Authors: Hazel Hunter
Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense, #Witches & Wizards
T
he next morning
dawned uncommonly gray and dreary. It was high summer in Tenebris, but sudden changes in weather could happen. Whatever its cause, it suited Galia’s mood. She allowed herself to be dressed in a beautiful silk gown of sky blue. The slippery folds draped over her like water. She pinched some of the silk between two fingers, seeing it as though for the first time. She knew it’d been brought from a far corner of the world, across empty land and mountains, only to end up adorning a slave’s body.
We don’t choose our slaveries,
she thought,
but some of us do better than others.
She went to find Rhea, and they finalized their plans for the bread. To Galia’s pleasant surprise, the bread deliveries could begin right away.
“You work fast,” she said to Rhea, who dimpled with pleasure.
“I couldn’t afford not to,” she admitted. “The Oracle said that whenever you were done with me, I was to send you on to her.”
Galia flinched. As the date of the Longest Day drew closer, she grew more worried. Though the power was seductive, she sensed––as with everything in Tenebris––it would come at a price.
Rhea patted her hand in sympathy.
“Here, come with me. I’ll have the kitchen pull together a tray for the two of you. That will help.”
Galia had only had a bit of bread and milk, and realized she was starving.
“Thank you again, Rhea,” she said, hugging her. “I don’t know what I would do without you.
“Starve, most likely. Now come along.”
The kitchen prepared a tray of black olives, soft white cheese and cured salmon. The latter was a popular delicacy in the city at the moment, and it gleamed orange and delicious on its bed of greens. Galia decided that Rhea was right. Hunger drove away nerves, and food would drive away hunger. A young girl carried the tray and a carafe of lemon water to the Oracle’s room with her. Galia knocked.
“Come in.”
Galia opened the door. But what she saw when she stepped inside destroyed her appetite. The Oracle sat at the small table at the window, her wolf resting easily at her feet. Standing at attention and dressed in a tunic of red silk was Strayke.
Somehow, Galia managed to step aside to let the girl lay the table. She took her accustomed place across from the Oracle. If she turned her head to the side, she would see Strayke standing right there. She did not turn her head. She barely breathed.
“Thank you, that will be all.”
The Oracle dismissed the girl absently before serving herself a small amount of the cheese and salmon.
“Hmm, delicious. Galia, will you not join me?”
There was something about the calculated innocence of the Oracle’s tone that made Galia wary.
“What game are you playing?” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “What do you want with him?”
The smile on the Oracle’s face could have meant anything. She wore it right before she ordered a man hung high on the walls. She wore it right before she praised Galia for mastering something.
“I think you should eat. It’s an old saying that when you are at war, you should never pass up on a chance to eat or sleep.”
“Am I at war now?” Galia asked, her spine rigid. “Is that what this is?”
The Oracle’s laughter was light.
“You are jumping at shadows. I take it the presence of Commander Strayke here has upset you.”
As if she had been given permission, Galia turned to him. With his dark hair and light eyes, he was still every bit that man who had come to her and Mina’s rescue on the ship. But like Mina, he had put on muscle. Terrible scars were on his arms, and she knew that they would be under his clothes as well.
When she looked up at his face, it looked utterly impassive. It was so familiar and so remote that she could have cried.
“I am not jumping at shadows,” Galia said, her voice strained. “As you well know.”
“Indeed I do,” the Oracle said, as she broke off a bit of bread. “How could I forget the day I met you, when you made that choice?”
Galia stiffened. The wound that had opened when she’d first seen Strayke in the courtyard, cracked wide.
“What do you want?”
“The same as always,” the Oracle said, popping an olive in her mouth. “Really, Galia,” she said around it. “Have you learned nothing?” She took out the pit and set it aside. “Your initiation into the role of Oracle will be conducted in just a few days.”
“On the Longest Day, yes.”
“You will submit to the Goddess in the deepest part of the palace, in the subsanctum.” She nodded at Strayke. “Your sacrifice will be the Commander.”
Galia started out of her seat. She hit the edge of the tray, and the only reason it did not go spinning was because the Oracle steadied it with her hand.
“Sacrifice? What are you talking about?”
The Oracle’s face was serene.
“The sacrifice is dedicated to the Goddess. She is the one who decides. On the shortest night of the year, you will travel underground. When you return, you will be initiated into the great mysteries.”
“What sacrifice?” Galia snarled, her voice rising. “Speak plainly.”
“I speak like an Oracle,” she replied. “A sacrifice is required, and he is yours.” The shock of the words reverberated through her, and Galia swayed. “There are things you can hide from me,” the Oracle said, conversationally. “There are things you can fight. There are even times when you can defy me. Trust me when I say that this is not one of them.”
“Priestess,” Strayke said quietly.
Galia gasped as if she’d been whipped, and turned to him.
