Chapter Four:
Her entire body felt like it was on fire.
She had only dozed off for an hour before the throbbing in her side had grown so painful, she had been forced right out of her blissful darkness. It felt like a thousand hot knives were digging into her, ripping her apart inch by inch. She had never felt such excruciating agony before in her lifetime.
And that scared her.
Celena had experienced death more times than she could ever count, but this was the first time she had ever desired it to come to her. It would be quicker, less painful than this torture.
But death never came for her, not even as her body began seizing violently, whimpers and cries sounding from her lips. She tried so desperately to keep the screams at bay, to keep what little dignity she had left. But eventually they too were echoing in the room.
Time felt like it was passing slowly as the torment continued. Seconds felt like hours, and minutes felt like an eternity. Celena no longer had any sense of time, or even of reality. All she knew was the pain.
That and the energy that was coursing through her.
Celena struggled to contain herself, to maintain what little control that she could. She knew the consequences if the raw energy was released, if it seeped out of her and to the other occupants of the hotel. All hell would break loose.
"What the hell is happening?" a voice seethed from the other end of the couch.
The voice sounded so far away, but she could recognize it as Eric's.
He had woken up long before he should have, only an hour after he had fallen into his day rest. Never had he been woken with such a start before, nor had he ever felt such an array of emotions. Not even when he had been first turned had he wanted to both fuck and kill to this degree. It was all the Viking could think about, his fangs aching as they slid from his gums. His arousal grew hard, almost painful, as he remained restrained in his pants. He wanted nothing more than to find the closest being and fuck them into oblivion. And then he would rip into their flesh, draining them dry of every single drop of blood he possibly could.
He was losing control.
And she could see that.
Through heavy lidded eyes, Celena watched the vampire consider her shaking form, his eyes raking along her body. She was no longer able to hide her scent, and she knew that along with the energy she couldn't control, the Viking was becoming erratic. She couldn't blame him. She was radiating love and war, lust and hunger. She truly was her parent's child in that moment. Not even thousands of years of control could aid her in shielding herself.
"E-Eric," she called to him, doing her best to push through the agonizing torture. She needed to focus on him, to reign him back in.
Before he got himself killed.
"Go," Celena urged him, her orbs darting towards the door. Even if he were just outside in the hallway, the desires wouldn't be as strong. The four walls around her barely were able to contain the mass of energy rolling off of her, but as she mustered whatever strength she could, it was the only thing that was going to protect him. "You need to go."
The plea caused Eric to pause, a flicker of his calm, stoic self, appearing in his darkened gaze. His stare fell to her side, and the bloodlust was momentarily forgotten. The wound seemed deeper than it had only hours ago, bleeding harder that it had been.
"I thought you were supposed to heal?" his voice was low, his hands curling into tight fists as he remained rooted to the spot. His nostrils were flaring with her scent, and it was taking everything that he had to not take her right then and there.
Celena clenched her teeth together. Why wasn't he leaving? "You need to leave. You need to…fuck!" a scream ripped from her throat, another wave of her great power escaping it's containment.
Eric stumbled backwards as he was hit dead in the chest. That was it. That was all it took.
He was beside the couch in seconds, hovering over her moments later as his fangs dove for her neck. Pressed against her pulsing vein, Eric gleefully prepared himself for the onslaught of her delicious blood. Before he could sink his fangs into her, however, he felt a sharp tug. But it wasn't physical. The Goddess beneath him barely had enough strength to whimper for him to stop. No, this tug was deep inside of him, a place only two others could reach.
His blood bond with his maker and child flooded through him. He could feel Pam's worry and annoyance. He could feel Godric's calmness and concern. He tried to shove the opposing emotions aside, to continue in his search for his prize. But he couldn't. They were grasping onto him, onto his sanity, onto what little rational that he had, and they sent what they could of their own. Pam concentrated on his lust, on his sexual frustration, while Godric latched onto his hunger to make it his own.
Within only moments, his thoughts began to clear, the haze of urges slowly beginning to fade away until he was releasing Celena's shoulders, not even realizing he had been grasping tightly onto them. Rising above her, Eric cursed under his breath when found her eyes rolling into the back of her head. He didn't understand what was happening to her, what was causing this, but he sure as hell wasn't going to be bringing a dead Goddess back to Godric. That would only send his depressed maker over the edge.
"Damn it, Princess," he growled, ripping his wrist open and grasping onto her chin as he forced her lips to part. "You need to drink."
She was useless, unable to hear or comprehend anything that was occurring around her. A string of Old Norse sounded above her, but that was all she grasped of reality.
"Come on, Princess," he pressed his wrist against her lip and tipped her chin up as his blood dripped past her tongue and down her throat. She wouldn't swallow, however, causing his patience to begin to wane. "Drink, you little brat!"
Frustrated, Eric began massaging her throat, a feat nearly impossible to do as her body shook.
"I swear if you die on me before I get you to Godric, I will resurrect you and kill you myself," he grunted with narrowed eyes, reopening the wound. "Drink the god damn blood, Princess."
It took ripping his wrist open a third time before he began noticing a change. The shaking began to calm, her scent tucking itself back away. As he glanced at her side, he was relieved to find the skin healing. There was no way he was going to deal with Godric's wrath if he hadn't been able to keep a mere girl alive. Goddess or not.
"You're more trouble than you're worth," he muttered to himself as he lifted his wrist back to his fangs. A hand flew out to stop him, however, before he could give her him blood once more.
"Enough," her voice was tiny, sounding more human than he thought possible.
He raised an eyebrow but complied as he moved off of her, settling instead on the ground with his back leaning against the coffee table. He did his best to compose himself as Celena's breathing grew calmer. He could still feel the reminisce of the Goddess's power, of her raw energy. It was still stirring deep inside of him, just waiting to be set free. If it weren't for his maker and child, he likely would have lost himself again. But both were doing their best to keep him under control.
"I seriously underestimated you," Eric admitted, his gaze sweeping over the Goddess. Her body was still, her chest rising every so often. Her heart was no longer beating in a frenzy, instead a gently thumping that was almost relaxing to the Viking. "What the hell was that?"
"I don't know," Celena admitted, her mouth dry. She licked her lips as her eyes fluttered close as she waited for the remaining of her body to heal. She didn't know the effect of vampire's blood, never ingesting the substance before. It would heal a human in seconds, she knew, but a Goddess? No, it was working at a much slower rate. But it was working, and she had to admit that she was grateful for the Viking. "I suppose I owe you a thank you."
"Lets just say you owe me," he mused, eyeing her closely. "What was that, Princess? I've never seen anything like that before."
But she hadn't been lying. Celena didn't know what had just occurred. She tried to remember throughout her thousands of years of ever coming across anything similar, but she was just at a loss for words.
The only possible explanation was a suspicion she never wanted to have.
"Hm?" Eric prodded. He wanted answers. He wanted to know exactly what had nearly just tuned him into a raging lunatic that would have been no better than a newborn vampire. "What did you do to me?"
Celena slowly began to rise, despite her body's aches and pains. A large hand swiftly came down onto her shoulder, however, forcing her onto her back.
"Just rest, your highness. And explain," he ordered, not caring at all that she was a powerful Goddess. He was only realizing now just how powerful she truly was. "What happened? What was that?"
"Each God or Goddess is gifted with their own ability. My mother is the Goddess of Love, as you know, and my father the God of War. As their daughter, I inherited a fraction of each of theirs, but I was also born with my own," the Goddess began.
Eric's eyebrows furrowed. "At that tiny little shack your tried to call your home, there was a point I felt weak, as if I should have fallen into my day rest. That was you, wasn't it?"
"Yes," she nodded, turning her head to watch the Viking's reaction. "I have the gift of manipulating energy."
"And you didn't utilize that against the Demigods?" he raised an eyebrow.
"We are born with our gifts suppressed. We train to control them as we get older. When we reach adulthood, we are supposed to become one with our abilities."
"Supposed to?"
Celena smiled sadly. "I wasn't raised in Olympus. I wasn't raised like a normal Goddess. While my gifts grew, I never became a true Goddess, I supposed you could say. My abilities are still bound, locked away inside of me. They always have been, and I suppose they may always will be."
There was a frown on Eric's lips. He was wishing now he had asked his maker more questions about the Goddess. What Godric had told him didn't sizzle any of his intrigue. "So then what happened to you, Princess? Since we're playing story time."
"I wasn't lying, Eric," she shrugged, though worry was apparent on her face. "I've never felt anything so…painful before. And I've endured a great deal of torture in my lifetime."
"There has to be an explanation."
Celena chewed on her bottom lip nervously. It was such a human thing to do, that Eric was surprised at the action. She appeared so normal, but even when he first found her, she was so very much other, that to see such a human trait, it was unnerving. Something was wrong, he knew. And he wasn't entirely sure he wasn't to find out what.
"The only explanation is a suspicion, and it is one that could lead to a war I had hoped to never be a part of."
It was all she could tell him. Until she spoke to her sources, until someone listened to her prayers and shed some light on whatever had happened. Kyros' threats continued to haunt her, and that only made her more concerned. Something was coming, something that was going to destroy everything in its path.
Including her and everything she held dearly, she was sure.
"There's nothing more that can be done," she began to rise again, shooting the Viking a glare when he tried to stop her. Rolling his eyes, Eric sat back and watched as she rose with her back now against the arm of the couch. "Thank you, Eric. I mean that. If you hadn't of given me your blood, I can't even imagine the chaos it would have brought this entire hotel had that energy escaped this room."
The sincerity in her words caused Eric's frown to deepen. He wasn't one for mushy. He wasn't one for kindness or caring. He was a Viking for fucks sakes.
"Don't mention. I mean it. Don't. I have a reputation to uphold," his eyes narrowed. "I'm sure it was nothing different than Godric has done in the past."
"You'd be surprised," she shook her head. "Yours was the first blood I've had."
This surprised him. "Not once in the thousand years the two of you travelled, you ever had his blood? Not even when the two of you fucked?"
Celena blinked at his abruptness, and couldn't help the light pink flush that warmed her cheeks. "I'll have you know Godric and I were never together."
Eric roared with laughter. His maker, the one who used to fuck and kill just as much as the Viking, had never taken this Goddess even once? "He was an idiot."
"He was a friend, and was kind enough not to throw himself at me, nor I him," she childishly felt she needed to defend herself.
That smirk she almost missed returned to the blonde's lips. "Travelling with the daughter of Aphrodite, and never having her? What a missed opportunity."
It was her turn to roll her eyes. "Keep this up, and I won't correct your maker's terrible story telling of our time together."
This immediately caused the Viking to quiet.
"But not now," she quickly dashed his hopes. "You have the bleeds; you need to rest."
Eric sighed in resignation, but nodded, rising to his feet. He collected her in his arms just as quickly, much to her grief.
"Put me down, Viking," she snarled, glaring darkly at the smug vampire. "Now."
"The next time you lose control I don't want to go very far. You'll do better beside me, Princess," he walked them across the room to the bed, dumping her onto one side.
"I thought I warned you about calling me that," she would have sent him a warning pulse of energy, but she was barely able to do much more than keep her eyes open at that point. Celena knew Eric's blood would only last for so long until the poison that had seeped inside of her was to return. It was clear now that whatever weapon Kyros had given his minion, it was much more than an average blade. The more she delved into her worries, however, the more concerned she became.
There was only one weapon that was able to cause so much destruction, and it was supposed to be tucked away with Hades in the underworld.
A/N: A big thank you to everyone that has taken an interest in this fic, I appreciate every reader a whole lot. I love each and every one of you for even reading this fic, and I hope you all continue to do so!