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Souls of the Night – Vol3
58
Seeing Ares in the dungeon was disturbing. Even though I had been here so often myself. I had woken up here for weeks because I hadn't been able to control my flames after waking up. Now the silver water sprinklers on the ceiling seemed out of place. Ares was sitting cross-legged on the floor in one of the cells with his back to me. He was naked. How much of a gargoyle was I now that his nakedness didn't bother me at all? I noticed the pile of clothes, smelling faintly of smoke, meticulously folded on one of the benches against the wall in a way I couldn't have done more neatly myself. Next to it was his broken bow and every arrow was broken too.
"Tachi will appreciate you not rolling around on the floor with her creations." The sentence came out much less flippantly than I had intended. I saw Ares' ears twitch but there was no further reaction.
"You broke your bow and arrows," I said matter-of-factly.
Ares took a deep breath. The long strands of athlete's muscle in his torso moved in a strikingly elegant way. But he didn't look at me. He had not folded his tan wings over his shoulders. Instead, they hung down at his sides as much as the joints in them would allow and it had something of an injured moth whose wings had been pulled by a vicious child. Or as if Ares was denying himself the warmth his wings could provide. He sat with the wall in front of his eyes and didn't take his eyes off it, his voice sounding stoic and hard.
"An archer is nothing without his bow. I'm nothing so I don't need a bow. Especially not in here."
"No. Not in here," I said softly, quite affected by his depressing logic, and stepped through the dungeon door, which was only ajar. When I was beside him, I crouched down but gasped as Ares turned his head. His upper body and face were covered in wounds and swelling bruises. No matter what happened, I would NEVER mess with Tachi.
"I'm not going to fight you," he stated.
"That - I hadn't even thought of that - was that an option?" I asked, a little scared, and Ares quirked a corner of his mouth.
"You have the right to retribution. It wouldn't even dishonor you if you killed me backwards."
"I don't want to kill you, Ares. And ... I don't know much about honor, but killing always has something degrading about it, I think. Whether from the front or the back."
Ares raised his head and looked at me directly and hauntingly for the first time. Dark, sad eyes and yet something stoic in them. Then his gaze fell on the tray.
"Ah, yes. This. I want you to eat," I said and put the tray down. He stared at the plates and glasses and I chalked it up as a big win that none of it flew towards my head.
"That would only delay the inevitable," he said, turning his head back to the wall even though I could see how hungry his gaze had been.
"That sounds like you're trying to starve yourself to death," I joked, but lost my smile when Ares' dead-pan look confirmed my nonsense.
"Oh. Oh, okay. That's... extreme, don't you think?"
Ares grumbled as if my presence was worse than being naked and starving in a dungeon, staring at a bare rock face until the end of his days.
"Why don't you turn towards me and we can eat," I asked patiently.
"Stop playing with me, Nathaniel Sharif," he spat. "Kill me or hurt me - that would be your right. But don't play Sister Therese."
"I ... Um, I think her name was Mother Teresa." I raised my hands apologetically as he glared venomously at me.
"If it wasn't enough to scratch you with the arrow, I would have killed you. Or let you die. Lexington, too. I gave no thought to my former mates or their clan. I deserve punishment, not pampering," he listed to me coolly, as if I were a mentally impaired but annoying child. I probably was to him because I realized he knew so much more than he was telling me. Maybe even more than he could tell me. Was it a ban from Alex? Or simply his own decision that I wasn't worthy of the information? At the same time, I was a little relieved. If it wasn't Ares' actual desire to kill me, what would have been the point of just scratching me with the arrow? But I had to approach the matter slowly. I wanted to understand Ares - not interrogate him like a criminal.
"Wow," I said, slowly sitting down next to him.
"What WOW!" he snapped.
I wasn't really a master of sarcasm like Nashville or as manipulative as Tachi, but I laughed quietly and took Ares' death glare pretty well.
"Wow - because everything, everything about your sentence was wrong."