“I know my duty to Tenebris,” he said. “I go as a willing sacrifice, as the Oracle has asked me to be.”
“Do you think I would let something so important to you slip away?” the Oracle asked. “Do you think that I did not keep track of the commander? He has had wealth and power, but now he will pay the price. On the shortest night of the year, he will serve you.”
With horror, Galia looked into Strayke’s face. It was serene and serious.
She couldn’t even cry. Numbly, she sat back down in front of her mentor. She listened to the Oracle describe the proceedings up until the Longest Day. And all through the meeting, Strayke stood at their sides.
• • • • •
T
he next few
days sped by. The bread for the outer city was a sensation. Messages of thanks and pledges of service poured in. As much as that warmed Galia, her heart was in turmoil. Now that Strayke was in the palace, she heard his name everywhere. He was a fierce warrior who had won gold and glory across far lands. He was a faithful commander to the city, and his rise over the past five years had been nothing short of meteoric. She heard talk of him, but never saw him. There were whispers that he was being prepared for the Longest Day.
Though Galia had tried to keep her doubts to herself, the Oracle had either seen it or divined it.
“You are still afraid,” the Oracle observed as they sat in her sun room. “Why?”
Galia looked at the Oracle, tired of the games. She wondered if she should simply hold her tongue, but she didn’t have the energy even for that.
“I am torn,” she said finally. “And it is your doing.”
“It is,” the Oracle agreed, as though it was the first time Galia had made sense. “The Goddess calls you. I can sense it. We all can. She will call forth the greatness in you.”
“And if I don’t want to heed her call?” asked Galia.
The Oracle narrowed her glance. “You speak blasphemy.”
“Do I?” Galia said, her own frankness surprising her.
Weariness and worry had worn her filters thin. But something in the Oracle’s face said Galia had stumbled on something. Then it occurred to her.
“She can be denied then,” Galia said, musing on the observation.
For just a moment, it looked like the Oracle was going to slap her.
“You are a foolish child,” the Oracle proclaimed coldly. “Be grateful I don’t have you whipped raw, and let you go to the unknown like an unruly slave.”
“That’s what I am, though.”
“Not in front of the Goddess.” She stared out the window, and waved her hand in Galia’s direction. “Go.”
When Galia left, her mind buzzed with scattered thoughts. But there was one idea among them to which she repeatedly returned: it was possible to defy the Goddess.
T
he morning
of the Longest Day dawned bright and hot. The palace’s doors had been thrown open so that all the citizens of Tenebris, great and small could wander through. The air was rich with the smell of exotic incense and roasting meat. Galia, who was fasting, felt starved, but that was good. It would keep her sharp in the hours to come.
Mina had been unable to sneak away the night before, but she managed to drag Galia into an alcove before the ceremony. She smothered Galia’s mouth in a quick kiss before hugging her tight.
“I love you,” Galia said, clutching her. “I love you so.”
Mina’s smile was confident.
“I love you to the end of the world and beyond it.” Mina separated from her, and held her at arm’s length. “Come back to me.”
As quickly as Mina had found her, she was gone, losing herself in the crowd. Though it pained Galia’s heart, she knew Mina only meant to spare her a tortured goodbye. Even so, amidst the revelers flowing around her, she’d never felt more alone.
The shrine of the Goddess lay at the heart of the palace. As she neared it, the crowds thinned, until the final few corridors down which she turned were empty. But in the last hall, outside the high metal doors, stood two guards. At the sight of her, they came to attention, but they did not touch the doors. As the chosen of the Goddess, that was Galia’s duty. She opened the double doors to a space that was more like a rock-hewn cave than a room. Waiting for her at the far end was the Oracle and Strayke.
Strayke stood at attention, and wore his armor and mask again. Somehow it was fitting that he went clad for battle. The Oracle was dressed in the sacred black of her office. Her face was no more expressive than Strayke’s mask. Galia wore only a plain, white silk gown, and no sandals.
“You are called by the Goddess, and now you will journey underground. As you travel below, we offer you the protection of the willing sacrifice.”
“I am here,” Strayke said, his resonant voice filling the chamber with the ritual words. “I will serve, and I will lay down all for you,”
Galia swallowed.
“I undertake this journey for the city of Tenebris and for the heart that follows the Goddess.”
The Oracle nodded, and Galia strode forward. She turned to a trapdoor in the ground next to her. Though it looked heavy, the Oracle moved it easily. Descending into the depths below, there were steps carved into the stone and eerie blue witchfire that clung to the walls. Galia took a deep breath and started down. As she passed her mentor of the past five years, the Oracle looked on impassively. She heard Strayke’s boots behind her. In unison their footsteps tread downward until Strayke’s head must have descended below ground level, because the trapdoor closed above them. Galia jerked at the sound, but luckily stepped down to the landing at the same time. Ahead was a smooth, stone corridor, twice as broad as the stairs behind them, with just enough blue light to show the way. It sloped downward at a gentle incline.
