[The Onic Empire 03] - Sinful Harvest (25 page)

He looked to argue the point, but in the end, perhaps softened by her drained tone, he bowed slightly and left her rooms with his head hung low.

She and everyone knew that very soon, if they couldn’t find a solution, Kerrick would die, possibly even this night.

In the silence of the room, Ariss could hear Kerrick’s slow drawing in and exhaling of breath. Even, steady, almost like a heartbeat, he moved air into and out of his lungs. How much longer would he be able to do so? What horrors were happening to him within the borders of his mind?

Ariss curled next to him, snuggling her body close as she did every night, hoping that her nearness eased his pain in some way. Gently, she lifted his hand and placed his palm on her belly so he could feel the child within. Tavarus’ or not, Kerrick loved her child. His great concern for her extended to the life she carried. As her protector, he’d been willing to die to keep her and the baby safe.

“I love you, Kerrick.”

Each night before she closed her eyes, she whispered those words to his ear. Right afterward tears welled, forcing their way out from between her closed lids. She tried not to weep, but she couldn’t stop. Ariss cried for what she hadn’t done, for what she could have done, for what she should have done. As he had
for the last nine nights, Kerrick stayed perfectly still, his breathing a soothing rhythm that ushered her into slumber.

Just as sleep tugged her down into blissful nothingness, she bolted awake, sitting upright.

She’d felt movement.

Filled with joy, she looked down to Kerrick’s hand, but it just lay limply against her. While she was staring at him, she felt another tickle of movement.

“My baby.”

Wrapping her hands around her belly, she hugged him through her skin, holding him as if she would never let go.

K
errick existed in a nightmare world. Tavarus and Varnatha battled endlessly. He stood by the wayside, observing, unable to intervene, to speak, to do anything but watch them fight. Weapon after weapon manifested in their hands. Wound after blood-gushing wound appeared on their bodies. Nothing slowed them down. No injury was great enough to make them stop. They were immortal beings that would never tire, never die. Kerrick no longer thought they battled over him. Now it seemed to be fighting for the sheer sake of fighting.

Kerrick regretted every petty argument he’d ever had with Ariss. Had he known what little time they had together, he wouldn’t have wasted a moment. What really devastated him was that he’d never told her he loved her. He was certain that she knew, but he’d liked to have said the words all the same. For once in his life, he wanted to say those words to a woman and mean them as more than pillow talk.

Sometimes, as he stood watching Tavarus and Varnatha hurt each other, he felt Ariss was near. He felt her tears, her pain, and her grief. In those moments, he tried to move, to reach out. He
wanted to give her some indication he was still here. He wanted to comfort her, but the rage between the combatants held him immobile. They refused to release him until one of them emerged triumphant. Sadly for him, they were evenly matched.

Kerrick had all the time in the world to contemplate his life. He’d made so many mistakes because of his impulsive nature. In his haste, he willingly allowed Varnatha to possess him. His motive in doing so was pure, but no less stupid.

Still, he knew, given a second chance, he would likely make the same mistakes all over again. It was a hard lesson to learn, but he had to accept that his heart ruled him, not his head. He wanted to think of himself as an emotionless man who followed logic and reason, but he wasn’t. Emotions had a greater hold over him than he wanted to admit. His need to connect his feelings to those around him fueled his interest in gossip.

Varnatha whacked Tavarus’ arm off with a mighty blow. Before she could celebrate, he grew a new one.

Kerrick sighed.

“They won’t ever stop.”

Kerrick looked around, but he was alone in the misty whiteness. Great, he thought, now he was hearing voices.

“Of course you’re hearing voices. Well, a voice. I am speaking to you, after all.”

The voice wasn’t one he recognized.

“That’s because you haven’t met me.”

“Who are you?” Kerrick asked the air.

“I’m your son.”

Now he knew he was hallucinating. He didn’t have any children. He’d been with many women, but that was something he’d always taken great care with; controlling the birth of children was his primary focus just before pleasure.

“Until Ariss.”

Kerrick wasn’t sure if he said those two words or his hallucination had. Struck by the truth, Kerrick wanted to pelt this
new speaker with questions, but he didn’t dare. He didn’t want the voice, hallucination or not, to leave. He was sick of being alone. And anyone, even a figment of his imagination, was better than nothing. Besides, he had a feeling all of this was just another way to hold out hope. What better way to pacify himself than to imagine he spoke to the child Ariss carried? He hadn’t allowed himself to really see the child as his, even though he’d felt in his heart he was, because he feared what Tavarus would do in retaliation.