"I'll accept any corporal punishment but I will not be mocked by you," he growled and that was SO much better than his stoic tense poker face. Wait- was I pushing buttons right now? Nathaniel Sharif, who anyone could see through with ease, who anyone could steer in any direction they wanted, was pushing someone else's buttons right now? Oh boy! The high from the realization made me bold. I put a hand on his shoulder and although he stiffened under the touch - indeed something like fear stole into his expression even though I couldn't tell why exactly - he didn't slap my hand away.
"I don't think you're as frigid as you pretend to be. I think you really thought taking me out would help keep the clan and your mates safe. That's somehow very loving."
Ares stared at me in horror for a moment before snorting and laughing so boisterously that his voice echoed throughout the dungeon. And he laughed and laughed and I started laughing too and we both squatted next to each other like friends and Ares cupped his face in his hands and laughed until he couldn't breathe.
"You argue like a madman," he wheezed, grinning, and for the first time I saw a hint of what Alexander and Flora must see in him. He wasn't mean. He wasn't even cold. That was just one of his masks, just as we all wore masks to protect ourselves depending on the situation. And I didn't know Ares like he didn't know me but I wanted to change that so badly because from that moment on I really believed that he could fit into their (OUR) clan.
"Yeah man, you should read my file Davis has. That's a rabbit hole. Um, Davis, that's our clan therapist." He pulled up one side of his upper lip questioningly, a slightly lost smile looking good on him. I waved my hands a little, struggling for words.
"Um, a therapist is a doctor who helps your psyche by talking to you."
Ares wrinkled his nose. "Doesn't sound like a powerful doctor."
"Powerful enough for us. Somehow."
"Why are you here, Nathaniel Sharif? Your only impression of me is a bad, rotten one. Why do you care about someone who wanted to hurt you, your mate, and your clan, including my mates." Although I could feel myself blushing at his reference to Lexington as my mate, I thought hard for a few seconds before licking my lips slowly and replying,
"Like you said. I don't know you. And you don't know me. I don't get what you think these ... powers or these ... beings inside me will make me do that you are afraid of. And I don't think you'd explain it to me in a way I could understand, but I want to prove to you that I'm not evil. That I don't want to hurt anyone."
He narrowed his eyes and shook his head.
"Maybe not you."
"Maybe I want to prove it to myself too," I uttered quietly and we looked at each other wordlessly for long moments.
"You are so weak, so soft and so merciful," he said, as if he was surprised. I, at least, was surprised because although I'd heard all of this before from all sorts of people in all sorts of ways, for the first time it didn't sound like something to look down on. Which was a pretty strong contrast to Ares' feigned behavior so far.
"I want to get to know you, Ares. I don't want to hate you without knowing you, I want to understand you. And - you don't want to hurt me either. In reality, I mean. You would have committed worse crimes than the previous ones to protect others even though you knew everyone would judge you. You're sitting here ready to receive any punishment and you're what? - ready to starve naked in a cold dungeon? That's pretty theatrical but also self-sacrificing. You're willingly offering yourself up to be the scapegoat. I was the scapegoat in my family for decades and it hurt more than any beating."
"But you were innocent," Ares interjected flatly.
"You- you shot that one guy who was gunning for me and Lex with your arrow. That was the real you."
"That... could have been a miss."
"A miss? From you? I'm not THAT stupid." I teased, enjoying how hard Ares tried to stifle a chuckle.
Before he wiped it off his face and looked at the wall again.
"Still, that doesn't change my betrayal and my actions. And I have hurt Tachi. Your saintly compassion and absolution change nothing."
"Oh, Tachi will still take care of you for this," was my somber assurance. "And it's not absolution," I admitted, explaining myself as he looked at me in surprise.
"To absolve someone, you have to understand the offense - right? But I don't understand it."
"I guess ... even I don't understand it," Ares muttered cryptically. "And yet I couldn't change anything. You are once again their shared host with more unbridled powers than ever before. Probably..." he laughed tiredly "- that's probably what the others meant. It was always a canon event. How can they live like that? Knowing they're so utterly devoid of control."