“Did you think of me?”
The words startled her. She came to a halting stop, and turned to Strayke. In the space of a heartbeat, all of the fears of the past five years suddenly confronted her. Though she trembled with the awful weight of her burden of guilt, she was shocked at a feeling she hadn’t anticipated: relief.
“Yes,” she whispered, staring at him.
“I thought of you,” he said. There was a roughness to his voice. He took a step closer. “I thought of both of you every night. I don’t know what else to call it but love. I thought of you when I was killing. I thought of you when I was going to be killed. I tried to blur your faces with other women, other men. It never worked, and I realized it was because I didn’t want it to.”
“How can you say that?” Galia whispered harshly. “I betrayed you. I let them take you. I chose Mina.”
“Was it because you loved me less?”
Gods, the pain in his voice! Tears sprang to her eyes. Any words she would have spoken were trapped in her constricting throat. She furiously shook her head.
“If Mina had been separated from you,” Strayke said, “she would have died.” Hot tears streamed down Galia’s face, and he took a step closer. “I wanted you both to live. I wanted you both to remember me. That was what I needed.”
“And now you are here as my sacrifice,” Galia choked out.
“It was meant to be,” Strayke said. “From the moment I saw you, I think I knew.”
“Oh gods,” she whispered, throwing her arms around him.
She didn’t know whether to beg his forgiveness, or damn him for coming back. In the end, she only clung to him and wept. He held her tenderly against his armor and gently stroked her back, until finally the tears slowed and ended. As he took her hand and they faced the bleak corridor together, Galia found she also had a deep truth that she knew: she could not give him to the Goddess because she could not lose him again.
• • • • •
T
hey traveled downward
until the ground finally leveled. The passage ahead of them ended in a great double door. It was wood bound with iron, and along the bands glinted rows of precious sapphires. They winked in the dim light like eyes. For a moment, Galia paused. Then she took a deep breath and dropped Strayke’s hand.
“I love you,” Galia said, and approached the door.
The door opened at her touch, and she understood how the Oracle had opened the trapdoor above. The lights in the new chamber were red instead of blue. They ringed the vast and open space. At the rear of the giant cavern was an enormous statue of the Goddess, but she was faceless. Galia shuddered as she gazed on it. She was in the presence of the divine. Strayke inhaled sharply, apparently feeling it as well. At the feet of the statue was a low stone table. That was their destination.
When they drew closer, Galia could see that the table held one object: an ancient, stone knife. Roughed out of a single piece of stone, the edges were wavy and looked painfully sharp. A bone handle was lashed to one end with leather cords. Though Galia halted in front of the table, Strayke fell to his knees. She’d been about to stare at him, when a voice reverberated in her head.
Welcome, daughter.
“I greet you, Great One,” she murmured, gazing up. “I am here to be initiated in the mysteries.”
Woman of power, you have come to stand in my shadow.
“I have,” Galia said.
The words of the Goddess thrummed through her skull. She could feel her there in her bones. This was what the Oracle felt every day, she realized.
I bid you welcome. You will drink from my waters. You will rise among my stars. You will lead my city. You will crush my enemies.
The last made Galia flinch, but she nodded.
“I submit myself to you, Great One,” she whispered. “Do with me what you will.”
The moment she said those words, she could feel a deep and overpowering sensation of strength rush through her. It was exploring her, knowing her, understanding her as a vessel, and then it filled her. Though Galia was grateful that she was still herself, she was herself with the strength of the Goddess. But something else was there as well: a longing so deep that it rocked her. She turned to Strayke.
“I love you,” she whispered. “I need you.”
As if unseen chains had been unlocked, Strayke stood in a daze. With painstaking care, he removed each piece of his armor and clothing. At her nod, he reached for her clothes as well. Despite his size and strength, there was something profoundly gentle about his touch, and the way he pulled the fabric aside. Though she stood naked in front of him, she knew the power was all hers.
The Goddess in her whispered of blood, power, and pleasure, the thoughts irresistible and twisted together.
You are a virgin!
Galia almost laugh out loud. After everything she and Mina had done, it was hardly the word she’d use. But it was true that she’d never been with a man. But Strayke wasn’t just any man. She had connected to him the moment their eyes had met.
She led him to the stone table. As he stood and watched, she traced her fingertips up and down his bare body. She ruffled her fingers through the hair on his chest. She swept her hands along his shoulders and stroked his jugular. When she brushed her fingertips across the tight buds of his nipples, he hissed. He leaned back against the table and gripped the stone, the look on his face nothing short of desperate.
The Goddess in her didn’t care. The Goddess wanted both his fear and his desire.
