Zoa licked her lips. “There is a way, but it’s not perfect and the price is high.” She glanced at Jeric. “We could bind you.”
“Bind me?” Izar said. Jeric looked confused as well.
Zoa reached out and lay a hand on Jeric’s shoulder. “We are protected from Toric’s power by Dezira’s claim. The Moon does not tolerate others meddling with her Own. In the same way, Avatars of Dezira can claim others, placing them under their protection. It’s not nearly so strong as the goddess’s bond. Honestly, I alone wouldn’t be enough to protect you from a strong dark moon like Toric. But if Jeric and I both bound you, especially with the barriers Jeric has been able to create, it might be enough to shelter you from Toric’s lust.”
“Sounds fantastic,” Izar said, his handsome face breaking into a boyish grin. “What’s the price?”
“Dezira’s bonds are permanent,” Zoa said. “Once we’ve bound you, you’ll be tied to us until you die.”
She let the words drift into silence, but Izar only arched an eyebrow. “And?”
“And forever is forever,” Zoa said. “This is deep magic, Izar. It’s like the bond that forms when one Avatar brings another into power, but even more invasive. You’ll be able to feel us all the time, whether you like it or not, but we won’t be able to feel you. Our power will shelter you from the influence of other Avatars, especially Dezira’s Chosen, but you’ll be seen by other Chosen as…” She trailed off, her face pulling down in a worried frown. “Well, not a slave exactly, but definitely something stronger than a servant. Any attempts against you will be seen as attempts against us and any words you speak will be said in our name. You will be mostly immune to magic other than our own, but our magic will hit you harder than ever.”
“I’m still waiting for the bad part,” Izar said, grinning wider than ever.
Zoa sighed and cast about, trying to find a way to explain to the exasperating captain that she was not doing him a favor in this, but before she could think of anything, Izar had walked over and knelt down on the floor before her and Jeric, one hand on each of their legs.
“I don’t even see how this could be a question,” he said softly. “We are already bonded by something stronger than mere magic. Even your Silas saw it. The three of us are so tangled together now that no power in the world could rip us apart. You two are bound by your goddess to live as you desire, but my only desire from the first night I had you has been to never lose that paradise. Now you tell me you want to bind me deeper, so my only question is why do you hesitate? Even if the bond did nothing for me, I would take it gladly, because all I want for the rest of my life is to keep you two close. I will tie you tight to me in whatever I can, and if you want to be the ones who provide the rope, then I’ll be the last complain.”
His grip tightened on Zoa’s leg, and from the way his knuckles whitened on Jeric’s, she knew Izar was gripping him just as hard. “I love you both,” he said fiercely. “And I will never, ever let you go. So bind me, spell me, truss me up, I don’t care. The other Chosen can call me your dog all they like, but nothing’s going to stop me from staying by your side.”
Zoa closed her eyes and dropped her head, kissing Izar on the top of his head with a joyful prayer of thanks to the goddess for blessing her with such a man. Two such men, for Jeric was kissing Izar too, and then her, and then grabbing them both and pulling them against himself. She hugged both her lovers so tight she thought their ribs would crack. And then, reluctantly, she broke away and rang the bell for the acolytes.
“We don’t have much time,” she said, turning back to them. “The ceremony is simple, but we must all be purified first. Jeric, you stay with me, I’ll teach you what to do. Izar, they’ll take you to the ritual baths. It might seem like a lot of fuss, but it is necessary if you’re going to be pleasing in Dezira’s sight.
“Don’t see how it could be so bad,” Izar said. “I enjoy a bath.”
“You’ve never had a bath like this,” Zoa said with a grin as the acolyte entered. She winked at Izar and then turned to tell the acolyte to prepare for a binding ceremony. The young woman’s eyes went wide, but as Zoa was a Chosen, the acolyte obeyed without question, taking Izar’s hand and leading him away down the hall.
As they left, Zoa took Jeric and led him in the other direction toward the Chosens’ private bath, talking the whole way about what must be done. Jeric, serious as ever, listened carefully and gave his own opinions. By the time the acolytes arrived, they had the beginnings of an excellent plan.
An hour later, everything was ready. Despite the cold, the weather was fine, and Zoa had decided to hold the ceremony in the temple garden. The garden was the holiest place of the white moons, an apex of power older even than the temple itself. For all that, though, it didn’t look like much. There were no paths or beds of exotic flowers. Instead, the garden was a field at the rear of the temple complex, modeled like the one from Dezira’s visions, and at its highest point was an ancient apple tree, Dezira’s most sacred plant. Beneath the apple tree was a small platform paved in pure-white marble. On top of it, a large, white silk pad had been laid out like a bed. Above it, the acolytes had hung sacred incense in burners from the tree’s branches, now bare for winter. Even so, the power of the place vibrated like a drum as Zoa, Jeric and Silas walked across the grass.
“You’re sure about this?” Silas said, his voice low. “A single binding is one thing, but the two of you, binding the same—”
“I am absolutely sure,” Zoa said, turning to glare at him. “We’re all grown people here, Silas. Jeric and I are Chosen, we know what we desire, but more importantly, Izar has chosen this as well. His is the only opinion that matters, for his life is the one being bound. I told him the truth, the whole truth, and if he is still willing to go through with the ceremony, then I will not insult him by asking more questions.”
Silas made an angry noise. “On your heads be it, then.” He stopped at the edge of the white square. This was a place sacred to the white moon, and just as Zoa could not set foot on the black moon altar at the temple’s lowest point, so Silas was forbidden from stepping on the pure-white stone below the apple tree. “I just hope you know what you’re doing, Zoa,” he muttered.
Zoa smiled. “I do, Silas,” she said, reaching out to pull Jeric close. “For the first time in my life, I know exactly what I desire.”
Silas gave her a tight nod and turned on his heel, marching in ground eating strides back toward the temple. As he vanished from view, Jeric let out the breath he’d been holding. “Are all dark moons so overbearing?”
“Oh, no,” Zoa said. “Silas is much better than most. That’s why he’s the head of the temple. He’s had hundreds of years to learn to control and tact.”
Jeric made a face. “If that’s him with control and tact, I’d hate to think what he was like before.” He glanced slid sideways to Zoa. “Did you ever…”
“What?” Zoa said, grinning wickedly. “Sleep with him? No, thank Dezira. He can rein himself in for the temple and in public, even be the perfect image of the calm and wise leader if things get serious enough, but only a fool would think that Silas was anything other than what he is. He is a dark moon of the Lady, a powerful Chosen who knows exactly what he desires, and he’s willing to squeeze people until he gets it. He doesn’t sleep with white moons at all anymore. He says we break too easily.”
Jeric’s expression went from curious to horrified, and Zoa laughed aloud, reaching out to straighten the white silk of his robe where it sat across his broad shoulders. When she had it arranged, she reached up and brushed her forehead. The white moon flared to life, beautiful and bright even in the direct winter sun. Jeric did so as well, revealing a moon even whiter than her own. Zoa smiled and stood on tiptoe, brushing a kiss to his lips.
“Remember,” she said. “We are no longer merely ourselves now, but Chosen of Dezira. What happens from here out happens in the Lady’s name. Are you prepared, Jeric, Chosen of the Moon?”
Jeric nodded, his face as serious as her own. “As I ever will be, Zoa, marked as the Moon’s Own.”
Zoa nodded and took his hand, leading him to stand beneath the apple tree before the white cushion laid at its base as a procession appeared at the garden gate.
It was a small affair, four acolytes dressed in pure white, white moons painted on their foreheads in mimicry of the Chosen. They walked slowly, with their eyes downcast, for they were merely trappings in this ceremony. The true focus walked between them.
Izar stood at the middle of the acolyte group. Like them, he was dressed in a plain robe of white cotton. His feet were bare, his golden hair freshly washed and dancing in the slight breeze. As he drew closer, Zoa took a deep breath, drawing in the power that hummed through the garden.
At once, the winter chill broke. Warm air, sweet as summer and filled with the smell of apple blossoms rose up around them, driving away winter’s bite. Izar relaxed visibly as he entered the circle of magical warmth, but it was a different heat that entered his eyes when the acolytes led him onto the white altar before the Chosen, a deep burning fire that had nothing to do with summer magic.
Zoa smiled. After being their lover for close to two months now, Izar was better than most mortals at shaking off the natural lust that accompanied all of Dezira’s magic, but even that familiarity couldn’t guard him from this. As he stepped onto the white stone, Zoa and Jeric called their magic, circling the tree, the altar and the beloved man before them with deep, braided coils.
Even the acolytes felt it, but they were well trained. They did not so much as flinch when the magic hit them, but bowed and retreated as quietly as they had come, leaving the three of them alone below the tree on the high hill, looking out over the city below.
Zoa took a deep breath. She’d never performed this ritual before, never even seen it performed, but like all trained Chosen, she knew the words by heart and her heart was in them as she spoke.
“Beloved,” she said. “You come into the Lady’s power to be bound to the Lady’s service. A bond of love, desire and protection as deep and abiding as the earth itself. Is this what you wish?”
“Yes,” Izar said. The word was barely more than a breath, and for a moment, Zoa was afraid the lust from being so close to two Avatars both working their magic was clouding his thinking. That was no good. Izar’s mind had to be fully his own for the ritual to work. But as he lifted his head, Zoa saw Izar’s eyes were clear, strikingly so, and they only got clearer as Jeric began to speak.
“Beloved,” he said, repeating Zoa’s words. “You come into the Lady’s power to be bound to the Lady’s service. A bond of love, desire, and protection as deep and abiding as the earth itself. Is this what you wish?”
“Yes,” Izar said again, more steadily this time.
Zoa looked at Jeric, and then they held out their hands in unison, each taking hold of one of Izar’s shoulders. “The bond begins with trust,” they said together. “Do you trust us with your life, Horace Izar, Captain of the Fifth Legion?”
Izar smiled as they said his given name. “With my life,” he answered.
“Then let it begin,” Zoa and Jeric said in unison, pulling Izar gently to them.
In another god’s service, there would have been more words. A sacrifice, perhaps, or poured libations. But this was Dezira’s rite, a ceremony of deep, binding magic by the will of the Goddess of Desire, and it was performed in fitting fashion.
Zoa and Jeric worked together, removing Izar’s robe and casting it aside, along with their own. He was fully erect already, his eyes wild with the intense desire from the deep, pulsing magic of the place and the spells Zoa and Jeric had woven. Zoa smiled wickedly and reached out with her power, fanning the desire, and the magic, stronger and hotter until Izar was panting before them. As she did this, Jeric stepped behind Izar, running his hands across the captain’s tanned, muscled body. Izar moaned at the soft contact, his member jerking. Zoa just grinned and fanned the flames higher. And then, just when Izar looked ready to go mad, she reached out and touched him.
A moan went through all three of them. As he had been touching Izar, Jeric had also been weaving his power across the captain’s body. Now Zoa did the same, stroking her fingers across his hard chest down the rippling muscles of his abdomen. By the time her hand met Jeric’s at the gentle dip of Izar’s hips, the captain was gasping.
Zoa wasn’t much better. She’d touched her lovers uncountable times over the weeks they’d been together, but never like this. She and Jeric were no longer touching as lovers They were the Chosen of Dezira, Avatars of Desire, and Izar was at the center as they wove the spells through his body, tying themselves indelibly to his soul, his lust, his desire and his heart, marking him as their own just as Dezira had marked them.
Finally, Zoa and Jeric’s trailing fingers reached out to grab Izar’s rock-hard cock. They touched him together and Izar jerked so hard he nearly fell. Jeric caught him before anything could happen, slowly lowering the captain to his knees on the white cushion while Zoa followed him down. She took his cock in both hands, feeling his lust like it was her own, a torrent of power running through her. She accepted it openly, weaving her essence into and around it until they were tied so tight she could feel Jeric’s hands on Izar’s skin like they were caressing her own. The pleasure of it was making her dizzy, but Zoa did not let herself waver. Instead, she bent down slowly and, her tongue curling like a flower, licked the head of Izar’s cock.