I stared at him from the side where he avoided my gaze. I suspected he was giving me more than I had dared hope for. And yet I didn't understand anything. But what good would fear, worry, anger do me? I just wanted to get my life together. I just wanted to shake off the ghosts of my past and be happy with those I had grown to love. Just as ... as Ares probably wanted. I took a deep breath.
"Why does everything to do with magic have to be so complicated?"
"I don't know. It's magic ... the beings who wield it. They are so far ahead of us mortals. I can't even say... who I'm talking to right now. It could be a trick of those inside you."
He tilted his head back and something cracked in his neck.
I cleared my throat, awkwardly affected, and again forced myself not only to remain calm but also to stop probing. I couldn't allow the thought that there might be a grain of truth in it. Ares wasn't deliberately fucking with my head. He was basically quite noble (apart from the child-beating and attempted assault with the added option of murder) - he wasn't a cunning genius. Just a guy who thought what he was doing was necessary.
I put a hand on my chest.
"I feel them in me. But not as hostile. What if they're not evil? What if they want what all beings want - to simply exist in peace."
Ares grunted kind of dismissively. Yeah, I was probably naive and ridiculously trusting. Both towards Ares and towards the beings. But damn it, somewhere I had to start becoming the person I wanted to be. And I didn't want to be someone who hid behind their first fearful impulses. Maybe I would have to pay a terrible price for that. But what if I wasn't creating an enemy right now, but an ally? A friend? A clan brother? "And I can't say how much power they have over me in any given situation. But so far ... there has never been a situation in which I felt I was completely out of control. And I understand quite a lot about loss of control and fear."
"That's the thing," he replied wearily.
"Let's drop the subject for now. The night will be over soon and I want you to eat something before then."
"I already told you, I don't deserve this."
"Whether you deserve it at the moment is not the question. Whether you meet love and kindness with love and kindness in the future is what's important. Then the others will see what you can really be like and that you can be a clan member. Don't write them off because you think they'll write you off. I can't speak for Lexington, or for the clan. Or for your mates because they are still your mates. But I forgive you, and if it takes weeks or months to get you out of this dungeon with awkward, uncomfortable gestures and you end up leaving the cell just to get away from me, that's okay too."
"That - you can't - I have ... You are ... A stronger person than I previously thought," he admitted quietly but smiling embarrassed.
"I've been getting told that so often lately that at some moments I actually believe it myself," I whispered back lightly and Ares chuckled softly at my wink at the end of the sentence.
Then both our heads jerked up as Broadway came into the dungeon, carrying a tray with a dozen glasses on it. Behind him, Brooklyn with a huge platter of sandwiches with all kinds of toppings on them. Then Goliath with plates, Angela with the pitcher of lemonade where Tachi carried the one with water. Nash brought a basket with ketchup, mayo and a bunch of other things, Heather had her arms full of cutlery, which she prevented from falling with her wings. Lastly, Alex and Flora with arms full of blankets and cushions.
"What?" Ares began, his head turned and his eyes wide, where I was already grinning broadly and thought my heart would burst with affection for these wonderful beings - of which I was now a permanent member.
"Is there enough room for us?" Brooklyn asked as he opened the cell door.
"What- what are you doing?" the archer asked and got a pair of sweatpants slapped against his head by Tachi. Awkwardly - perhaps because he suddenly felt uncomfortable in front of the whole clan and their children - he slipped into them. When Katana and other clan members saw how Ares had been beaten up, they stopped briefly.
"Tachiiiii!" Brooklyn groaned, pointing at Ares as if he were a wall on which the child had drawn with permanent markers.
"What? He started it!" she huffed as Ares and I crawled back so Alex and Flora could lay out the blankets.
"I did. Sort of," Ares said, still with that droll perplexed face. "What's happening here?"
"Dungeon picnic!" Heather shrieked excitedly and all the cutlery fell from her claws and wings and clattered loudly to the floor, making all the gargoyles wince.
I started laughing and pulled Lexington (who had probably just been assigned to handle the napkins after his near-death experience) into my lap as everyone settled down.