“They can’t see me unless I want them to.” A young man stood beside him, dressed in simple black trousers, his hands clasped behind his back. “Only you can see me.”

Kerrick congratulated himself for imagining such a striking man as his son. He saw a combination of himself and Ariss in his face. If possible, his son had the best of both their features: gray-green eyes, high-angled cheekbones, a strong, square chin, and deep brown hair with golden highlights. Luckily, he’d inherited Kerrick’s build: strong shoulders, narrow hips, and muscular arms. Shirtless, his chest was surprisingly free of hair. Around the upper portion of his right arm, a black band of sharp angles against a parallel line encircled his entire bicep.

Kerrick’s stomach lurched. Darting his gaze between his son and Tavarus, Kerrick realized the mark upon each was the same.

His son noticed him looking at the mark. He laughed. “I am bound to Tavarus, but I do not follow him. I am bound to her as well.” His son nodded to Varnatha.

Kerrick noticed that she, too, had the mark embedded into her skin, but not on her arm; her mark encircled her upper right thigh.

“The mark doesn’t mean I am his or her disciple. Rather … the opposite, in fact.”

Kerrick didn’t know what the opposite was. “Tavarus and Varnatha are your disciples?” He asked the question in jest, but
his son calmly considered for a very long time before he answered.

“In the future they are.”

His son’s voice was so composed and controlled, it caused a shiver along Kerrick’s spine.

“Those two”—Kerrick pointed to the battling war gods—“worship you?”

His son laughed loud and long until tears ran from the corners of his eyes. “They?” He pointed. “Those two notice none but themselves. The only thing they worship is fighting.”

“I don’t understand.” Kerrick reached out, expecting his hand to wash right through him, but he touched strong, solid flesh.

His son clapped his hand over his. Even in his hallucination, Kerrick felt the moist heat of his son’s touch.

“I know,” his son said. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that my mother needs you.”

The most compelling thing about his son was the peace that emanated from him. He looked over everything with unshakable tranquility. Even when he spoke of Ariss, he remained calm, as if he were simply reminding Kerrick of something he forgot.

“I’ve been trying to get to her.” Kerrick couldn’t keep the frustration out of his voice. “But they won’t let me go.”

His son patted his hand and then released him. He cast his gaze upon the fighting duo, and called, “Tavarus? Varnatha?”

Whipping his bald head around, flinging off beads of sweat, Tavarus focused his gaze upon them. Varnatha lowered her blade, keeping her face toward Tavarus while darting a glance at them.

“I’m not your son. But you’ve always known that.”

Tavarus’ nostrils flared. Rage filled his eyes.

Calmly, Kerrick’s son continued, “You just wanted Ariss. That’s why you possessed her to make her mate with Kerrick,
thus ensuring she would become pregnant.” He turned to Ker-rick and said, “In the temple, you noticed Ariss’ pupils were wide. My mother wanted you, but he forced her to mate with you rather than just accepting your tribute as she had with the others. Tavarus needed your tribute within her to continue with his plans.”

Kerrick nodded, just now realizing that Tavarus had subtly compelled both of them to bring about his desired outcome: a child that would be considered the issue of a god.

His son’s eyes settled on Varnatha. “All along he’s known the child is not his. He just wanted to make Ariss pliable to his demands.”

Varnatha laughed.

Tavarus turned, swinging his blade, but she was already gone. Tavarus turned his attention to them. Anger in his steps, he marched over, his blade held on high. “I can still possess you whenever I want!”

His son didn’t even blink. Calmly, he said, “No, Tavarus, you cannot. I won’t allow it.”

Tavarus’ gaze fell on the mark encircling his arm.

Kerrick looked there, too. For the first time, he noticed gold highlighted the edges of the black lines around his son’s arm, but not Tavarus’. His son’s mark glittered with an inner radiance that was almost spellbinding.

Fear widened Tavarus’ eyes. All during his battle with Var-natha, he’d shown nothing but aggression. Panic never crossed his sharp features. However, one glance at the mark on his son’s arm turned his face pale and set his lips to quivering.

“Why didn’t you use the power before?”

Kerrick realized that Tavarus directed the question to him, not his son.

“He didn’t want to use his power against you,” his son answered. “But he will if you return.”

Tavarus narrowed his gaze, scrutinizing Kerrick, looking for
weakness, anything he could exploit. Kerrick faced him without fidgeting, just as he had stood for the appraisal of the recruits when he stepped forward to claim the role of Harvester. Forcefully, Kerrick injected every bit of confidence he had into his posture, even though he didn’t feel convinced. After long consideration, Tavarus gritted his teeth and mercifully vanished. Kerrick released a breath he felt he’d been holding forever.

