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An’Thaya murmured softly as she woke and stretched, the early morning light warming her skin as sore muscles protested the movement. “Morning,” she whispered, automatically assuming it was Galain that held her, and she pressed her body back against him in the usual manner that started their mornings. It took her a moment, and then she froze half-open eyes not recognizing her surrounding. They were as unfamiliar as the hard male body that was pressed against her back, or the muscular arms wrapped around her slight frame.
“Oh… by the light of Arminiea,” she whimpered. What in the name of the Gods had she done? The night before came crashing down on her in all its questionable glory and her cheeks felt as if they had been set on fire. It was a dream … right? It had to be a dream. The ache of her body and the tender bruises on her flesh spoke otherwise. “Oh … my … gods.”
Callan had been awake far longer than An'Thaya, yet his eyes were closed. Had he ever actually slept? His night had been spent in a foggy state of dreams and half-sleep, ensnared by guilt and desire, wanting to take her again, yet knowing just the once had been wrong.
A soft, but rueful snort came from Callan as his topaz eyes flickered open, "At least you didn't say 'good morning. Thaya..."
Callan released her and propped himself up on his elbow, his eyes full of shadows and emotions he didn't want to explore any further...for both their sakes.
After an agonizing moment of silence, Callan added softly, "We need to get you cleaned up. I don't think dried blood on you would be something Galain would want to see today."
An’Thaya lay absolutely still, watching Callan with wary emerald eyes. The sight of him sparked something deep within that she quickly denied and repressed. One mistake was plenty for her, thank you very much. “We?” a delicate crimson eyebrow shot up, “I think I can handle the cleanup part myself, thank you.” Sitting up the Amazon pulled one of the sheets up to cover herself; a rather inane gesture considering. Unable to meet his gaze at the moment, she slid towards the edge of the bed and onto unsteady feet. Her body ached in places she really didn’t want to think about.
“Not one word,” Tay growled, “Not one word to anyone about this, or I swear, I’ll kill you.” She was shaking, guilt and sheer fury at herself nearly blinding her with its intensity. What had she been thinking? Well, obviously she hadn’t.
"I had no intentions of escorting you further than the baths, M'Lady." Callan stiffened slightly at the threat, "And I assure you, I have no intentions of shouting it from the rooftops."
Heavily muscled thighs slid over to edge of the bed; Callan made no attempt to cover himself as his feet hit the floor. With his hands on the edge of the mattress, the half-Elven form of the dragon looked up at An'Thaya.
"I will not say what we did was a mistake. Loving someone and making love to them is never a mistake. But breaking a promise to a friend and ally is, and it will not happen again."
Callan's fingers ran through his hair, then down his face and around to the back of his neck, as if scrubbing his skin would somehow erase the heaviness within him.
"I'll wait until you're finished, then bathe myself. Breakfast should arrive soon, and the servant that brings the meal can be trusted." Standing, Callan walked silently through the room and opened a set of double doors, then disappeared onto the private sunledge.
He didn't want to be in the same room with An'Thaya Alcarin, not smeared in her blood...and still smelling her scent on his skin. It was too much, and Callan would not put himself in the position he had the night before. His ability to say no had apparently been impaired then...as it was now.
The Amazon’s spine remained rigid until Callan left the room, at which point she collapsed back on the bed and buried her face in her hands. A shuddering breath shook her slight frame and tears spilled out through trembling fingers. His words had struck like a blow from a hammer to steel on an anvil. Tay hadn’t meant the threat, and his pain had hurt her too … surprisingly.
The redhead could tell herself that it had just been lust all she wanted to, but it would be a lie. Deep down the Amazon knew why she treated Callan this way, and always had. The violence and sharp words were self-preserving. The attraction she felt had no place in her life. Two husbands were more than enough, and she loved them both desperately. If either of them ever found out what she had done …
A soft gasping sob escaped and Tay drew another breath, trying to ignore the throbbing pain of her body. Half from the Black’s brutal lovemaking, half from an aching desire to let him do it again.