Galia moved cautiously, as if she held a pack of dogs on a leash. She kissed Strayke gently, then ran her lips along his chest and his neck. When she moved close, she could feel his cock pressed between them. The motion made him groan, but she ignored it. She learned his body they way she had learned Mina’s. She took in the lines of him, and the beauty of his scars. He felt like a part of her that had been missing. Below, her hand found his hard, heated shaft, sliding her fingers along it. Strayke moaned.
Slowly, she slipped to her knees. Though his cock was dark and straining for her, Strayke was frozen in place. She lapped experimentally at his shaft and the taut balls underneath. When he groaned, it made her smile. She tasted him at the tip, swirling her tongue underneath the foreskin before pulling his cock into her mouth. She heard his fingernails scrape the stone table.
Galia drew it out, tonguing him, and feeling his response. But as she did, heat gathered inside her. It was so familiar, but it was also strange, because she had only shared this with Mina before. She took as much of him in her mouth as she could. When she pulled back, his cock was slick.
“Lie back,” she said, her voice like many voices together, and no longer her own.
Obediently, he stretched across the table, his head dangling over one edge and his lower legs hanging off the other. Galia was aware of the knife, but ignored it. Instead, all she wanted was to feel Strayke under her body, and then inside it.
Galia lifted herself up on the table, straddling his hips. His hard flesh pressed into her slit.
“Who am I?” she said, in her many-voiced voice, terrible and sweet, demanding his answer.
Strayke raised his head, his delicious jugular pulsing. The Goddess in her needed his sacrifice. Power roiled inside, and she glanced at the knife. It would be so easy.
“You’re the woman I can’t stop thinking about,” he whispered hoarsely. At the unvarnished desire in his voice, the Goddess faltered. “You are the other part of my soul. You’re Galia.”
At his words, Galia felt her heart leap into her throat, staring hard into his glittering eyes. The words were true. He was the other part of herself. She heard the certainty of it as though she’d always known. And in that moment, she was stronger than the Goddess.
“I want you,” she whispered. “Do you want me?”
“Forever,” he swore.
She reached down and took his cock. He groaned as she squeezed it, and lifted it to her opening. The swollen head parted her slick folds, already wet for him. It would be so easy to take him inside. She teased herself, rubbing him along her, until they were both whimpering through clenched teeth. But finally Galia couldn’t take it any more. She sank down on him with a cry of relief, as he filled her. They fit perfectly, the stretch and fullness incredible. Strayke exhaled in a shuddering breath and let his head loll beyond the edge of the table.
Though she took one of his hands, he didn’t look up. Instead his hips bucked upward lifting her. She groaned, reveling in the deeper penetration. As she slid his hand between her legs, her eyes fluttered closed when he found her clit, pressing his fingers against her sensitive flesh.
“Oh yes,” she murmured, shifting her weight.
His hips bucked up against her. His other hand landed on her waist, encouraging her to the ancient rhythm that had claimed him. The pressure rose low in her belly, wondrous and hot. Her hips responded with desperate gyrations, circling and bucking. She couldn’t stop, and his fingers wouldn’t stop.
The Goddess inside her pushed her hard, the pleasure building faster, higher, and hotter. Ecstasy filled her, and she bore down on his fingers. The first shivers of her arousal nearly broke her to pieces, but she wouldn’t give in to them. Instead, she dug her nails into his chest, keening as she fought.
His beautiful body writhed underneath hers. Though he wanted her pleasure, he sought his own satisfaction as well. He thrust harder, plunging upward, grunting harshly as though it was pain. But as the tension in the deepest part of her finally snapped, her climax swelled. The pleasure broke over her like a tidal wave, rocking her to her very core. She felt him climax as well, thickening and jerking, his hips flying upward at a terrible speed. His hot seed shot upward, slapping in to her, threatening to rip her apart.
It was then the Goddess woke in her entirety. Ancient and terrible, powerful and cold, she stretched herself within Galia. Still shaking from her orgasm, Galia opened her eyes. Everything was both sharper and more blurred, shimmering in an opalescent glow. Her eyes were drawn to the knife.
As if in a dream, Galia saw her hand reach for it. When she looked down at Strayke, he smiled up at her. She couldn’t tell if he knew what was coming, but it hardly mattered. He would let her do it. Galia knew that.
Sacrifice him, daughter! Give him to me!
Through contact with the knife, Galia saw every priestess that had ever walked down into this darkness. They flashed in front of her eyes, a wretched parade. She could see the spray of blood, the cooling body taken into the earth.
Drink from my power! Give him to me!
She raised the knife up high. This was how it had to be. This was always how it would end. With his shaft still spearing her, and his seed warm in her belly, Galia brought the knife down.
But with a lurching spasm that tore her spirit from her body, she slammed it down on the stone. With the sound of shattering glass, the knife broke into a hundred pieces. One of them flew through the air and cut her jaw.
No! What have you done? No!