Ares looked from Brooklyn to his mates, who sat down to his left and right. They smiled but still seemed a little ... tense.
"I - this - I wanted to atone for my sins. To face my punishment with dignity," the orange gargoyle stuttered.
"Nate decided that was enough punishment. He saved some lives tonight so he has enough cookie points for that," Brooklyn stated as he grabbed a sandwich.
Ares took a deep breath, his face a mask of doubt. As if this was a dream he could wake up from at any moment. It wasn't until Flora grabbed his hand that he looked up, seeming SO young.
"We love you. We love you, do you hear me? But if you act on your own authority again without discussing it with the clan and with us, I will lock you in tree resin for a thousand years, got it?" Flora warned, pulling him by the pointy ear so that he chirped. Alex touched him on the shoulder.
"I love you. This doesn't change that. We ... Flora and I ... just needed a push from Nate."
I saw Ares trying to blink away the tears that wanted to come and he just couldn't find the words. It was strange to see everyone here together now. Together because I had wanted it that way, because I had won others over. I had rarely seen myself as the master of my own destiny. My previous suicide attempts had been something like that and I was glad that I had always messed up these acts of self-determination. And now? Now I had even influenced (positively influenced) the fate of others. That was crazy. But ... sometimes crazy was good.
"Good job, Nathaniel," Goliath whispered beside me and I swallowed my tears of happiness.
.
.
Ares went into the bathroom adjoining Alexander's room, his heart pounding violently, as he had been instructed. He turned on the water via the golden taps in the shower, which was so large that he could even spread out first one wing and then the other - warm, not cold or hot - as he had been instructed. He sighed as he stepped under the stream, unable to deny that his body was grateful for the cleansing and warmth after that night. His stomach was full. He had been sitting among the clan, who seemed to have largely decided not to forget his deeds, but to move on. He was even allowed to cleanse himself. But WHY? He didn't deserve any of it. On the contrary. He didn't believe that Sharif ("Nathaniel. Call me Nathaniel. Or Nate, that's okay too.") had worked magic to make the clan act so contrary to all common sense - he didn't have that control, and probably the magic he could harness was too raw for pure mind control. Even his mates had seemed content, if more silent and thoughtful, during the strange meal in the dungeon.
Ares grinned at the memory of how Tachi- strangely talkative and strangely expressive- had described her battle with him in the most gruesome graphic images, and in the end everyone had been equally horrified and amused. Ares had only been able to sit there, hungry but eating tentatively, listening, appreciating the presence of kin but with this intangible lump of insecurity inside him. He had smiled tensely when Nashville had patted him roughly on the shoulder - advising him how to thrash Tachi better next time. He had nodded forlornly as Goliath had told him gently about Demona and Coldstone - clear lessons he would take to heart as negative and positive examples of betrayal and redemption. And he had smiled tensely as he had endured young Heather poking his wounds over and over again.
WHEN would his real punishment come? Even if the others wanted to carry on as before - how could HE? Without punishment. For betrayal AND failing to save his mates, their clan and this city if not the world? Ares rested his brow against the now warm tiles and hoped his undignified whimpering would be swallowed up by the rushing water like his tears. He had so spectacularly failed. Not even his self-imposed captivity had been granted to him. And he couldn't even be angry with the newly gargoylefied Nathaniel because he now truly believed that the part of Nathaniel Sharif that was so deliciously weak and mortal really wanted to be good and loving. Probably ... Nathaniel would end up as much a victim as everyone else. Only not with the mercy of being allowed to die. A pawn in the game of gods. Should Ares feel appeased by that?
Once again Ares took a deep breath, his ribs, his stomach, his head - everything ached from physical and mental suffering. He sniffled again, then turned off the water, stepped out of the shower and began to dry himself. He couldn't allow himself to sink into shame and fear. Maybe- maybe the punishment was coming now? He didn't know why Alexander and Flora wanted him to be clean for this - it seemed illogical and wasteful. But he would obey. They were Fey - he was just the mortal traitor. Yes, surely they had only put on a civil, gracious front to the other mortals so as not to devalue Nathaniel's mercy. Or... had it been prearranged? Were Alex and Flora already siding with the party they thought would win? So that they could later negotiate absolution for their Gargoyles and humans, who clearly would want to fight the evil in Sharif? Ares shook his head. He loved Alexander and Flora so much - no matter what their plots looked like, he would love them to his last breath. It would just be so much easier to be their puppet if he knew what was being played.