Pushing back to her feet the Elf gathered the sheet around her body, then tossed it aside just as quickly when Callan’s scent assaulted her senses. She used her wings to cloak herself instead and made her way to the bathing room on unsteady legs.
It was like returning to the scene of the crime, and her heard beat wildly in her chest for a moment. Berating herself the Amazon steeled herself, shoving down emotion, as she was wont to do in a bad situation. Diving in she let the heated water soak into her skin, the liquid soothing her as nothing else could for a S’Hean Elf. Gritting her teeth the redhead scrubbed at her bruised skin, nearly peeling her flesh away in her desperation to remove the Black’s scent and her own blood.
In silence, Callan watched the sunrise top the mountain peaks and burn off the heavy fog that was lying in the valleys. The sky was lit in shades of gold, amber, lavender and blues and just on the horizon lay colors of crimson, blood red and shadows of black, vivid reminders of last night.
With jaws clenched, Callan tried to slow his whirling thoughts. It was going to be hard to keep this from Galain and Adarin, their House was allied to his and he valued their friendship...but how did you start a conversation like that? And then there was Y'Roden...what would he think of Callan's...misuse? Of An'Thaya?
To add to his agony, there was this maddening desire to go back into the baths, charm her, woo her, and then take her again, regardless of her earlier objections. He wanted to say to hell with the Alcarins and the D'Riels altogether and simply take what he wanted, lock her up and have her to himself forever. It was the Black within him, wanting to surface, to override the Silver sense of honor and honesty, to hoard and take without asking. He had made it two steps back toward the Keep when he stopped in the doorway, realizing what he was about to do.
And it nearly made him sick.
Had he already started down that path? Confusing lust and greed with love and tenderness? How close was he to stepping across the line that separated him from the person his sire had been? He'd been down that path already in his life...and would...not...go back.
Callan's fist crashed into the stone of the doorframe as he snarled in rage and misery, shattering the stone that held the steel hinge in place, leaving the door swinging crazily on its lower hinge. His own black-red blood dribbled across his knuckles and spattered the granite floor as he flexed his hand, then turned his back on the entrance to their...his? Chambers. Still growling, Callan slumped to the ledge, shifting to Dragon form as he did, its right claw bloodied and cut, smearing the stone on which it rested in shades of crimson black.
Perhaps the line would be easier drawn by them both if he kept to the dragon shape this morning...at least he hoped.
Clean and dry An’Thaya stood staring off over the pool, trying to gather her thoughts. She wanted desperately to submerge herself beneath the comforting presence of Agaru, to forget and push it all away. But that wasn’t her … she had been fighting tooth and nail to survive since the day she was born. Only once had she hidden away, and Callan had not done anything to her half so bad as Avathar had. What the Black had done; had been driven by love, not twisted hate and lust. There was simply no comparison. She had hurt him … both by giving in, and with her sharp words. The guilt eating at her was as much for that as it was for Galain and Adarin.
With a sigh she opened a pocket portal and donned a light white shift for the moment, choosing to go barefoot as she padded back out into the bedchamber. The presence of the Dragon should have been a relief, but An’Thaya had the same odd attraction to the scaled beasts as Ghet did. Pushing her natural reaction aside the Amazon made her way out onto the ledge, stepping lightly over the tip of his tail and making her way up to his head. Standing to the side of his foreclaws she stared at the blood. “You’re bleeding,” she said stupidly, then lifted her shadowed emerald greens to meet one bright blue draconic eye. “I’m sorry Araxmarr,” she said softly, the uncanny D’Riel talent for mimicking accents enunciating the name flawlessly. “I didn’t mean what I said. I just … no one can know about this. It would hurt to many people.”
One black eyelid cracked open, the glittering eye behind it rolling up to An'Thaya's face as she approached, his sinuous neck arching up until his head was safely above hers.
"It happens, from time to time...the bleeding. It will stop on its own soon enough." Callan drew in a deep breath, his sides heaving and wings rustling as he ignored her apology for the moment and nodded his head toward the sunlit mountains and the sand seas beyond.
"The Diirlathe has stood for countless millennia, An'Thaya. Untouched by any but the most brave...or lonely, and it has been many long years since the last time the mountains allowed someone new to make their home here." Callan's scaled snout angled down, his head tilting to better see the delicate red-head, and without his consent came the memory of every tattoo, every piercing, every scar on her body and sounds of their shared pleasure echoed along every nerve, every fiber of his soul.
"And now it has been found...but to what end?" The dragon muttered, then lowered his head to his foreclaws. "You need not apologize to me, An'Thaya Alcarin, you are right. What happened last night would destroy too many lives. I think it best we both try to forget what happened, or at the very least, re-remember that as an evening between Agaru alone, and myself."
Grunting and refusing to look in her eyes any longer for fear of losing himself again, Callan lurched to his feet and shifted his bulk. Bloodied scale covered claws became hands, one of which was livid with bruises beneath the blood. Wings disappeared and across his lower half appeared a pair of loose black flannel pants with a drawstring waist; dragonscale, but soft like the fabric it duplicated.
"I trust its safe for me to take my own bath now..." Callan nodded down at his blood smeared chest and abdomen, then turned to go back inside.
"I don't suppose anyone will believe it if we tell them you offered yourself as a sacrifice to the dragon to save the village, will they?" He snorted as he crossed the threshold of the doorway, and disappeared into the Keep.
The conflicting relief and agony warring through An’Thaya’s soul sent the emerald galaxy swirling madly around its apex. She didn’t dare reach out to any of her bondmates. What reason could she give them for her pain? There was no one she could tell, what happened the evening before would be her own secret. Her own shameful weakness. What was so damn different about Callan that he had managed to get through her defenses? He wasn’t the first man to try, but he was certainly the first to bed her and walk away. The Amazon’s cheeks flushed with shame even as she followed him into the Keep.
“Wait,” her voice was a little tremulous, but she managed to cut him off before he reached the bathing chambers. “Let me fix that, there is enough we have to avoid explaining.” Tiny fingers gripped Callan’s before he could protest, her S’Hean gift working to heal the blood and bruises and transfer them briefly to her own flesh.
“And yes, I do need to apologize. I could have said no, but I didn’t. What happened isn’t your fault, its mine.” Tay winced slightly as her skin bruised and broke open, but she managed a shaky laugh, “you know, that sacrifice ploy just might work
"It was as much my fault as anyone’s'...Thaya." Callan winced as torn flesh reknitted and closed on An'Thaya's own hand. "I knew...I knewit was you, not Agaru...well, not at first, but I still could stopped, and walked away."
Sighing, Callan dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around An'Thaya and pressed his forehead against her stomach.
"I am the one who should sorry. I teased you, thinking Agaru was in control. And when I knew better."
Callan stopped. Now...well, now what were they to do? What was he to do? Agaru was his bondmate, his Soulmate...and it was becoming far too easy to not know where the line was drawn between she and An'Thaya.
How did Yarwin deal with this problem with 'Chel and Rach?
Of course, he was married to 'Chel and Rach...
Startled An’Thaya froze for a moment, then lay her small hands on the top of Callan’s head. Having the Black Dragon Emperor on his knees wasn’t a sight a girl got to see everyday. Unless she was really, really lucky. His odd tenderness touched her though; he was far from the creature Tay had thought him to be when she had first laid eyes on him. “If I had stayed buried, it wouldn’t have happened. So knock that off,” she chided gently. “I’m a big girl, I should know better than to play with fire.”
She should have known indeed, and having him wrapped around her in this fashion was doing nothing for keeping her word on not letting anything happen again. Not that it mattered, he could have been standing on the other side of the room and her heart still would have been pounding, her blood burning. Control was now the name of the game, and she was going to have to relearn how to restrain herself. “Callan,” she said a little shakily, “Uhm…”
Callan shook his head, clearing his thoughts. "Right...I...well. I'm sorry." Callan rose to his feet and flexed his hand once more, then gave An'Thaya a bittersweet smile. "Thank you." Now if only other...things were as easily fixed.
