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Chapter Twelve: The Cost of Love

It is morning. Erik stares at the ceiling above him as if it can grant his wish to return to Ashtyn. It has been a week since he departed the palace. He has only left the villa a few times. Mostly, to attend the village meetings only to sit idly by as they discuss various matters.

The villagers have been accommodating, despite their brutal defeat when they fought on his behalf against T'Challa. Erik must admit it feels good not to have people look at him like he is the devil in the flesh.

Yet, his mind wanders to his beloved. If Ashtyn were here, she would pepper his cheeks with tender kisses. One thing would lead to another; they would end up fooling around. The thought of her kissing him, touching him, makes his morning wood even harder.

No, he speaks to himself, but his right hand is already making its descend. He tugs his boxers down. His erection springs from its confinement; looking down at himself, he curses softly. His member throbs painfully. He tells himself he needs to take the edge off, but he knows that's a lie.

He rolls his eyes as he lifts the same hand to his mouth and licks his palm. Erik's hand travels down the planes of his toned abs. He grips himself tightly. One stroke causes a moan to escape his lips. Thoughts of Ashtyn's sexy body bombard his mind as he strokes.

"Fuck..." he curses. He is panting on the edge of coming. His touch is masterful, even when dealing with himself. Yet, he knows Ashtyn would have him near tears with her seductive wilds. She would break him in only the way she can.

He comes too soon, and the familiar feeling of unfulfillment settles over him. The chief reason why he hated succumbing to his desires because it never worked. The fire Ashtyn has set within his heart cannot be extinguished by his actions only. He needs her to soothe him, to breathe life into his dead soul. Without her, he fears he will fade into nothingness.

Erik looks down at himself in disgust. His creamy semen coats him. Using the bedsheets, he wipes himself clean. Random thoughts hit him all at once. He should be making sweet love to his Mrs., not giving himself a hand job. He bunches the sheets within his fists and growls as he tosses the coverings onto the floor. The bundled sheets fall at the feet of W'Kabi.

"Frustrated?" W'Kabi asks as he steps over the linen.

Erik slides his bottoms back into place. If anyone else other than W'Kabi arrived unannounced, Erik would have slaughtered them. Yet, W'Kabi has been nothing but a faithful confidante, standing by him despite having every reason in the world to run away. Never could Erik bring himself to lash out against his best man.

"What's up?" Erik greets.

"Haven't you been cooped up long enough?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," Erik counters. He gets out of bed to put on his robe. He sits in the living area on a chair, W'Kabi follows suit, sitting across on a neighboring chair. Erik tries to look relaxed, settle within his skin. Nevertheless, he can tell he isn't selling his act to his friend.

"You are mourning the loss of your love," W'Kabi says. Calling Erik out on his bullshit. "Trust me; I've been there...I'm still there."

Sadly, T'Challa's plan only includes a limited amount of people in the know. Only T'Challa, Ashtyn, and himself knew the scheme. Erik hates keeping the truth from W'Kabi, but the fewer people involved, the more factual the lie appears. After everyone's anguish, if Nakia does not take the bait, it would be all for not.

Erik regards him. Before asking, "Okoye still isn't talking to you?"

"My lady can be a stubborn mistress. I have apologized more times than I can count. I cannot seem to reach her."

"She'll come around. Don't give up," Erik offers. W'Kabi gives a guarded smile, but his faith is fading. Not being able to stand one more minute sitting around feeling sorry for themselves, Erik suggests going out for a ride.

The invitation piques W'Kabi's interest. "A ride? To where?" He asks.

"That's the best part. We ride out, no destination planned. Just let's get gone. Try to outrun our problems. What do you say?"

W'Kabi takes into consideration the proposal before giving Erik a cheeky smirk. "What the hell, let's ride."

It doesn't take long for them to ready themselves for the day trip. W'Kabi stops at the stables where his rhinos await. Of course, he wants to ride his precious rhinos, but this is no bother to Erik. He has never ridden one before, but the challenge of controlling the large beast excites him. He welcomes any distraction from his current dark state of mind.

They mount their beasts. Erik's rhino roars, but a firm tug on the reins stops his insubordination. W'Kabi smirks, "Look at the city slicker showing the beast of the land who's the boss."

"As any true boss does," Erik quips.

W'Kabi's smile widens. "Well, let's see how you handle the open land." He challenges; with a click of his tongue, his rhino charges out of the stable. Erik hurries to catch up. Though, he is handling his rhino well. W'Kabi is the more masterful of the two.

It isn't long before they are on the outskirts. Erik doesn't recognize the land. Yet, the beauty of Africa gives a strange familiarity, a sense of home and belonging. A herd of zebras gallops not too far away from them. They are free, living wild and doing as he only wishes he could do; live without restriction.

Nevertheless, he is a husband and will soon be a father. The notion of family in the past has always been something he desired. He often correlated it with limiting his freedom, but he never felt freer than whenever he's with Ashtyn. It was a lie, a delusion he entertained to continue his path of self-destruction. The revelation releases his anxiety, he exhales. As if his animal can feel the change within him, the creature picks up speed, finally surpassing W'Kabi, who gives a bemused look as they pass by.

