Feeling her all around him, how drained she was had him pausing any action for precious seconds, he felt her pulling from him, and he’d be damned if he didn’t wish she would drain him dry. No male should ever let his female feel the way she did then. This was his fault, the sleep was too long, the revenge too complicated to steal for her, at least it was more complicated today than it was when she began to rest.
Scorpio was so deep in his own self-loathing that he didn’t notice that the reason he wasn’t feeling her soul as powerfully as he wanted was for a far less dark reason than he first assumed. She was inside of him.
In or out of a mortal body, as long as it’s alive, the body will always make sure you feel what it is going through. It was nature’s way of protecting the absent vessel when no one was on board to guard its livelihood.
To say the least, Scorpio was very aware his jeans had been unbuckled, then his hand had brushed the tip of his glistening cock. Through Toril’s eyes he saw himself, her within devilishly looking back at him as she began to work his body into a fevered pitch.
He narrowed his eyes, a silent way to tell her: game on. Her hands moved over her chest kneading her taught nipples. A volt of power rushed through them both. Their connection was moving them to another level. When his hand moved down to stroke his long length, it was not what either of them saw in the natural.
They saw her soul hovering over his flesh, him staring at her as she commanded his body to bend to her will.
When her hand slid down her stomach, and her legs fell wide, welcoming the touch, they saw him above her, devouring her body with his touch, his eyes, hungry enough to go on and on, dragging her through one sweet misery after another.
To them, they were in two places at once, two couples ravishing each other as they lay side by side. Each striving to be more erotic than the other, driven by the stares of each other, knowing that everything they watched, they felt, was one of the most erotic experiences they had ever shared.
The act could not have come at a better point in their life, for a better reason. Their vibration was growing, exploding beyond where they were, who they were. All at once it wasn’t just their hunger and desire they felt, it was the desire of the entire Throng.
She fisted his cock, using all his strength to do so, his fingers slid through the tiny wet folds of her core, finding the perfect spot, and swayed quickly and easily because he could feel the sensations of her body as his own.
Stroke by stroke the room became hotter and hotter, a point of ecstasy, just before the brink of exaltation that wanted to engulf them, moments in time they never wished to end, and strived to draw out as long as they could. Pulling back only to catch the rush before it fell away. Neither wanted the climax to come, not yet, but both were already silently planning when and how their next hit of each other would come.
Brushes, the sensations of others moving against their flesh, the embodiment of lust that was driven by lives beyond their own led them both to the point of no return. Their bellows of release echoed through the entire mountain. One then two, then three...orgasm after orgasm rushed through them, each was a jolt of power that vaulted them beyond any level of strength they’d had. At least one either of them could remember.
***
Talon's mind was fucked. Really fucked. One second he was facing off with witches and an even crazier ex, then the next he was gone. Gone where? He could only imagine. Death was cold, an odd pause that was so silent you would question if you had ever heard a sound at all. He didn’t hear silence. No matter how much he begged for it, no matter how much he asked powers that he never understood much less relied on, he heard it all.
He could hear the oceans, the waves of fire balanced on pillars throughout the streets. He could hear the voices of others, the rumors about him. Some were calling him the new king. Others called him a traitor they’d all watch die. He tended to believe the latter, especially when he managed to focus his eyes and found himself strapped to a table in a dungeon.
If it was his first time in such a place his soul might’ve pulsed a bit, but he’d been there before. This was Ambrosia showing her strong arm. She liked to drive him to the brink of insanity, taunt him in every way. If there was a female that could make a male hate sex, it was her. Touch after touch he felt his defenses rise, an instinct that had never let him fall for her. No matter how many times he tried to talk himself into it.
Who wouldn’t want a beautiful, powerful woman with legs for days? Surely he could overlook the ass she lacked in time. Right? Apparently not. Even when he forced himself to realize this female had given him a child he could not sway his feelings.
She wasn’t the one for him. He’d known that long before his death and her claim. You can’t give a heart to someone you don’t want.
“Welcome home,” Ambrosia said as her face appeared above his.
Naturally, he spit. It was the only weapon he had. Her thrash of vim was immediate. He laughed when he felt it. He laughed because he still could. He still had a stitch of life in him.
“Where does this hope come from?” she asked him.
Talon languidly swayed his head. Fuck if he knew. Like he had shit to be hopeful for. But what is it they say, leave the party while you’re still having fun? That was pretty much the card he pulled. Life was jamming with action, a new enemy to conquer, if not a secret to uncover around every corner.
“There is something you are not telling me, a secret you have kept,” Ambrosia said as she eyed him, looking deeper into his eyes than she ever had. Like he was more than a possession.
Their banter, her lashes, they were endless and finally powerful enough to send him closer to the sweet silence he was after. All had stilled in his soul. The carnage of his past was overshadowed by the moments of glory. The sorrow of leaving ones he cared for behind was replaced with the joy of ever knowing them. It is better to have lived than to have watched life. Talon had lived.
