Werewulf Journals 4: Sated Pleasures (15 page)

“You really do need to do something about that bossy habit you have. It’s annoying. Ah well.” Aricles shrugged. “I suppose you come by it naturally.”

“You should talk, Aricles.”

“Actually, that should be Kyrios Aricles to you, but touché, as I’ve been told I am quite bossy. That being said, I believe I’ll follow your suggestion and start talking.” Deciding Rickard deserved a reward for keeping his cool -- not that he would have gained anything had he chosen otherwise -- Aricles stepped up to him and carefully transferred the warm bulk of the still slumbering feline back into the waiting cradle of the other’s arms. “Here, hold this for me.”

If marble could relax, the prince managed it, his immobile body almost melting, eyes going a soft, clear blue. He barked a short laugh at the man’s revealing response.

Love screamed from Rickard’s every silent pore and Aricles bowed his head. His heart-sister couldn’t find a man more in love with her if she searched three galaxies.

“We’ve gotten off to a bad beginning, Your Highness. Allow me to start over.”

Bowing from the waist -- a nifty feat hanging ten yards in the air, if he did say so --

Aricles introduced himself. “I am Kyrios Aricles, bastard son of the goddess Aphrodite and Alexander of Macedon. Born to him in the year 328 B.C., I lived as a human child in the care of Roxana of Balkh until Alexander’s generals, determined to remove the only obstacles stopping them from splitting up Greece and parceling the country among them, finally caught up with us and slaughtered her before my face. I, too, died that day. Aricles of Macedon became Aricles of Olympus, an immortal, but not an eternal. Shunned by the gods and discarded by men, I was eternal prey and in return, I preyed on mortals, meted pain and suffering in like measure that I received them.”

“Wait!”

Aricles paused and glanced at Rickard.

“You are the son of Alexander the Great? You expect me to believe that?”

“Does my tale seem farfetched? It gets wilder, my friend, believe me.”

“Alexander of Macedon conquered the known world. At the time of his death, he was lord of the Earth. If what you say is true, you are the rightful king of…”

Aricles breathed in on a long sigh. “Your throne is safe from me. I lay all that aside centuries ago.”

Rickard chuckled. “Drestovia has always been free. Ours was one kingdom Alexander did not take.”

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Aricles snorted. “Of course not, because it wasn’t part of the known world at the time.”

“True, but he’d planned to carry out his aggression to other parts of the world. The conqueror turned back from war when his troops refused to follow him further. He planned a spring campaign but died before he could carry it out. If he’d tried, though, my ancestors would have had a surprise waiting for him. Our wulves are formidable in battle.”

Mouth widening in amused praise, Aricles applauded. “Congratulations. Drestovia holds a distinction not many countries can claim. Her kings are kings, indeed when their subjects are wulf warriors.”

It was Rickard’s turn to snort. “Perhaps because her kings have all been princes, knowledgeable that their subjects could arise and take them out in a heartbeat.”

That easily, they were laughing together. It felt good, talking to this man as an equal, Ari realized. It had been far too long since he’d done so. All his friends were…different --

like, yet not like him. He’d revealed himself, his powers to this human and he hadn’t fallen at his feet, groveling. Well, he couldn’t very well do that held in stasis, but he’d not kowtowed by word or deed. For the second time that day, Aricles found himself admiring Rickard, knowing he could be a friend, wishing they would find that road and travel down it side by side. Being a demigod exiled from all the rest, cursed to be alone, grew tiresome.

Coming to an abrupt decision, Aricles released Rickard from his hold. “Please forgive me. I erred with you and I’m sorry for it. Being half god does not make me infallible, as you’ve had cause to see today.”

Rickard nodded curtly. “Why do you need a man who will swear to only you?”

“That was what got us started, wasn’t it?” Aricles sighed. “I am cursed. Aphrodite, though married to Hephaestus, is in an open alliance with Ares, the god of War. She cheated on him with my father. Ares has hated me from day one. When Hephaestus took me in, adopted me, Ares could no longer attack me openly. He didn’t have to. His influence kept the majority of the gods from accepting me. To please him, some took joy in torturing me when I was too weak to fight back. Living in Mount Olympus, partaking of the food and drink, soon brought me into my full powers, minimal as they were.”

