Authors: A.C. Warneke
Celeste twisted her head and saw
Adam standing there, staring down at the woman for a long moment. Indecision warred on his handsome face as love and hatred for the wretched woman played out their roles. He took a step towards the dying Queen, falling to his knees by her side as tears welled in his eyes. In that moment, Celeste knew she had lost.
She
wanted to tell him, to warn him, that he shouldn't heal the Queen, that it would be his death if he did, but she didn't have the strength. She took a shuddering breath, closing her eyes once more. It was unbearable and she couldn’t watch her beloved Adam choose the former Queen; well, current Queen, since she was about to die. Wow, Queen for all of five minutes; that had to be the shortest reign in the history of any monarchy.
She doubted there were many Queens who came to as painful and bloody end as she had either. Oh, there were a few: Marie Antoinette, Anne Boleyn, but their reigns had lasted much longer. And everything Celeste had done was for naught; the Queen would heal, she would become more powerful and make her sons' lives even more miserable.
Celeste heard the slurping sound of the dagger being pulled from the Queen's chest and she sucked in a pained breath. In a few more heartbeats is was all going to be over; she was going to be killed by the man she loved, the man she betrayed to save his brother. Auberon was going to be lost but not forever, not forever.
A tear leaked from her eye, mixing with the blood and sweat on her skin, and she held her breath, waiting for the final blow to come, praying for it to be over with soon.
“No!” the Queen screeched and Celeste’s eyes shot open to see Adam kneeling in front of her. Fear and love shone in his beautiful black eyes as he looked down at her. With a smile, she let her eyes slide close; he chose her. In the end he chose her. She could die in peace.
“Celeste,” he breathed her name. She felt his hands drift over her body, the split in her side, the gash in her cheek, the cut
s on her arm, the dozens of scratches, the welts of stings. She heard him cursing under his breath as she winced in agonizing pain. She wasn’t dead yet.
“You came fo
r me,” she breathed, her voice hoarse and pathetic.
“You foolish, foolish girl,” he chided lightly, carefully gathering her up in his arms. “What were you thinking?”
“That you hated me; not that I blame you,” she admitted honestly as every inch of her skin screamed in misery. She felt the floor fall away as he picked her up in his arms, heard the beat of his heart as he cradled her against his strong chest. Softly, so softly, she wasn’t sure he would hear, she whispered, “I love you, Adamanteros; so much. I love you.”
*****
Her head fell back and her body went limp in his arms, her chest rising and falling with each feeble breath she took. With grim determination, he carried her out of the former Queen’s inner sanctum, ignoring the sniveling mass of flesh as he passed her. He was surprised to see a group of
Apocritae
standing in the throne room as he passed through the hidden door. Ignoring them, knowing it would be easy enough to deal with them if they decided to attack, he carried Celeste to the chaise, gently laying her down on the soft cushions. He wanted to weep when she flinched, whimpering in her unconsciousness.
A bold
Apocritum
approached, a man Adam recognized as one of his mother’s most devoted servants. Nervously twisting his hands together, he strained his neck to look at Celeste. “Is she….”
“She’s alive,”
Adam said, ready to smash his fist into the man’s face should he make the slightest sign of distress at hearing that news.
“Thank the gods,” he sighed in evident relief.
Adam took a moment to look at him. He saw the whites surrounding his black eyes and growled, “Did you bite her?”
“No, my lord, never!”
The man’s eyes widened in terror in the face of Adam’s fury and he took a step backwards, holding his hands up in appeasement. “The first time I tasted her had been when a human slave brought a vial of her blood to the Queen, the old Queen. The second time was when she was chained in this very room and the manacles had scratched her skin. I would never bite the Queen.”
Adam
frowned as the other
Apocritae
inched closer. Carefully, he pulled the torn t-shirt up, exposing the ugly gash that marred Celeste’s perfect side. Bending his head, he was annoyed to hear the
Apocritum
ask, “And the old Queen?
“Dead,” he
answered coldly, bluntly, bending his head and running his tongue along the worst of her wounds. He heard her sharp intake of breath and felt her shudder but he continued to heal her. As bodies bumped him, he became aware of the other
Apocritae
moving in, licking her wounds, worshipping her. He wasn’t going to lose her.
When the cut across her cheek was healed, the slice along her upper arm was fixed and the gash along her side was closed, he saw her fingers twitch and he sighed in relief. Her eyelids fluttered open and he smiled down at her, the bewildered look in her beautiful, luminous eyes. Splatters of dried blood marred her face but she was the most
magnificent thing he had ever laid eyes on. “Hey, there, beautiful.”
She looked around at the
Apocritae
tending to her wounds before letting her gaze settle on his, “I survived? I won?”
“You survived, my Queen,” he murmured, bending forward and kissing her forehead. “You won, my Queen,” he added, kissing the tip of her nose. His breath shuddered out of him and he closed his eyes, “I thought I lost you, Celeste; I’m so sorry.”
Her eyes searched his as his face hovered just above hers. Reaching up, ignoring the grunt of protest from whatever
Apocritum
was licking her fingers, she touched his beautiful face. “I’m forgiven?”
“Like I told you, there’s nothing to forgive,” he breathed, meaning it this time as he bent his head and gently kissed her lips. “I love you.”
Her arm snaked around his neck and she pulled herself up into a sitting position, “You don’t know how wonderful it is to hear you say those words to me.”