Somewhere in the dark stillness, an odd sensation came to him, odd simply because he was enjoying it. He told himself he was high on something Ambrosia had done to him, that her touching him, causing any kind of arousal was the sickest of sins. Downright abuse.
But there was something different in this touch, something he had never encountered before. Second by second, stroke-by-stroke his curiosity grew, and for a costly moment he wasn’t so sure the sweet silence he was after was worth it. How could he die not understanding what this sensation was? Would it not haunt his spirit for all of time?
It would, he knew it would. A man who had lived it all could not leave one curiosity behind. Knowing the closer he edged to conscious, it was the closer he moved toward Ambrosia that pushed him to use caution, but still, he moved on.
Erotic sensations were something Talon was not a stranger to. Well, maybe lately, but in general, he knew damn well what it felt like to get off, and often. This was different.
He’d been taught since he became an immortal how to pull power from sex, and how it was one of the purest elements that would strengthen him. This was different. The same, but different.
Closer and closer he edged until all at once he felt like he was drowning in a sensation that was close to ones he thought he was familiar with, but wasn’t. Throb after throb he felt a strength that had long ago left him begin to return. He no longer felt like he had one foot in the grave, but like he had the strength to outrun the reaper for centuries to come.
As his power swelled, he kept trying to grip the strange ingredient in this life potion that was strumming through him. Nothing, in all his experiences could come close to capturing it.
Then in his thoughts, he heard a tender voice say, “This is love, November, our true power.”
The shock of hearing those words vaulted Talon back to wakefulness. His stare stayed pinned on the ceiling as his mind wheeled in every direction trying to understand how in the hell he had tapped into any moment November Scorpio was experiencing. He was damn sure he had stopped all that mad
ness eons ago.
It was a mind fuck to see lives that were not yours, feel emotions that were not yours. A fucking curse he had shut down as quickly as he could. Lying there now, with all that had happened to him, with all the little moments here and there, for the first time he truly questioned if that was the right choice.
In the past, he was sure it was. It had to be because every time he went to tell his witch about what he went through something would stop him. It was the same instinct that had kept him alive through battles that should’ve ended him long before he met Reveca.
From the outside looking in, at this point in his life, he was almost sure he had made a vital mistake, and he had done so because he was too wrapped up in his own head. His end game.
It didn’t take Ambrosia long to sense he was awake. She and two men were crouched around drawings on the floor, lit by red and black candles. More witchy shit!
“Don’t make this hard,” she said in a tender tone, like she gave a fuck about him. “You have given me a family. At the very least I owe you a silent death.”
Talon started to laugh; it was a cold, sinister laugh. And as he did, his essence began to swell. For no reason at all, he not only understood what kind of spell was in progress but how to turn it to his favor. He knew what words to say to both men that would crack their necks. At once, he had the strength to rip through the magical bindings holding him.
Above all, he found the rage and drive he needed to kill this female. An act he never did lightly. Striking down any male for little reason was fine by him on any day of the week, even Sunday! But females, he was sure there was a special place in hell for a man who could hurt them, even with reason.
His morals were overridden by this power inside of him. For the first time in his life, Talon let go. He fell back into himself and let powers, the haunts that had courted him time and time again, surface.
Both his arms broke free, then his legs. The men were at his side saying words in a language he’d never heard, but he managed to counter ones with more of the same. Both men, as predicted, fell to the floor when the words of Talon snapped their necks.
Now it was only him and Ambrosia. Step by step, she backed up, donning her most innocent face.
“No, no,” she said in denial swaying her head. “Fight them, Talon.” She mustered words, and he countered with more, what they were or meant was lost on him. “Fight them! I will show you how to take their power, how to rise. I’ve done it,” she said with quick, nervous nods. “We can fix this now. You can take it all from them. You will rule!”
Deep in himself Talon was smirking, he didn’t need this power running the show to tell him its side of the story. The knowledge was there for him to take in. This woman had slain not only souls bound to her but also another Throng. She was a farce, a weak being who would always fall back on her nature and seek more power.
The irony of it all, not surprisingly, was that her greed was her downfall. She chose the wrong male to fuck with. Step by step, she moved back until she was in the center of the drawings on the floor.
Once she was in place, they were no longer alone. Beings burst from Talon and circled Ambrosia. For the most part, they were all gleaming lights. All but the faces of the ones he knew, Scorpio, Dagen, and...Toril. Yes, he knew her, he remembered now, the campfire, the fight between her and Reveca. Missing pieces started to fall into place inside of Talon, but he had no time to understand them. Not only did he feel a draw in this group of beings, one was pulling him more than the others.