“Humph.” Rickard pursed his lips. “Looked pretty impressive from where I was standing.”

“You think so?” Aricles sighed. “I can walk through time, harness the thunder and lightning, and control the elements, yet, for all that, I cannot share a kiss with a sister in simple loving affection, or clasp hands with a friend in camaraderie. Given a choice between the two powers, which would you choose?”

Rickard looked down at Indigo, his eyes full of wonder and an emotion far greater than affection. “The latter, hands down.”

“I need to bind one of your men to me so I can focus on him as a base while I’m time-walking. The best candidate would be a hetero male in a sexual relationship.”

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“Why hetero? I ask because the majority of the men are wulves. Their race has a shortage of women and they have no problem accommodating either sex.”

“I’ve found an honorable man, striving to be true to his vows, can better withstand the poison of lust. And that is what my touch is: instant, unrelenting lust.”

Rickard smiled. “I’m not hearing a downside to this. You can literally have anyone you want. How is that bad?”

Aricles closed his eyes, cursing total recall, which kept his experiences ever fresh and unfading. “It doesn’t wear off. Ever…and only a very rare few are immune to it.”

“Ouch! That could prove awkward.”

“Imagine…you’re walking down the street, coming home from a productive time at the market. Someone jostles you and you begin to tumble. Miraculously, a hand catches you, stops your fall and you look up into the eyes of your savior. You forget everything. Nothing matters: not the husband you love, or the nursing child you left at home. The only thing that matters is giving yourself to the one who owns you. You’ll lay down anywhere, in the street, in an alley, even the atrium of the temple…doesn’t matter. You have to have his cock in you constantly.”

Rickard looked paler than usual. “That’s…”

“Horrific? Yes. Even more horrible is that, the first time it happened, I didn’t have a clue. I’d only recently reformed, repented of my crimes against humanity. I decided to be of some use in the world, use my powers to heal and not hurt. The day I stopped that woman from falling I went on my way, thinking I’d done my good deed for the day. I had no way of knowing she followed me until she dropped from exhaustion. When friends found her, carried her home, the poor wretch refused to feed her child, kept trying to escape to find me.

Finally, she stopped eating and sleeping, did nothing but masturbate, chanting my name. She died before the year was out, pining for me. When I returned years later to lead the harvest festivals, I found the citizens of the town remote and resentful. I’d become a deity to be feared and hated.”

Looking somber, Rickard whispered, “I don’t think I could stand being the cause of that. How do you? More to the point, how do you navigate the normal hustle and bustle of the city?”

“Very carefully. Over the years, I’ve managed to find way to mitigate the effects. The larger the exposure to my skin, the more intense is the desire the recipient feels. So if I touch the tip of my finger to theirs for a second, it will not engender the deeply focused lust as say, shaking hands with me would bring about.”

Rickard grimaced in sympathy. “I so do not want to be you.”

“Few do.” He grimaced. “It’s a bit like Disney’s Genie: phenomenal cosmic power coupled with an itty-bitty living space.”

“Humph!” That made Rickard smile. “You’re like a brother to her, huh?”

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“In the beginning, had it not been for the curse, there was the potential

for…something else.” Aricles spread his hands. “Now, though? Yes, she is my heart’s sister and I would not change that. It would be a great loss.”

Rickard breathed out on a sigh. “About that helper…let me call Pavel. I think I know just the wulf to assist you.”

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Deus Ex Machina

(Godly Interference)

They met at the edge of the jungle, not far from the landing strip. Brandon stuck out his hand. “Hello, sir. My name is Brandon Rogers. My Alpha has requested I assist you. I’ve searched this area for you as your note suggested and found fresh scent and spoor left by Delin. What else would you like me to do?”

Aricles softened his lips in what others might consider a smile. “Good job, Mr. Rogers.

Forgive me if I don’t shake hands with you. You’ll understand my reticence shortly.”

The young wulf looked puzzled, but didn’t comment, simply nodding his head. Aricles liked that. “Tell me Mr. Rogers, what do you know about the rogue wulf, Delin?”

The youngster smiled. “Please sir, just Brandon. I’m the youngest trainer here, and if the other wulves heard you calling me ‘Mister,’ they’d rag me forever. It’s a pack thing. As for Delin…” His sunny expression fading, Brandon’s face took on a cast all lines in sharp angles. Eyes turning gold with the heat of change, he fell into a half crouch, fangs and claws emerging. “I know he’s filth, hurting innocents and attacking noncombatants. I know he’s dead if I get my paws on him.”

Aricles found himself reevaluating his earlier assessment of Brandon’s youth. Though young, this was no cub standing before him, but a feral fighting machine. He wouldn’t mistake him for a child again. “Thank you, that’s all I needed to hear on that matter.

However, I do need a little more information, this time about any romantic liaisons you might have. So tell me Brandon, are you in love?”

Looking as if he wanted to bolt, Brandon eyed him askance, nervously licking his lips.

“Alpha Janecek has said no wulf has to give sexual service against his will, regardless of his standing in the pack.”

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Aricles smiled, knowing exactly what Brandon had to be thinking, knowing the wulf’s musings weren’t that unusual. As a demigod of lust, he’d found such thoughts were generally inevitable in mortals whenever they stood in close proximity to him. “As I am not pack, you have nothing to worry about on that score. Now answer my question.”

Brandon swallowed. “Yes, I love someone, but what does that have to do with this business of yours?”

“Quite a lot, actually,” Aricles murmured, removing his gloves with slow, deliberate motions, “as I’m hoping it will help you survive what I’m about to do to you.”

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Kaila 1: Monsters 0

Kaila screamed again. “I’ve got your filthy, rotten lying monster right here!” She rained blows at Pavel, beating on his furry chest.

Dismayed, he shifted back to skin form so fast his skin stung and a headache pounded at his temples. He grabbed at his hysterical mate, dodging her flailing arms, trying to soothe her. He caught her hands, tugged her off balance to hold her close. “Kaila! Kaila, stop! It’s all right. I’ve changed back. You don’t have to look at me like that.”

She fell to the bed, still fighting and scratching at him. “Don’t blame this on your looks, and get off me! Let me go!” Gasping, glaring at him through the tears flooding her face, she snapped, “It’s not all right! It will never be all right, Pavel. Do you know how long I’ve waited for you to show me your mid-form, patiently waited for you to take our relationship to the next level? You’re the one hiding monsters, not me! Were you ever going to tell me?”

Pavel felt dizzy. “Wait! Wait, Kaila. What are you saying? How did you know to call it mid-form?” His jaw hardened as he realized someone had betrayed him. Had Rickard, thinking he knew best, dared to spill his secrets? “Who told you about that?”

“You answer me, first,” she demanded. Her eyes glittered with hot anger and hurt.

He addressed the hurt. “I was afraid. I saw how you reacted to my fur form, calling me monster, and my heart quaked. Every single time I tried to tell you -- and believe me, I started to tell you a hundred times in a day -- something would happen, or you would say something that made my courage dissolve like snowflakes in the summer.”

He ran his hands through his hair, and interlocked them at the back of his head, afraid he might grab her, knowing she wasn’t ready for that yet. “I have waited so many lonely years for you to come into my life, I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. If keeping you at my side meant subduing that part of me, hiding it from you forever, I was prepared to do that.”

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Kaila narrowed her eyes at him. “Yet you’re constantly going on and on about how I should trust you, believe in your love. You have ragged me daily about how beautiful I am in your sight, how outward imperfections are nothing when seen through the eyes of love.”

“Kaila, you can’t understand…”

“You’re damned straight I can’t.” Her agitated riposte rolled right over his bumbling excuse. “I can’t understand how you could do this to me. I don’t know if we can survive this, Pavel.”

Pavel swallowed, cold fear settling in the pit of his belly. “I don’t understand why you’re so angry when I was only trying to protect you.”

“Oooh, Pavel…!” Face twisted in a frown, Kaila jumped up on the bed and grabbed two fistfuls of his hair. She yanked his head down to hers and yelled into his face, her words thick with tears. “I am angry because you’ve hurt me. I am furious because you make me crazy. You can’t trust in my love for you because yours doesn’t exist. You might say you love me with your mouth, but you prove you don’t by your actions.”