"I..." Callan found himself afraid to breathe, he'd drawn in as much of her scent as he dared just now, and closed his eyes for a moment. "I need to get cleaned up. Breakfast should be here any minute. Feel free to ask for anything you need."
And the Emperor found his way to the bath, and sank into the deep...hot water, and tried desperately not to relive the previous night.
Ohhhh man. Was the rest of today going to be awkward and for that matter, the rest of his life?
An’Thaya released a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding and reached out for something to steady herself. Life, from now on, was going to be a bit of hell. It was a familiar feeling, but at least with Galain there had been the threat of ‘lay with him and die’ imposed upon her by Arminiea. Even that hadn’t stopped her in the end, and the Amazon had been pleasantly surprised to still be breathing afterwards.
If anyone found out about Callan, someone was bound to die. The question was who would be doing the killing. An’Thaya had her money on the Black. There was a certain advantage to being a sixty-foot long scaled menace.
A soft sound at the door had Tay turning to find a woman bearing in breakfast trays. She didn’t say a word, but the she gave the redhead was rather odd. Looking down, the diminutive Elf discovered why. The front of her white shift was covered in dried and fresh blood. The first from Callan’s embrace, the second from the wound she had healed.
At that moment, mercifully, Agaru took over. Faceted emerald eyes lifted to meet the other woman’s gaze. Thank you … you may go.
Callan felt as well as heard Agaru in the next room, and slid his head above the water.
"Traitor...showing up when breakfast arrives." Callan growled at his mate, but there was no retribution in his tone, only concern.
"I seem to have gotten myself into more trouble and heartache than I bargained for..." Callan muttered as the rose from the water, and padded, dripping wet into the main chamber.
"So," Callan reached out a hand and took Agaru's chin in his fingers.
"Now I have no idea what to do. It seems my heart sees the two of you as one and the same."
What? She shot back, a girl gets hungry you know. Faceted emerald eyes studied his expression for a moment, and she reached up to caress his jawline. “We are, after a fashion. I am … of her, yet somehow separate. Neither of us understand it completely, but we do not seem to have as clear a definition as Galain and his Scaralasse.”
She smiled, “It makes things more difficult I think, and I am sorry it causes you confusion and pain. I think … it is best that you have come to accept what your heart tells you. More painful perhaps, but being honest with one’s self is the most important thing. Perhaps in time … all three of us will find some way to deal with it better? You do realize you are dripping on the carpet?” The last sentence brought a quirk to her lip, “You see, fuzzy definition.” Agaru couldn’t have cared less about the flooring. “I love you Black.”
"And I love you, Red..." Callan sighed and ducked his head, kissing her lightly on the lips.
"And its my carpet...our carpet, actually." the Black laughed softly. "I'm not being totally honest with myself really," Callan went on, suddenly somber.
"The truth is, I could love you both as one for the rest of my life, however long that would be if Galain and Adarin were to find out. The two of you have set something free in me, the beginnings of which were began by you, Agaru and reached full maturity last night. The only bad thing about this is that we are not the only ones affected. The truth is, I would have liked to have taken her more than once, and not so gentle as the first time."
Callan took a plate of various meats and breads in his hands and sat down on the bed.
"And I'm going to eat on the bed too. If you have a problem with that..."
Agaru studied her mate with a soft expression on her face, then sat down on the bed and stole a slice of meat off the plate. “Not really,” she said, “I’ll just make you roll around on the crummy side. Breaded Callan, sounds delicious.” An impish light lit her eyes at the notion and she nibbled on her pilfered food for a moment. “I’m not sure I can take credit for setting anything in you free. I think it was the love of your daughter that was responsible for that Black. It is Mira that turned you to the light.”
“ And as for more than once, An’Thaya would have rather enjoyed that as well. If she survived it.” She suddenly choked as the Amazon gave her soul a twist. “I mean … uhm… did I say that out loud?”
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