Marie Harte - Gale Season

“Come, Brother, let’s end this now,” ‘Sin Garu said, sounding not at all tired.

B’alen, on the other hand, looked to be breathing heavily. “Fuck you, meh fre ak nahl sur.” He flashed his teeth and spat at his brother, the sting of acid landing on ‘Sin Garu’s cheek and making him howl with rage.

“That had to hurt,” Sava muttered.

“Look at his face.”

“No, I meant the ‘ nahl sur’ comment. B’alen basically called ‘Sin Garu a creation of incest.”

“Nice.” Arim shook his head. “This is all well and good, Sava, and I can’t say I don’t enjoy watching our enemy take themselves out, but I need to check on Aerolus.”

“Lexa told me everything, you know,” ‘Sin Garu mentioned casually, drawing Arim’s attention. The wily Dark Lord avoided B’alen’s enraged attack to his throat. “Lidra would only have been convincing as Ravyn if you’d not turned her into a blood drinker. Haven’t you learned by now to think ahead, big brother?”

Arim stiffened. Lidra as Ravyn? Alandra hadn’t mentioned that. Imagining Lidra pretending to be his sister made him cringe, but knowing the Aellei might have succeeded had Alandra never made herself known to Aerolus had him rethinking any doubt he might have had about his nephew’s affai.

“Ingenious, really,” Sava said, echoing his thoughts. “If Lidra had succeeded, you would have had a Dark Lord imbedded in Tanselm before you knew what you were dealing with. It’s one thing to distrust the Djinn, but your overqueen? Hmm, why hadn’t I ever thought of that?” he asked lightly.

Arim shook his head, his immediate concern for his sister cooling at Sava’s humour. Lidra was dead now. But Ravyn would need to be told. Bad enough she’d lost her husband to the Next and her sons to a foreign land, she now also needed to worry about internal threats to Tanselm. Wonderful.

Weary, Arim rubbed at his neck. “I’m going back to Tanselm. Let me know what—”

He stopped as ‘Sin Garu suddenly impaled his brother with a spear of blue flame. B’alen gurgled and black liquid ran from his mouth. It appeared the Dark Lord threat had just taken a turn for the better.

“What’s that, Brother?” ‘Sin Garu asked softly. He leaned closer to listen to what B’alen said and narrowed his eyes. “She’ll pay, dearly.” Then, gathering several wraiths still alive and surrounding the fight, he drew a circle in the air. A blazing inferno appeared above him in a circle big enough to fit the small gathering of Netharat .

He gathered B’alen in his arms and vaulted into the maw, his wraiths in trail. The portal closed as quickly as it had opened, and the air settled into stillness.

“Helluva day.” Sava breathed deeply and made a face. “We really need to clean this mess up. Already the stench of rot is clogging my sinuses.”

“Not to mention so much death is unsightly,” Arim said sarcastically. “Glad you have your priorities in order, Sava.”

Sava glared. “I love Alandra, you sheel . But she’s on her own path now, one that takes her from Aelle into a greater Shadow.” He smiled, his eyes dark with threat. “Have no fear, old friend, I intend to visit her often in Tanselm, to make sure she’s treated well, as she deserves.”

“Save it, old friend .” Arim blew out a breath in disgust. “Alandra will be treated like a queen, as you well know. Aerolus would rather die than let anyone, including me, harm his affai . Not that I would,” he said quickly to forestall more fighting. The anger in the depths of Sava’s normally good-humoured gaze began to fade. “Trust me. Alandra will be most welcomed in Tanselm. And knowing my sister, Alandra will soon have a mother again, whether she wants one or not.”

Sava visibly relaxed. “Well, then.” He cleared his throat. “I’d ask you to stay, but you make my people nervous. They only know of the horrors you perpetrate, and not of your giving nature to us of Shadow.”

Arim snorted. “On that note, I’ll leave. Let me know when you’re coming to Tanselm,” he warned lightly. “I’d hate to kill you before greeting you properly.”

Sava nodded, a light in his eyes. “But of course. Must follow society’s dictates. And the next time you show up in my tower, you’d better have several gorgeous women on your arm, or at least a treasure in gold. No offence, but Aerolus isn’t exactly a valuable commodity here.”

Chuckling, Arim nodded. He gripped Sava by the forearm before taking his leave. Teleporting back to Tanselm, he searched for Ravyn to see if Aerolus had returned. He found her with Darius, Marcus and their respective affai in her personal chambers. She glanced up, hope in her eyes, in her wary smile. But seeing him alone caused her face to fall.

“Aerolus is in trouble,” she said, tears falling from her dulled gaze. “You have to find him, Arim. Find him and save him. I can’t lose my son. He’s not ready to see his father again. Not yet, not like this.”

She cried harder, and Tessa and Samantha pulled her close. Darius and Marcus ushered him from their mother’s chamber.

“We’ve searched the kingdoms with spells, a scrying tablet and on foot. We can’t find him, or Alandra.” Marcus spoke stiffly, worry leeching from his voice.

“He’s hurt, bad,” Darius growled, frustration lacing his words. “I’ve never felt so much pain. If we don’t find him soon—”

“There won’t be an Aerolus left to find at all,” Marcus finished softly.

Aerolus couldn’t breathe. He knew he was in Tanselm, and that he lay next to his affai. Peace should have been in his grasp, but a sense of wrongness filled him, and with it, a worry that Alandra still faced grave danger. He wanted to turn to her, to feel her again. But he couldn’t move his hand, couldn’t feel anything at all.

Struggling, he tried to roll to his belly, to reach for her, to use the winds as his aid, but to no avail.

He began slipping, slowly edging closer and closer to the murky warmth of something most unwelcome…

“Not yet.” A husky, familiar voice called him back. He felt cool fingers touch his brow, bringing comfort from the pain of almost losing everything. “You’re needed here, by so many who love you,” she said softly.

Images of Alandra, his mother, his brothers and new sisters flashed through his mind. The scents of iria , of musty, ageless scrolls and withered texts, of a fresh breeze lingering over the magic of Tanselm filled him with joy.

“Come back, sweet,” she whispered and kissed his lips softly. A humbling coolness breathed new life into his tired body, and suddenly, his aches and pains melded into vibrancy, into dire, urgent need for the one woman his heart would ever love.

A soft surge whispered over the wind, and he opened his eyes to find Alandra smiling down at him.

“There you are,” she teased, feathering her touch over his lips. “I’ve missed you.” Her eyes suddenly misted, and she kissed him with desperate elation. “Don’t do that, Aerolus. I don’t like it when you lay so still.”

“Then what would you suggest, affai ?”

Seeing his perfect bride, her eyes filled with tears and her lips trembling with love, for him, broke through his calm. A zeal to reaffirm life, to embrace the magic and passion of his love, caused his blood to surge as incredible lust overwhelmed him. Spelling the clothes from their bodies, he lifted Alandra over him and filled her with his heat, stealing her words before they could be spilt.

She moaned and ran her fingers through his hair as he licked and nipped at her full, distended nipples. “You’re so big inside me.”

“Yes, as it should be.” He sucked her nipples hard. “Like warm cherries,” he murmured and drew them deep.