W'Kabi shouts for his rhino to catch up. Soon they are racing. Neither of them will relent, both needing to win. Because life has dealt them a mighty blow, but today they will be victorious. The race is neck-to-neck before them is a mountain.

"To the river basin!" W'Kabi shouts.

Erik grins. He set his sights on the mountain's base, their chosen finish line. He urges his rhino, who begins to travel faster. Erik turns his head to see an expression of utter determination set upon W'Kabi's face. The sadness within W'Kabi's voice when he spoke about the dire state of his relationship with Okoye, suddenly burdened Erik's mind. W'Kabi's loyalty to him had cost him the love of his life.

An overwhelming feeling of guilt hit Erik, like a punch to the gut. Erik eases up, decreasing his gait. W'Kabi edge ahead and soon reaches the river basin.

"You cannot beat a Border Tribesman!" W'Kabi roars. Erik comes to a halt before him. Erik smiles, pretending to be wounded by the defeat. However, the joy W'Kabi has over winning made Erik glad.

They decide to rest the rhinos, allowing them to drink from the river. After such a hard race, they deserved a break. The rhinos drink from the river, the two of them rest on the ground enjoying higher convo. It is the kind of easy day that they both needed. For the first time since leaving Ashtyn, he is at peace.


Nakia and Mephisto have been in their lair for weeks. Lack of stimulation and inactivity has left her feeling lethargic. Besides, having sex they haven't done much of nothing. She paces the synthetic palace he has created. Though, she has indulged in every luxury. Nakia grows weary with each passing day.

He tells her to have patience; their time will come. The mind-fucking he does is obvious, but she cannot find the will to break from him. Worst yet, she fears she doesn't want to. Is this want she has asked for, dare she say even prayed for; if so, she deserves a dark faith.

She cannot stand the confines of his prison. He is resting; if a demon can sleep, he does. She breaks free of the glimmer to see the outside world by moving through the shrubbery covering the cave. For a moment, the air is all she senses on her face. She closes her eyes, basking in the serenity. Until she hears chatter below, her eyes widen in a mixture of shock and fear; Killmonger is cheerfully laughing with W'Kabi.

Her sight goes red. How dare Killmonger be carefree when her world is in peril. She cannot decipher if her feelings are her own, or do they sprout from elsewhere. It is of no matter. Nakia must meet this threat with the same defiance they have shown my intruding upon her peace.

Mephisto's power resonates within her. She no longer needs him with her to wield it. She springs upon them, soaring through the air as if she has wings, but her flight spurs from deep within her. Within seconds she is on them. She aims to crash into Killmonger. Somehow, he has become the symbol of all the bad in her life. If she kills him, then she would be free; all will be as it should be.

Purpose reserved for only the most hated enemies; she zones in on him. Her focus is so pinpoint, Nakia fails to see W'Kabi, who dodges between them, just as she unleashes upon her target. Her intended target evades her. Instead, she collides with W'Kabi to the ground in a violent hard tumble.

Only until she has tucked and rolled into a kneeling position, she faces the outcome of her attack. W'Kabi lays motionless on the grassy earth. Killmonger runs to be at his side. Nakia screams and smashes her fist against the ground hard enough to create a crater. Her actions attract the attention of Killmonger, who immediately preps himself into a defensive stance.

Nakia smirks, glad to oblige him in a lengthy battle. One she prays will end with him dead by her hand. They charge, screeching their battle cries as they do. Moments before they are finally to collide, Mephisto materializes between them.

Nakia tries to stop, but her momentum is too great. Yet, it is of no concern to him as he declares, "Enough!"

Then, a brilliant explosion of energy emanates from him. A potent force field slams into her throwing her back. Upon impact with the soil, her body aches. Nakia lifts onto her elbows to peer at Mephisto, and she wishes she hadn't. Mephisto is fuming with anger. His eyes are fiery with the flames from the darkest pits of hades.

She peers over Mephisto's shoulder to see Killmonger trying to get to his feet. Her eyes return to Mephisto's, who is now storming towards her. She doesn't fight against him as he yanks her up by the arm. Before she has a chance to discern his actions, they vanish.

They reappear deep in a jungle; he releases her, not bothering to ensure she is prepared to stand. She nearly falls, but she manages to maintain an upright stance. Before him, she is unsteady and nervous.

"You are like an insolent child!" Mephisto shouts. "You attacked them without thought. Now, our home is no longer safe. What were you thinking?"

Nakia grows silent. For, she has no reasonable explanation. However, he doesn't want a reason. Nakia fears he craves retribution. She turns to move away from him, but he flashes directly behind her, blocking her path.

Shock rips through her as he grabs her neck and squeezes. Mephisto's stare is ruthless, void of any warmth. She croaks, trying desperately to speak to him. He laughs at her plight.

"If you believe that even you could cause me such trouble and go unpunished, you are sadly mistaken," he says. He then flings Nakia like she's nothing more than a ragdoll.

She's winded and tries desperately to scramble to her feet. Nevertheless, Mephisto leaps on top of her, his hands grip her wrists. Pinned, she thrashes about but to no avail.

"Be still, Dearest. You don't want to hurt yourself," he says. She stills. He grows stronger with each passing day. Though her strength is substantial, she is still not a match for him.

"Finally, you are listening. Then hear me well. I will not tolerate you going guns blazing because your precious feelings are hurt. I told you when it is time; I will let you know, but not a moment before."

"You keep on saying that! Keeping me held hostage in your fabricated prison. I do not wish to remain hidden any longer."

"Do you desire freedom? Do you wish to reign? Then heed my direction," his hold tightens, Nakia gasps. Suddenly, concern shows on his face, and he loosens his grip.

"I want so much for you and me. You cannot possibly understand. Be patient, keep with the plan. In the end, I promise you happiness."

"I was a fool to believe anything you ever said to me! Lies are all you ever say to me."


Mephisto snarls. He lifts off her. He wants to leave, abandon her with the same recklessness she had used to spat her poisonous words. This woman is more than infuriating. Then why can't he leave her? He paces away. He should vanish, leave her in the darkness alone, but he will not...he cannot. Is it because of the pain that stabs him like a knife when he thinks about being without her?

Not wishing to dwell on his fickle emotions and erratic thoughts, Mephisto commands Nakia to follow him. Her voice is shaky when she asks, "Where are we going?"

He sighs, feeling exhausted in ways he never imagined. To find another safe location, then...we will lay out our plans for our final attack."

The sadistic smile that spreads across her face is almost enough to make their quarreling worth the tasking effort, almost. She quickly catches up.

and keeps pace with him.

"We will walk?" She asks.

"For a time, it will help to clear my mind." To that, she is quiet for a long while. He can tell something is on her mind. It bothers him when she keeps her thoughts to herself. He could peer into her mind, but he prefers her to tell him.

He asks, and she says, "Why do you think Killmonger is so far from the palace? True, he and W'Kabi are friends, but W'Kabi is an outcast thanks to his role in the feud."

Mephisto pauses, he turns to face her. "Perhaps we should gain some more intel on our targets. Maybe the dynamics have changed."

"Agreed."

Mephisto grips her waist and presses her firmly against himself. Soon they are moving throughout the air in a whirlwind. They land at the palace. Nakia tenses, but he informs her they are well hidden behind the bushes which surround the courtyard. Also, he reminds her all they are to do is gain intel.

After thousands of years of living, few things spark his interest. His current band of enemies intrigues him, and though they could attack and be victorious. It would be wiser to be prepared and to address any possible undesirable outcomes.

There seems to be some commotion. The palace is prepping for some big celebration of sorts. Decorations are hanging, and servants carts exotic foods inside. They have missed some major news, but what is it?

Then, within earshot, two servants gossip about the news.

"I still cannot believe it," says one.

"Neither can I, but King T'Challa has chosen a replacement," replies the other.

"Yes, but his cousin's mistress? It is scandalous."

Mephisto feels Nakia's body begin to tremble. He can feel her rage subtly he tightens his control over her.

"Imagine, Queen Ashtyn. Not only the queen once, but twice!"

"Being queen may be amazing. However, she's a lucky woman to have had the pleasure of two handsome men."

The other servant swats her friend's arm playfully, but their innocent conversation causes a fury of wrath to erupt from Nakia. She begins to pull away from his control, as she rages on, he struggles to hold onto her. Perhaps her power has grown beyond his estimation? He has no choice but to surge an electric charge throughout her body that causes her to fall unconscious.

He vanishes with her cradled within his arms. The cave isn't safe, so he returns to the clearing in the jungle. He hates living in the wild it reminded him far too much of his time spent in purgatory. Closing his eyes, he envisions a cottage, small and quaint but suitable for their needs.

He enters the cottage and lays her onto the sofa. She will be out for a few hours, at least he hopes. Mephisto collapses onto a nearby chair. Even in rest, Nakia is seething with anger. He has nurtured her violent tendencies, but now he fears it is going to get her killed.

His evil has no bounds, it seems. Even when he wishes to do good, his nature corrupts everything and everyone around him. Now, she's mad with bloodlust, and it is no one's fault but his own. She sighs, the scowl on her face deepens. Mephisto grabs a knitted quilt and smooths it gently over her.

"Dearest, I vow to do right by you. One way or another," Mephisto promises. Then kisses her forehead. He resides to watching her slumber. Rain begins to thump against the windowpane, matching the growing discontent within his heart. It shouldn't be possible, yet here it is. He has tried to deny his feelings, but he can no longer.

He will admit it, just this once, in the quietness and the solitude of the lonely cottage.

"I love you."

A/N: Hello my glorious readers! I hope you enjoyed the story. Until next time! Blessings ~Concrete Lily.