“And just what is this great and mighty power I have?” Ker-rick directed the question to his son as he considered the now vast empty mist around them.

“Love.” His son said the word as if that answered everything. “That’s your greatest weapon. Let your heart lead you, Father.”

“But that’s what has always gotten me into trouble.” Every time his life went horribly wrong, it was because he’d acted without thinking.

“No, impulsively following your mind is what caused the mess. Follow your heart.” His son considered him with a most engaging expression, then placed his hand over Kerrick’s heart. “Your heart is what led you to Ariss.”

Kerrick cupped his son’s hand. He felt his own heart beating, then the beat below his son’s flesh. Before Kerrick could ask any more questions, his son’s hand melted below his.

Kerrick awoke.

Ariss lay beside him with her arms wrapped around her belly, holding their child, their son.

Protectively placing his arms around her, Kerrick pulled her into his embrace. She moaned in her sleep. He cupped a palm to her belly and swore he felt movement, as if his son acknowledged his presence. There were hundreds of unanswered questions, but for now, all he wanted was to hold his family in his arms.

“D
erry? Where’s your father?” Ariss called through the open window, but her son was too far away to hear her, or he pretended not to. When he was playing in the
galbol
trees, Derry became single-minded and oblivious to everything else.

Her heart plunged to her belly when Derry swung from one branch to another. No matter how many times she’d witnessed him scampering across the offset, spiraling limbs, she never stopped worrying. Kerrick assured her Derry was safe and knew his limitations, but that didn’t make watching him flying through the air any easier on her heart.

“Derrick, I asked you a question!” Nothing got his attention faster than using his given name.

Derry turned his head her direction. Brown hair with golden highlights fanned out around his face. Almost thirteen seasons old, yet he had the eyes of an ancient. Once he riveted his gaze upon her, he rolled his eyes. She loved her son, always would, but he was at that age where he thought all adults were annoying. “Dad’s at the hot pond.” Jumping out, he reached for a branch, missed, but grabbed the next one down.

Ariss turned away before her heart gave out entirely. Gathering up her daughter, who slumbered peacefully in her satchel, Ariss left behind their neat and tiny home. Working her way across the yard, she took the well-worn path that would take her to the pond. Kerrick had discovered a hot spring on the property. With several cycles of backbreaking labor, he’d created a large, deep body of water that was surprisingly warm.

Despite the running water in the house, Kerrick preferred to bathe outside, even when the cold came and laid down layers of icy crystals. After his confinement in the palace as the Harvester, Kerrick had become obsessed with being outside. At night they slept with the windows open, even when it was freezing outside, just so he could smell fresh air. Ariss didn’t mind. The chill gave her an excuse to snuggle deeper into his embrace. And they had plenty of wood to keep the metal stove stoked.

She emerged from the forest as he emerged from the water. Pushing up from the bottom, he shot himself out of the surface with great power. A large splash revealed his naked chest. He shook his head sharply side to side, flinging water in all directions. In the light of
Tandalsul,
his hair glowed brighter than gold, and the collar around his neck gleamed.

Again, her heart stopped, but this time at the sheer majestic beauty of her bondmate. Every time she saw him, she reminded herself how grateful she was, how blessed she was, how blissfully content she was to have him in her life. The time for a tremendous and painful change grew near, but with Kerrick by her side, she knew she would prevail. They all would.

Here in the forest, the question of his position to her ceased to matter. None knew of his past as her servant, so everyone they knew considered them bondmates. They thought Ker-rick’s collar was simply a fashionable accessory. When several of their neighbors emulated the smooth metal links, Ariss had to bite her tongue not to tell them the truth. If they knew the
meaning behind it, they certainly wouldn’t wish to wear something similar. In this case, ignorance was truly bliss. Kerrick chuckled when he saw them. He’d long since stopped worrying over what the acolytes had told him. They had crafted their own ceremony to bond themselves together. They exchanged words of love and fidelity, sealing themselves to each other as equals. That was all that mattered to them.

Kerrick saw her and smiled a greeting that turned into a suggestive leer.

Ariss playfully darted her gaze around even though she knew they were alone. The nearest neighbor was more than half a day away by foot. Usually they went to them, selling them the medicinal plants she’d learned to grow by trial and error. Ever supportive, Kerrick brought her books and seedlings, working by her side until she learned what worked and what didn’t. Just like rearing her children, raising her garden was a labor of love.

Glancing down at her still-slumbering daughter, Ariss placed her near to the shore, but within the thick shade of the
merdica
bushes that grew around the
galbol
trees.

With Kerrick’s attention riveted to her every move, Ariss slowly slipped off her dress, teasing him with the artful revelation of her body. Time and two children hadn’t been too hard on her body, not if Kerrick’s reaction was any indication. Once she was bare, he whistled appreciatively. He crooked his finger, calling her into the water.

Striding forward, Ariss entered the pond with her gaze held to his. Warm water sluiced up her legs, sensual as a lover’s caress. As she drew close, he lifted his arm, offering out his hand to her. She grasped his hand and gave a blissful sigh as he pulled her into his embrace.

Hot, water-slick skin pressed against her, allowing her to slide her body against his. Her breasts flattened against his
chest, her nipples hardening with the contact. Sliding her up, he took one firm bud into his mouth, suckling just a bit of milk.

“Not too much,” he said, nuzzling one, then the other. “Just enough to taste.” He took another sip. “You taste wickedly fine.”

Rolling her head back, she wrapped her legs around him, clinging to him as he cupped her bottom. Bit by bit, he guided her down until he fitted his cock between her thighs. For a timeless moment, he held himself to her, ready to plunge within. Knowing her as he did, he knew how much she relished that moment right before penetration. Just when she thought she couldn’t stand any more delay, he let her slither down and plunged his cock inside her.

They released a mutual sigh.

Ariss shivered from her toes to the tips of her ears. How could it be that after hundreds of encounters with him she still felt such powerful satisfaction whenever they connected?

“I’ve been waiting for this all day.” He rubbed his nose against hers, his gaze holding hers in thrall.

“The day isn’t yet half over,” she reminded gently.

“Mmmm,” he moaned, kissing her upper lip, then drawing it inside his mouth. Tugging on the sensitive flesh while flicking his tongue against the center of her lip instantly made her think of the same luscious movement much lower on her body. When she squirmed restlessly against him, he released her lip and grinned lasciviously. “My sense of time distortion must be from someone waking me up before the suns even broke through the clouds.” Kerrick lifted her up, holding her while he made a slow swivel of his hips.

“You know she won’t go back to sleep for me.” Ariss wriggled against him, loving the way she felt strong and yet helpless in his grasp. He was so much larger than she was, yet his power never frightened her. Kerrick’s strength only aroused her. What
excited her was that for such a massive man, he was amazingly gentle. Even his tiny daughter recognized this basic fact about him. When she was fussy, only Kerrick could comfort her. Thankfully, their daughter slumbered peacefully on the bank, giving them this chance to be together.

“You just say that so you can sleep.” Kerrick rocked her, plunging his cock to her in a series of quick bursts that rubbed her clit against his rough pubic hair.

Clutching his shoulders, Ariss moaned, “You know it’s not fair for us to have a discussion while doing this.” Because she had a tendency to agree to anything Kerrick wanted. To get his way, all he had to do was cloud her judgment with sex.

“I like it when you say yes.”

“Kerrick—” she never got past his name. Smoothly, he lifted her up, withdrawing his cock. He spun her so that she faced away. He lowered himself in the water so that he knelt on one knee. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you a tawdry throne.”

A deep shiver tightened her exposed nipples as her breasts bobbed at the surface. “You swore that you would never use that against me.” One night, when they’d had a bit too much of
merdica
berry wine, she’d told him the truth about how erotic receiving tribute was. She honestly didn’t miss anything about the palace but for that.

“I’m not using it against you.” He bit her neck as he pulled her into his lap. “I’m using the knowledge to excite you.” He slipped his cock inside her, forcing her hips down so that she sat upon him. Settling his mouth close to her ear, he whispered, “Picture a man before you, on his knees, begging for your permission to remove his loincloth and stroke his cock.”

“I’m picturing you.”

“Mmmm,” he moaned, biting her earlobe. “Lucky am I to be both your throne and the man at your feet.”

Ariss closed her eyes, clearly seeing Kerrick kneeling before her.

“I have come to pay tribute.” His voice slipped into her ear, yet simultaneously curled around her nipples. “Will you accept my tribute?”

“Kerrick, I—”

“Say yes, Ariss.”

“Yes, I will accept your tribute.”

Kerrick moaned into her ear, but she could picture him on his knees at her feet, his hand reaching to the side to remove his loincloth. Once he’d pulled the cloth away, he exposed his genitals. He was hard, impressively large, and eager to show her what he could do.

