and drinking their fill. I can't make out too much, but I think I recognize pies, steamed buns, and potatoes.
To the side, the most popular area of the locale is—the bar. People crowd and elbow each other to get ahead and order faster to get their drinks. There are bottles with all sorts of labels, all foreign to me.
"What's that?" I ask Ze, pointing to the huge barrel hanging from the ceiling and from which the barman pours a drink into a pint mug.
"That is Sizà mead. It is the cheapest and most common type of beverage in Aperion."
"Should I try that then?" I muse pensively.
I turn to him, my eyes widening in shock.
"What happened to you?" I point to his changed appearance.
He runs a hand over his face, threading his fingers through his hair to arrange it.
"I think you have seen what happens when I go out as Commander Azerius. My tattoos are far too recognizable, and since there is not one person in Aperion who does not bear me a grudge, it is safer if I go around as Ze."
"I see. I suppose you are right," I nod.
"Come," he says, leading me by the hand to the bar. Despite his changed look, his appearance is ever as imposing, and as his eyes narrow at the men at the bar, they immediately make space for us. Ze offers me a chair, pulling me close to the bar as he positions himself right by my side, his hand on my back. Withdrawing another pouch from his pocket, he places it on the bar table with a thud, the coins inside clinking loudly and announcing to everyone the contents inside.
The barman takes a look at the pouch, and a wide smile appears on his face.
"What can I bring you, fellas?"
Ze gives him a stare down.
"What is your most expensive drink?" he asks in a condescending tone. He might change his appearance, but he cannot change the inside. I shake my head, amused, as the barman's expression changes at Ze's supercilious countenance.
"We have a wide variety of Aperite ales and liquors as well as otherworldly drinks. The latter are the most expensive, since they are rare," the barman explains.
Ze nods thoughtfully.
"I want to try the Aperite ones," I murmur in his ear.
"Two of the most expensive Aperite ales then," he commands, handing the barman the money. He counts it, nodding at us before going to prepare the drinks.
"You know, expensive isn't always better. We could have gotten the Sizà mead," I tell him.
"Nonsense," he huffs. "I will not buy you a cheap drink. Who do you think I am, human?"
"Hm, the big, bad, and dangerous Commander Azerius, the God Killer whom everyone fears?" I lean in to whisper jokingly.
He nods, pleased.
"You forgot one thing," he interjects. "I am also one of the wealthiest males in the universe. I will not be cheap with you."
"Right, how could I have forgotten that?" I laugh.
He has an obsession with being rich, doesn't he? I wonder if he grew up without money and that's why he puts so much emphasis on it now.
"You should not. There is nothing you may want that I could not buy for you. You need only say so."
"Why, thank you, Ze. That's very nice of you."
His eyes positively sparkle at hearing the word nice, his lips curling up in a smile.
The barman slides the drinks in front of us. Ze grabs them, nodding for me to go to one of the tables in the back.
"But I like it here," I blink innocently.
His features tighten.
"I do not. There are too many people brushing against you," he says as his arm shoots out to block a drunken man from stumbling into me. "Too many males ."
"But—"
"Come," he declares, somehow holding on to both glasses with one hand while dragging me away with the other. I release a small sigh as I follow him to the back where there are no empty tables—momentarily. Somehow, when people see him, they jump out of their seats and offer their table to us, an obsequious expression on their faces as they barely dare to meet his gaze.
Ze grunts. He slaps the glasses on the table before he pulls a chair for me and not so gently raises me in the air and places me on the seat.
"Now, this is good," he hums to himself.
People stare at us. Regardless of whether he has longer hair and tattoos, Ze's presence creates the same type of awe and fear in people. Their whispers are drowned by the live band, but their scathing gazes don't escape me.
"I'm very curious how this compares to Earth drinks," I mention with a smile as I pull my glass toward me. The liquid is a light amber color, similar to unfiltered ale. Before I can taste it, though, Ze gives me a warning glance as he snatches the glass from my side, taking a big gulp.
"Not poisoned," he declares.
I smile indulgently at his thoughtfulness and bring the glass to my lips, taking the first sip.
"Oh, but this is quite sweet," I exclaim in surprise. A small sip turns into a bigger one. Well, this is a type of alcohol I wouldn't mind having every once in a while.
"It is, indeed, not bad," he murmurs his appreciation, already downing half his glass.
"Thank you again for today, Ze. You have no idea how much that meant to me." I feel compelled to let him know again just how much his gift impressed me. From that first stab of a knife, a sense of freedom unlike any other had enveloped me, making me feel light and carefree for the first time...ever?
He smiles into his glass as he takes another sip.
"You are very welcome. I assume this gives me bonus points?" He raises a brow.
I roll my eyes at him. Of course he would bring that up. But not even his outrageous demands can ruin the marvelous mood I have right now.
Taking another sip of my ale, I nod.
"Yes, you can have a thousand points." I giggle. "You deserve them."
His eyes momentarily widen in disbelief before he empties his drink, slamming it on the table. Determination shines in his features as he gazes at me.
"You cannot take it back. I am in possession of a thousand points now and they are mine to use as I see fit," he declares. "One hundred are going toward my debt, which means I now have nine hundred left, which amounts to nine boons. And I will have my boons, human," he warns.
"Of course." I smile lazily. "What do you want?"
He bites his lip as he considers my question.
"I will think about it."
I nod, the same languid smile perpetually on my face now. Maybe I shouldn't have drunk the alcohol so fast and on an empty stomach. My limbs feel like jelly.
Somehow, time passes without me realizing it, and the drinks flow just as easily.
Ze grabs us second rounds, then a third and fourth.
At the fifth round, I'm close to sleeping on the table but still a happy idiot.
My arms are cushioning my head as I rest my entire upper body weight on the table, my eyes fluttering closed before I open them and remember I'm not in my bed and thus not allowed to fall asleep.
"Say, Ze," I slur my words. "Do you know what A.S.L. stands for?"
He frowns.
Placing his arms on the table, he props his head on his hands, suddenly at my eye level. The distance between us has suddenly shrunk to the point that my nose almost touches his.
Heat climbs my cheeks.
He appears unbothered by the proximity as he stares at me.
"Where have you seen that?"
"Some document in the library," I mumble a small lie.
He nods pensively.
"I do not know exactly what it stands for, but it is how Supremes sign themselves in official documents. The first letter is the House, the second letter stands for Supreme, and the third letter for their given name. But there are three Houses that start with the letter A, including Arche. As for the last letter, I could not say unless I had the document in front of me to peruse."
Damn, how is the man still so eloquent after so many drinks?
I squint to make out his features. But is it any wonder that he's immune to alcohol, too? After all, he's immune to poisons and his own blood is a poison. There's probably nothing that can hurt him.
"I see."
At least it's something. Why would a Supreme send me a letter hundreds of years ago? Maybe they could see into the future?
Before I can blink, Ze slides yet another round in front of me. My nose scrunches in disgust as I eye the foul concoction. Sloppily, I shake my head at him.
"No more."
He shrugs, downing his drink with ease.
A few noises erupt in the background, barely penetrating my close to nonexistent focus. Glancing up, I blink a couple of times as I take in Ze's appearance, convinced I'm too drunk for this.
His tattoos flicker in and out of sight, his hair growing and receding in the blink of an eye as well.
"Ze..." I murmur.
He's still drinking the ale.
"This is, indeed, a very good drink," he mentions as he sips.
I spare a glance to my right, rubbing my eyes for more clarity. Sure enough, people are staring at him, ready for attack. Another glance to my left and the same thing happens.
I gulp. Hard.
"Ze," I repeat, reaching forward and snatching the glass out of his hand. And with my lack of coordination, I end up slapping it across the floor, attracting even more attention to ourselves.
He suddenly snaps his gaze to mine, concern flickering in his eyes.
"We need to go. Dangerrrr," I mumble, waving around the room like a crazy person. I know the words to elaborate, yet somehow my mouth does not want to cooperate with me.
My words sink in and he jumps out of his seat, sending the chair flying in the back. Purple mist dances chaotically around him. Tendrils of pure energy reach forward and strike at anyone attempting to come toward us.
"Dangerrrr," I yell, pointing behind him as someone throws a knife.
A dark tendril leaps in the air, catching the knife before sending it flying back to the person who threw it.
Ze's arm shoots out as he pulls me into his arms, his purple energy simmering around us. It engulfs me in a claiming, protective embrace as I nestle against his chest.
Turns out it's not just s’Aperiotes who frequent this establishment but also gods. Ze masterfully evades all the energy blasts before he whispers to me to hold on as he flashes us out of there.
We appear in my room, both stumbling, me because I can't stand straight and him...well, turns out he can't stand straight either. We tumble to the bed, both breathing hard. As we turn to look at one another, we burst out into laughter.
"That was..."
"I suppose I may have had one too many glasses," Ze proclaims, his words slightly slurred.
"So you can get drunk." I laugh.
"I suppose so." He sighs deeply, for the first time faced with his own shortcomings.
His appearance flashes between Ze and Azerius a few more times before he's back to normal, his tattoos marring one side of his face.