“Did you ever doubt it?” he asked, lifting his head and gazing down at her with such adoration and love that it hurt to breathe and she shook her head. The corners of his lips tilted upwards, “Good.”
“Holy Christ, can’t a girl go anywhere without the two of you making calf eyes at one another?” Kim asked, striding towards them as if she hadn’t just completely failed in her duty to protect the new Queen. Nodding her head towards Celeste, she grunted, “There are still quite a few cuts that should be taken care of.”
“Where have you been?” Celeste asked, feeling the air caress her back as one of the
Apocritae
took it upon himself to lift her shirt and heal the wounds inflicted by the over-eager wasps. She tensed as she felt the rasp of several tongues along the sensitive flesh.
“Keeping an eye on you and making sure you didn’t get into too much trouble
before your destined appointment with Fate,” Kim replied nonchalantly. “Whatever were you thinking heading into the House of FAB?”
Celeste’s eyes widened in horror, or admiration, it was a toss-up. “How did you know?”
Kim’s smile was slow as it lit up her entire face. “Celeste, I’m your Guardian Angel; I’m with you wherever you go.”
“But I almost
bled to death back there,” Celeste protested.
“Come on, we both knew
Adam would come through in the end if you won, which you did,” Kim scoffed, dismissing Celeste’s concern with the wave of her hand. “Besides, it was up to you to win or lose, no one else could interfere or your reign would never be recognized; to become the Queen you had to defeat the old Queen; you had to prove your worth.”
Celeste frowned
. Kim must have seen the annoyance in her face because she laughed out loud. “Celeste, you’re chosen; your Fate was yours to win or lose, not mine or anyone else's.”
“I had my doubts
,” she grumbled, snuggling further into Adam’s embrace, a little bit annoyed about the journey she took to get where she was, about everyone she lost. She looked up at Adam and added to that last thought; and those she almost lost.
Suddenly, she was annoyed with the whole situation. Shooing away the lingering
Apocritae
, she struggled to her feet, grabbing Adam’s hand as he helped to steady her. He came to a stand next to her, draping his arm around her waist and pulling her into his body. Looking around at her new subjects, all of whom refused to meet her eyes, she asked, “Did everyone here get some?”
Confused, a few raised their heads, but it was
Ealasayd who spoke, “My Queen?”
Frustrated, annoyed, tired, she rephrased her question, “Has everyone here had some of my blood?”
At her side Adam chuckled, the sound so wonderful to her soul. As the
Apocritae
murmured their affirmative answers, she looked up at Adam. “Can we go home, please?”
“The Council is eager to meet you,” he said, scooping her up into his arms.
“I’m sure there’s time to do that later,” she demurred, looping her arms around his neck. “I really want to climb into bed and sleep for a few hours.”
“Just sleep?” he asked, lifting a dark
blond eyebrow in a suggestive manner.
Lowering her lashes, she blushed, “Not if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Then I only have one request, my Queen,” he rumbled. When she lifted her eyes and looked at him, he smiled darkly, “Never sleep with anyone other than me ever again; you are mine and mine alone.”
“And you are mine,
Adamanteros, my love,” she smiled, pressing her lips to his and teleporting them directly to their bedroom. In Paris where it all began.
Adam
looked around the familiar room, surprise darkening his face as he looked at Celeste, “I didn’t know you had enough power to do this.”
She shrugged, yanking the shirt from his pants and pressing damp kisses to his smooth chest. “Apparently I retain the power if I don’t come.”
“That hardly seems fair,” he growled, yanking the shirt over his head and throwing it across the room. “It is my greatest pleasure to watch your face as you find rapture.”
She smiled up at him as her fingers worked on getting him out of his pants. “I have enough power to last a few days; I think we can get away with a few orgasms, maybe one or two.”
Pulling the tattered shirt over her head, tugging the bra from her body, he grabbed her and tossed her up onto the bed. Her laughter stilled as he climbed over her, holding her colorful eyes with his black ones, “I was thinking maybe two or three dozen, at the very least.”
“I see,” she said solemnly, her eyes dancing with laughter. Grabbing the waistband of her
ruined pants, she pushed them off her hips. Impatient, Adam grabbed them and tore them from her body, throwing them across the room and knocking over an expensive vase, sending it crashing to the floor.
“I also have to make sure we’ve healed all of your wounds,” he murmured, running his tongue along her inner thigh.
Her back arched, as she breathed heavily, “But I don’t have any wounds on my legs.”
“I’ll just have to lick you all over,” he rasped, flicking his tongue along her clit and hearing her gasp. He grinned, “Just to be on the safe side. I love you.”
A New Awakening
The girl opened her hazel eyes, not knowing who she was or where she was at. Turning her head to the side, she saw the pale pink color of the walls, the sterile environment,
the machine that was measuring her heartbeat. A hospital; a private room in a hospital. But why was she in the hospital? She didn’t have any aches or pains; in fact, she felt pretty good; she felt strong. Perhaps she hit her head on something or caught a bug, but she didn’t remember getting hurt or falling ill.
Of course, she didn’t remember anything.
That wasn’t exactly true; she remembered the most fantastic dream she had been having before she woke up. She was fighting this woman, only she wasn’t quite human and the woman didn’t fight fairly. The woman had the strangest eyes: all black, almost like a bug or an alien. In the dream, she remembered being cut, by fingernails and a blade but her body showed no signs of injury.