“May I look upon you?”

Falling fully into their game of pretend, she said, “You may cast your gaze upon me.”

In her mind, he looked up from a lowered face. His gaze met hers, briefly, and then dropped to her exposed breasts. Thrusting her chest out, she lifted her hands to tease her nipples. Her sex gripped tightly around Kerrick’s cock, causing him to inadvertently moan.

“My throne never moaned before,” she murmured over her shoulder.

“I can’t help it.” Kissing her shoulder, he nestled his hands to her hips. “You’ve never felt so tight.”

“Perhaps it’s because my throne was never so big.”

He growled.

“So hot.”

He groaned.

“Or buried so deeply inside me.”

Snarling like an animal, he nipped her ear. “Stop, Ariss, or your throne won’t last long!”

“I guess there is a clear difference between a man and a
rock,” she teased mildly. Her laughter halted abruptly when he thrust his hips forward while holding her still. With his one leg placed between hers, she lowered her hands to his knee to hang on.

Once she settled, he asked, “Can you see me ready for you?”

In her vision, golden light fell upon Kerrick’s cock as his hand wrapped around the shaft.

“I’ve locked my gaze to you,” he murmured, warming to his description. “I’m working my hand along the length. A teardrop of moisture hangs at the tip and I palm it, pulling it down, stroking the slickness over my cock, lessening the friction so I will last longer.”

Ariss saw him perform every move in her mind’s eye. “You always did know how to put on a show.”

He placed his lips to her ear. “Watch as my fist tightens over my shaft, turning the tip dark. All the while, my eyes blaze bright. Each stroke makes me think of my cock in your snug cunt.”

That’s exactly what she thought of, too. Each time she visualized him stroking down, she moved her hips, rocking upon him.

“I thought you were supposed to hold still?” he admonished.

“I can’t.” She’d enjoyed their game, but she’d gone as far as she could. “I want you. I need to feel—”

“Not yet.” He held her firmly, forcing her to wait while he whispered, “Watch my fist fly up and down the length of my shaft. My breathing is erratic, my eyes closed, my head involuntarily goes back.”

Ariss could see each movement he described. He lowered his hand between her legs and fingered her clit. Rubbing hard and fast, his voice in her ear was just as sharp and pointed.

“In a great gush I come, an arch of pure white jets from the tip of my cock to splash at your feet.” His breath was ragged, blasting into her ear in great, hot waves. “Come for me, Ariss.”

And she did.

She came so hard she fell forward, almost slipping below the surface of the water but for his arm across her waist, holding her up, and pressing her back against his chest. Suddenly, she felt him come inside her, his cock twitching, jetting a sweet, hot tide of pleasure.

Together, they stayed still, recovering.

With a soft brush of lips to her outer ear, Kerrick asked, “Did my tribute please you?”

Unable to speak, Ariss nodded.

“I love you, Ariss.”

She never tired of hearing those wonderful words.

“I love you, Kerrick.”

“Really?” He playfully nipped her neck. “Even though my name means chastity device in Felton?”

She laughed, turning to kiss him over her shoulder. “I will never forget the expression on your face when I told you.” The first time he’d said his name in the mating room, she was certain it was a joke; a man who embodied sex as the Harvester named after a chastity device just seemed too ironic for words. Apparently, in Cheon, where he was from, the name Kerrick meant strength. In Felton, a kerrick was a complicated device that prevented the wearer from engaging in sex. There were different versions for men and woman, although it was now considered more of a novelty.

They laughed gently, holding each other. Even before he spoke, she knew he would say something she didn’t want to hear. It wasn’t anything in particular, just a general tightening of his body that gave her fair warning.

“We have to return to the palace.”

She’d always known the time would come, but somehow the moment had arrived far too quickly. “He’s still too young.”

“No, he’s not. He’s thirteen seasons come this Harvest.”

“I’m not ready.”

Kerrick took a deep breath. “Yes, you are. You are so strong, Ariss. So much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

“We could run.”

With a sigh, Kerrick rubbed his cheek against hers. “Derry has to go back. That was the agreement we made.”

Ariss swore when this day came she wouldn’t cry, but tears filled, then spilled over, falling down her face.

“Ariss.” Kerrick snuggled her tightly. “Cry your tears now; then we will wash them away, so that tonight, when we tell our son, you will face him with clear vision.”

She nodded, knowing that she owed their son that much. “You don’t have to go.”

“Don’t even think it, Ariss. We’re a family and we’ll see this through together.”