The archer examined himself again in the full-length mirror in the room, towel in one hand. She had done so much damage. Oh, what a nefarious fighter the rookling was - how he would have loved to see her growing, thriving like the eggs in the rookery and Heather. How proud he would have been to contribute just a little to paving the way for the younger generation, to see them defeat their enemies, to see one of them become the next Rhydderch. How enchanted he would have been to someday hold a being in his arms that would inherit Alexander's eyes and Flora's sweetness. But he had bet everything on red and lost. Even if the war ended in Flora and Alexander's favor, he had thrown away that privilege. Ares looked at his battered body, green and blue where it wasn't orange. Never again would he feel Alexander or Flora inside him - never again would he be inside either of them. And that was absolutely fair. But still, he was so full of regret and longing. He pensively placed a hand on his lower abdomen, which ached and was almost black because Tachi had dropped the fire extinguisher on him and from the odd kick. Dreams - insane and brazen. Flora stuck her head through the door and saw him standing there, just looking at him without saying anything. She usually liked to talk. Her silence hurt.
"I'm coming," he said and lowered his hand again, put down the towel and stepped through the door into Alexander's bedroom. Where Alexander amusingly had just finished making up his bed. The billionaire scion and fey prince was making his own bed. Of course, it was too early for staff to be in the castle and the stench of fast-burning rubber was so much better without the old sheets - but he could have ordered Ares to do it. Ares had taken pride in being among those in the Avalon clan who had been allowed to handle the princess's bedding. He could make a bed without tearing it with his claws. To make arrows and good bows you needed a certain amount of dexterity. Not that you will ever make arrows again, his conscience reminded him. Not that Alexander would want someone like you touching his bedding anyway. Ares stopped in the middle of the room and bit his lip.
He denied himself the warmth his closed wings could have given him and pushed back the urge to wrap his arms around himself. Naked, standing here in all his pathetic mortality, he felt more appropriate. Nathaniel was probably right. He was a bit theatrical. Under his masks.
Ares didn't raise his eyes as Alexander walked up to him and stopped in front of him. His love was wearing soft slippers and high-quality silk pyjamas. Alexander had only just recovered from having the demon trapped inside him and now he had to deal with HIM. One big nuisance. Alexander should never have shown him favor. Ares felt Flora at his back and lowered his ears in anticipation of a bombshell he deserved as much as he needed.
"Give me your hands," Alexander ordered, and Ares obeyed. His heart fluttered as Alexander's hands clasped his.
"You are freezing. I told you to take a warm shower."
"Yes. I did," Ares replied, and damn it, his voice sounded petulant at the unjustified accusation of not following orders properly. He didn't mean to sound like that!
Unsure, although he feared what he would find, Ares raised his eyes.
Alexander looked thoughtful. As if he was assessing Ares' worth. No doubt what his judgment would be.
Alexander, unaffected by Ares' nudity (as if they hadn't already seen everything of him) let go of him again, walked agonizingly slowly around Ares. He scrutinized every part of his body with that neutral face, exploring, searching, evaluating. At that moment, you could see very clearly that he was Titania's grandson. Not because he had something royal about him - because that was always part of his charisma. But because he could be inscrutable. He circled Ares again, his hand casually stroking Ares' wing, and although it wasn't an erogenous zone and Ares wasn't aroused at all, he shuddered under this touch, which could be the last from his beloved husband.
"Apparently, Ares, I misjudged you."
"Yes, you did. You both did."
"Yes, I - we thought if we told you that you were our equal and should have trust, that would be enough."
"But obviously it's not," Flora finished Alexander's train of thought. Ares lowered his eyes again. But both Flora and Ares were now standing in front of him again and the nature nymph gently pushed his chin up. She didn't have to be gentle. She could unleash forces that could have broken his neck a hundred times over. Instead, she was gentle in lifting his gaze again. Her gaze was so serious, almost pained. He had hurt her with his actions, hurt his prankish adorable little nymph.
"You never thought we were serious, did you? You always thought you were a fling. Because Fey don't usually take things like partnerships seriously. The countless sub-beings that inhabit the earth are proof of that. In your experience, Fey play with mortals and then throw them away when their interest has cooled."
"That would be more than understandable," Ares said bitterly, pressing his claws into the flesh of his own palms.
"Why?" Flora inquired.
"Because mortals don't live long. Because they are ... like mayflies to Fey. And they have no powers and only pitiful abilities. The Fey are right not to expect anything from them except temporary amusement. We are expendable."
"Was that the point? Did you want to prove your worth in our hours of weakness by acting on your own and solving a problem you didn't know would become one?"
"He WILL become a problem!"
"Not Nathaniel."
" Aye, not him. But the ones inside him. I didn't want to kill him. I was told that scratching him with the needle would have been enough."
"But in the hustle and bustle, you could have pierced him fatally more easily than just scratching him. You were careless and reckless Ares."
"Yes, I was," Ares admitted, unable to stop his voice from breaking. He had to take a breath before he could speak any further. Just being allowed to speak was more than he deserved. "Just because Nathaniel forgives me doesn't mean you have to accept it. You ... me. Any punishment you deem just, I will gladly accept."
Alexander and Flora looked at each other and for the first time there was that spark. That little flame of tricksterism that dwelled in both of them and gave others reason to be utterly alarmed. Ares instead raised his head, trying to hold on to his last bit of dignity.
"Oh Ares. Secretly so vulnerable," Alexander whispered, shaking his head as he pinned him with his gaze again.
"So anxious," Flora added, stroking his cheek.
"So self-sacrificing," Alex concluded with a tiny smile. Ares frowned.
Something that made both beings smile at him. And this smile was not wicked, not malicious. It was loving!
"Please," Ares pleaded on the verge of tears. This madness couldn't go on, could it? He hadn't been worthy of their love before and even less so after this night, after his betrayal.
"You want punishment because you think it will make you feel better," Alexander said, raising his hands in a silent request for Ares to put his own back in them. "But a frightened person doesn't need a beating or magical discipline, they need something to ease their fears. They need trust. Why don't you trust us that everything will turn out all right somehow?"
"I'm sorry," he whispered in defeat, feeling a hot tear run down his cheek. Flora wiped it away with her lips.
"No, no, my love. Trust in the face of such a threat does not come easily. You have acted rashly but you are no less in our eyes. We see your actions more as our failure."
Ares flinched away but Alexander's hands held him in place. "What? No! You have done nothing wrong! You are perfect."
Alexander shook his head. "And that's where you're wrong. NOBODY is perfect. And inside you know that too. We wouldn't have chosen you as our third if we only wanted a sycophant who worshipped us. We need you just the way you are. We need our stubborn, proud warrior. We need you."
"No," he sniffled, unable to comprehend why such sweet words were bestowed upon him. Maybe ... the last blow with the fire extinguisher had killed him or sent him into a coma - because this couldn't be real. Flora had pushed herself between Ares and Alex's arms and wrapped her own around his middle.
"We love you so much," she assured him, "we are yours as much as you are ours. You are not an exotic accessory - you are our center. Without you, EVERYTHING would fall apart. But how can we convince you that you are indispensable to us?"
"How?" whispered Alexander and Ares suspected that they both already knew.
"I don't know. Please, I-"
"Maybe words just aren't enough," Flora interrupted him and Alex picked up the ball.
"Words could never be enough."
"Some people are like that. They act cool and aloof, but only because they're afraid of being pushed away."
"Afraid that those around them will realize more and more that they're not good enough and never will be."
"Even if this fear is completely baseless."
"We'll stop just telling you," Alexander emphasized. "We're going to prove it to you."
"I deserve punishment, not reward. Please." Alexander rested his chin on Flora's head. His eyes were SO unnaturally green.
"Punishment or reward - I guess it's often in the eye of the beholder. "
Flora stroked his forearms comfortingly, half of the spikes had broken off. "But we're not blind. We think there is a way to reassure you of your place in our triad and in the clan."
"To put your fears to rest," Alexander confirmed.
"I don't deserve your mercy."
"You deserve all the love in the world. The clan's, ours, our children's."
Ares gasped, a shrill unmasking sound on the verge of madness.
"I would never dare-"
"You deserve to have your innermost desires fulfilled. Your deepest dreams that you think no one would ever understand. I see the look in your eyes when Flora and I kiss. Or when we are physically connected."
The nymph placed her hand on his lower abdomen, which tightened painfully under the touch on the sore flesh. "Like you put your hand on your belly while Alexander is deeply buried inside you. You are SO divine doing it. Or just now in front of the mirror? How you dream yourself away in these moments into something you think is unattainable and sinful."
"WE decide what is sinful between us," Alexander said firmly.
"I can't - I-I just love watching you."
"But that's not all, is it?"
"Be honest, Prickly."
"...No ... It's not all," he admitted reluctantly, but it felt good to be honest about it for the first time. As if one of the weights was rolling off his unsettled soul.
"It's not just bliss to be there, warmth because you love us both in your eyes. But also pain, longing, regret not -"
"-Don't! Please. Me- Nature is the way it is. I like being the way I am, I love every touch you gift me. I will adore your children and be happy doing so. I can't ask for more."
"But that's just it," Flora commented stubbornly.
"It shouldn't be gifts. Nothing you have to be grateful for. We are all different but equal. And between the three of us ... no wish, no desire is unnatural."
He shook his head in confusion. Were they just offering him what he was thinking? "It would be ... just ridiculous."
"No. It wouldn't ..."
"It would be perfect. The three of us."
"Alex has the power. And I'm pure nature."
"But we'll leave it up to you."
"We would never change you like this if you didn't want it. You're not our toy."
"So, what do you want, Prickly?"
"You have Clan if you want it."
"You have our absolute love if you want it."
"Will you go that way with us, too?" Flora tempted, her lips hovering over his- both a threat and an enticement.
"Yes," he whispered without another thought, almost overwhelmed by his emotions. "Please. Please, I want it. So much-" She planted her lips on his and even though she was so much smaller than him, he sank into her gentle kiss. Her tongue was carnal and yet not and her saliva was familiar sweet, but there was so much more. He felt his own rapid heartbeat on her lips and saw Alexander's magical green eyes in the periphery of his vision, heard him speak words that were lost to him and which, at the same time as healing his body, sent heat coursing through him where he had been so cold before. This heat gathered in his abdomen so that he thought he would burn inside. It hurt, something tore in the flesh inside him that shouldn't have been there and Ares groaned but Alexander's hands held him on his feet and Flora was glued to his mouth, tasting and smelling so sweet that it clouded his senses and he swallowed something that came from inside her because he couldn't help it. Then heat, pain and strength gave way. But before Ares could sink to the ground, Alexander and Flora had grabbed him.
"Are you okay, Prickly?" Alexander asked lovingly. "It hurt for sure."
Ares sobbed shakily in his arms and Flora kissed his temple comfortingly.
"How could you do this with the threat hanging over us?" Ares asked breathlessly.
"Don't be afraid. Have faith," Flora whispered as Alexander kissed him. The fear of the future that had previously been brewing ebbed away with irritating speed, leaving only calm and equanimity.
"Better?" asked Alexander. Ares looked at him with wide eyes, looked at Flora who smiled and stroked his hair. Then he nodded and rested his head on Alexander's chest.
"Now come to bed," murmured Alexander and Flora at the same time in one voice. If this wasn't real, hell or heaven- he never wanted to wake up again.
Thanks for reading Q.T.