I stretch my stiff body as I pull myself higher on the bed so my head rests on the pillow. Ze follows my lead and we both make ourselves more comfortable on the bed as we try to overcome the dire effects of alcohol intoxication.
"If it makes you feel better, this is my first time getting drunk too," I tell him.
His brows shoot up in surprise.
"Your first, my first," he mumbles to himself, his cheeks reddening—though I think it's mostly due to the alcohol. Who would have thought those expensive drinks would be so potent? Certainly going by the taste, they were more like cocktails than hard liquor. I have, at times, drunk hard liquor, but I wouldn't say it's my drink of choice—certainly I've never had more than a few sips here and there. I prefer wine and cider, something I can enjoy without getting intoxicated.
That fancy ale? That's some strong stuff.
As I wiggle around, I find myself constricted by the fabric of my dress. The bodice has a corset built in that's restricting my breathing. The air is too hot, too, a flush enveloping my body. I turn from side to side as I unfasten the buttons on the back of my dress, pulling it down my body and throwing it to the floor with my feet. Since I'm wearing a shift underneath, I don't think this is too inappropriate. I'm still completely covered.
Ze glances at me in surprise.
"It's hot," I complain with a pout. "You can take your shirt off too," I add as I note the sheen of perspiration on his forehead.
He stares at me for a moment before he quickly divests himself of his shirt, throwing it to the floor next to my dress. He's now shirtless, and his half-tattooed torso is equally covered in sweat. And to my chagrin, that only serves to emphasize his muscles more as drops of sweat travel down the pebbled surface of his abdomen.
"It is hot," he agrees, his gaze on me. " Too hot."
I swallow.
Suddenly, it's scorching in here. I fan myself with my hand, pretending to be unbothered while staring at him from the corner of my eye. Somehow, I find it hard to reconcile the Ze I know with the one in front of me—relaxed and laid back like this. He's quite a handsome man, isn't he? He has a boyish smile on his face as he threads his hand through his hair, stray strands landing on his forehead. He inhales and exhales, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His tongue sneaks out to catch an errant drop of sweat. The room just got a hundred degrees hotter.
Goddamn. People should ask the man to model in magazines not kill gods. I'm sure he'd do just as fine in that job—at least he wouldn't be as hated. On the contrary, he'd probably have thousands of fangirls lusting after him...
I frown.
A prick of annoyance spears through me at the thought.
Maybe he's fine as he is. He doesn't need to be in any magazine.
I nod to myself. Yes. He's a good God Killer. He should do what he's best at.
We stay in silence for moments on end, our bodies near but far. Our breaths are the only echo in the room, but they're strangely in unison—not two, but one.
I turn to him, allowing myself to study him in the open. Maybe it's the alcohol that's making me more daring than before, more...comfortable.
"You should smile more often," I find myself saying, stifling a yawn.
"I should?" His long lashes flutter at me.
I nod, dragging myself next to him. Using my finger, I pull on the corner of his lips.
"There. That's better."
He catches my finger, pulling me closer until my chest meets his. His gaze lands on mine, his hot breath brushing against my lips.
I draw in a sharp breath, my heart beating wildly in my chest.
He closes his eyes, leaning forward to breathe me in.
"You infuriate me to no end," he rasps.
"W-what?"
"Why do you have to be so damn beautiful?" he asks on a ragged breath.
His eyes snap open, the purple of his irises becoming a deeper shade that threatens to engulf me whole.
"I... Ze..." I trail off, at a loss for words. "Thank you?" I force a smile, doubt churning in my gut. This is going in the wrong direction, isn't it? We're too close, too... The look in his eyes is not a normal one that a friend has for a friend , is it?
His hands cup my cheeks, holding me in place. Brushing his nose against my own, he grinds his teeth, as if physically in pain.
"I have never known want before. I have never wanted to know it. But you make me want, Luce. You make me want far too much," he whispers, his tone anguished. "Why do you have to be so tempting?"
I open my mouth to speak, but no word comes out. The beat of my heart echoes in my ears, the sound almost deafening. I stare into his eyes, willing myself to reply—tell him this isn't what I meant. That we're friends and we cannot be more—we can never be more. The words that would have come so easily before are now lodged in my throat, including the most important one. I'm married. I may be a widow, but I'm still married.
Tears stab at my eyes as panic overtakes me. Not at his actions, or the position we find ourselves in, but at my reaction. I should not be reacting at all. I should look at him and not see him. Yet the more I stare into those purple eyes that have come to mean so much to me, I find myself utterly speechless.
"I might be immune to all poisons in the universe. But it appears there is one thing I am not immune to," he murmurs softly. "You."
"Are you calling me a poison?" I clear my throat as I attempt a joke, yet my question comes out throaty, inviting...
"Oh, you are the most potent poison of all. And I have yet to taste you." He leans forward, his lips a razor's edge away from mine.
I blink rapidly, the moment stretching across an infinity as my being splits into two—the one before him, and the one after. Indecision cuts at me.
His breath is intoxicating, more so than any alcohol. It washes over me, imbuing me with an exhilarating but ineffable emotion. I lick my lips, still undecided about the course of my actions, for I know that if I take this step, nothing will ever be the same. I will damn myself in a way I would have never fathomed. And yet, I'm tempted.
God forgive me, but I'm tempted.
Even as my husband's visage flashes before my eyes, I waver.
His lips continue their descent toward me, and at the last moment, I half turn. His lips skim the corner of my mouth, brushing against my cheek. The breath leaves my lungs. My hands grip his arms, my nails digging into his flesh. A small whimper escapes me, of rebuttal or encouragement, I don't know.
He takes no notice of the turmoil inside of me. His lips trace a soft line down my neck.
A shiver goes down my back.
I should pull back. Stop this madness.
But I don't. Even as the rip of material reverberates in the room, and even as I feel him kiss his way down my chest. I just hold on to him, drawing blood with my nails from the tension that builds deep inside of me.
Wrapped in his embrace and with his warm lips on my skin, there's an odd sense of peace that washes over me. One that lulls me into comfort and safety. And as I close my eyes, letting myself be pulled into this whirlpool of madness, I find myself lost to a different world.
* * *
T he chirp of birds echoes in the stillness of the valley. Cool drops from the waterfall splash onto the grassy banks, hitting my skin and offering a modicum of refreshment—a break from the scorching heat of the two suns.
I lie back on my elbows, tipping my chin up to bask in the sunlight. It's a rare moment when I get some time to myself—some freedom outside of duty.
"Don't move. Stay like that," a raspy voice calls from behind.
I freeze, my senses suddenly on alert just as a feeling of unease goes down my back. He snuck up on me—again. He is the only being in the entire universe that I am never able to detect in advance.
Now that he's allowed me to sense him, he comes around and lies down on the ground next to me. The grass rustles against his weight and he places his head in my lap, his long black hair draping over the purple of my dress. Instinctively, I thread my fingers through his locks, enjoying the silken feel of them against my skin.
He releases a deep sigh—something akin to a purr as his chest rumbles with pleasure.
"I missed you," he says, capturing my hand and bringing it to his mouth for a kiss.
"I could not get away sooner. I'm sorry," I murmur.
He closes his eyes.
"I'm tired of hiding." He sighs wearily. "I'm tired of not being good enough for you."
"I promised you I'd find a way to break off the engagement, and I will." I purse my lips. "It's just a delicate period and..."
"When is it not a delicate period?" he demands. "Just hearing your name in conjunction with his drives me insane. The wedding of the millennium, they call it." He gives a bitter laugh.
"I cannot simply forsake my duty," I whisper.
"But you can forsake me?" He leans back, giving me a glimpse of those anguish-stricken features.
"I did not come here to fight," I say in a soft voice. "Can we not talk about this now? We have so little time as it is..."
"Why is that? Because I'm your dirty little secret. Because I'm a lowborn bastard, an abomination in the eyes of the Aperite Supremes. Because ? —"
"Don't," I whisper.
"You're ashamed of me," he continues.
I shake my head vehemently.
"I could never be ashamed of you. But there is my position to consider and all those souls that rely on me." I take a deep breath. "You know how I feel about you—only you. I've given you parts of myself I've never given to anyone. I've let you see parts of me not even I knew existed..."
"That's just the thing, Azeya moyou. You belong to me, not him." He grits his teeth. "I've been patiently waiting for you, vowing I wouldn't hurt anyone in your life because you asked me to. But I am slowly dying inside. I cannot stand by and do nothing anymore—not when the urge to end him is all-consuming. Please release me from my vow so I can obliterate his soul."
"I will break the engagement off. I promised you I would. I just need to find the right time when the realm isn't in such turmoil..." My words are cut off as he grabs me by the nape, pulling me toward him until our lips are almost touching.
"If you do not release me from my vow, I shall have to break it," he whispers against my lips.
"You can't... You will get hurt if you do that and..."
"Do you care, Azeya moyou? Do you care if I get hurt?"
"How can you even ask that? Your hurt is my hurt. Always and forever," I say as I cup his cheek.