His focus on who or what he felt united with was broken when Toril stepped further in, Talon’s instinct had him reaching to block her, but when his stare settled on her glowing amber eyes, he thought better of his action. This female needed no help, at least not more than they were all giving her.
Toril spoke, calling out ancient names, and as she did bursts of light came from Ambrosia’s chest, they moved from her to the circle of them, spinning through and through. The rush of it took Talon beyond any strength he’d ever known. More names, more bursts of light.
Each would rapidly spin through the others, then crash into Toril. Each one empowered her more, within seconds her voice was so powerful that the stone walls shook with its vibration. The names came slower now. The rush was expected and then savored, which gave Talon a chance to notice the wilted body of Ambrosia. Immortality had been ripped from her, but it was the age of time that was slaying the proud being she once was.
Then without ceremony, she vanished into dust. In the quiet of the moment, Talon glanced at Scorpio and Dagen in question, and then like a starved man went to focus on the source he felt pulling him in this group of souls.
He’d waited too long, each one soared into him, the jolt was so strong and unexpected that the next thing he knew he was sitting up in a bed. He jarred back when he saw Saige’s body an inch from his.
It was when Talon saw Saige that he questioned if he was still dreaming. Saige was not only young, but also innocent once more as her eyes laid closed and her hands were clutched weakly in prayer. Seconds later, she sat up just as quickly as he had—her gray stare pleading to know how he had faired. Talon had enough of witches and haunts, he needed to find a foothold he could cling to, he cast his troubled stare from her and found a familiar face he could trust, Talley.
“You’re not going to believe the fucked dream I just had,” he said to him.
Saige edged back like he was a predator. And Talon would be damned if he didn’t feel like one. He may have looked like a twenty something warrior, but he damn sure hadn’t felt like one in a long while.
In a beat, he was not only standing but at the door. “What are you standing around for? We have a war to win.”
All Talley could do was move his stare to Dust, finding a smirk resting there did nothing to settle the Son’s apprehensions. Any fool could sense how dangerous this ride was about to become.
Acknowledgements
I have long ago recognized one of my many flaws and gifts is that I cannot pretend to like someone I do not. Some might take this action of mine as honesty, others could see it as willfulness that shields me from ever seeing past my current judgment, no matter how right or wrong it may be. I believe it is both and that my standpoint may have taken people out of my path that I would’ve enjoyed being there in the long run. It was entertaining to open this floodgate with Scorpio. To see how he found a family in the mist of an enemy. Where this will lead him could be any number of places that I refuse to spoil for any of you! Until Volume Two lands on your reader, and hopefully long after, take the time to find the blessings lost in the fog of curses. There will always be one, I promise!
Over the past four years, I have published over twenty novels and each of the acknowledgments are moved from one novel to the next. That wasn’t done to take short cuts, but because on this journey I have been blessed enough to keep the same souls at my side. I wanted to take the time with this acknowledgment to state how precious they are to me.
My Creator, for I know this gift and passion for words comes from a divine force that I humbly adore and owe everything to.
My husband, no doubt, deserves some kind of medal! The man is there from the first instant the idea is thought to life, through the long days of writing where I slip into another world. He manages the blessed life we have built, taking care of our little ones, making sure that there is some kind of substantial meal on the table for each of us. He’s a saint when it comes to telling me what day of the week it is, and letting me know that dawn is approaching, and it might be a good idea to get some sleep. He understands that music drives me and is just fine with the same song playing on repeat for days until I have the scene trapped in words. He’s used to having a conversation with me and in mid-sentence, I stop and rush to write a line down. There is no doubt that he didn’t sign up to share his wife with the fictional family that always dances in my mind, but he rocks it all the same. I can’t tell you how amazing it is to have someone want your d
reams as much as you do, someone that never lets doubt creep into your mindset.
My children, they make me smile every day. They are now to the point where they’re all for naming characters, dancing to that same song that plays over and over. They love to joke about ‘mom’s bubble’—they know that mom dreams wide awake and tease me when they have to pop that bubble to tell me something.
Special thanks to Amy Donnelly, Steffini Walker, and Heather Falls for reading through these pages with me!
Readers. I swear to you, to this day it blows my mind that there are people on this earth that I will never have the chance to meet that have shared these stories with me, people who get it, who leave reality and step into my daydreams with me if only for a moment. You humble me. I can’t stress that enough. Thank you so much for taking a chance, giving up your time to read my work.
As you can clearly see, people often think that writers have solitary lives, and in some real fashion we do, but more so than not, the story you are reading was impacted by not only those that walked the publishing line with the writer, but the world at large. Inspiration is everywhere, in every dark and positive moment, in every song, drive, commercial. Everything is inspiration. Life is beautiful, even the dark stressful moments. You just have to find that beauty, and thankfully I have outstanding people in my life that ensure that I notice it each and every day.
Jamie Magee, Stolen Son: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 7)
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends