Soul Of A Woman (The Dark Souls) (21 page)

Epilogue

Willow jumped up from his arms, already missing their warmth. She bent over to pick up the basket of berries he had helped her to pick, already missing him. They had known each other for such a short time, but she already recognized him as her mate. Her family thought she was too young and frail, so she had been too frightened of their reaction to let them meet the stranger.

She saw the love in his eyes, heard the promises he made to her. She wanted to be with him forever, however he treated her as a friend, telling her he wanted to wait until she was older.

Her mother and father had created her when they were younger than she was now, but he wouldn’t listen to her. He said they had to wait until the time was right. He had made her so many promises.

She heard the horn. Dropping her basket, she turned to run back to her village.

“Willow, wait.”

“Warrior, I must go. Something is wrong.” She tried to jerk her wrist away.

“Tell me what I told you, and I will let you go!”

Willow turned back to her warrior, seeing the anguish in his eyes. Something deep inside of her was telling her it was important, the desperation in his voice had her wanting to please him.

She quit struggling to get away. “I must always remember your love for me. I will never be alone. You will be by my side through eternity. You will always see me.”

“Don’t forget, Willow. It’s important,” he persisted.

“I won’t. I have to go, Warrior,” she pleaded.

With her promise, his hand reluctantly let her go.

She ran away toward her village as fast as her crippled leg let her, her thoughts filled with terror when she heard the screams…

*  *  *

The warrior watched from the mountain as the village was massacred. His hands clenched at his side, forcing himself to stay until the end, nothing remaining but the silence.

“Who are you?”

Warrior turned to see Fate standing behind him. She was younger, without the lines of worry and tension lining her face the centuries had brought.

“Fate,” Warrior’s voice was grave. “I know why you’re here.” He handed her a slip of paper. “That’s a spell you have to teach your second child. Her life will depend on it.”

Her hand reached out to take the paper, opening it.

“Joro signed this.”

“Yes.” She raised a brow. “It’s a Native American protection spell. You of all people should know I can’t say more.”

Fate looked at him speculatively. “Very well. I will do as you ask.”

“Thank you.” And with that, he was gone the next second.

Fate’s mind filled with visions, some clear, many unclear because in some way, the warrior was entangled within her life. He had made a difficult choice to save the life of the woman he loved, however, that much she could see.

She looked down at the village. It would not be the last time a large number of people would be killed on the same spot.

Fate transported herself to the village. She had to direct the few survivors to bury the bodies. Their spirits would one day provide protection for others who believed the end was near. As Fate looked inside one hut, the young girl’s torture was apparent. Her heart ached.

The girl’s bravery needed to be rewarded—she deserved a new beginning…

As an added bonus, please enjoy this short novella by Jamie Begley

The Dark Souls: The Prequel

Chapter 1

“Mother’s anger is the talk of the party.” Destiny glanced over her sister’s shoulder. The night sky was obscured by black, ominous clouds while flashes of lightning highlighted the vicious rain pelting downwards. A particularly loud burst of thunder had both women wincing.

“Let them gossip.” Fate shrugged.
“Valentine and I are in agreement; our marriage has come to an end. I am sorry Mother is upset, but our decision is final.”

A loud burst of thunder sounded above their heads
just as lightning struck mere inches from their feet. The guests behind them quieted as they sought the one who had dared to irritate Mother enough to interrupt the occasion. The long anticipated homecoming was filled with those who knew of Fate and Valentine’s separation. Mother had invited all the immortals from the different realms to celebrate the return of Joro. The celebration provided the opportunity to avidly gossip about the banished Goddess with the added bonus of witnessing her anger against Fate.

Joro had been banished to
lead a human lifetime on Earth without the power of an immortal. It was the harshest punishment bestowed by Mother. Her return home, while joyous, was also part of the punishment. She had been forced to leave behind the human child she had given life. A child that she would never be allowed to touch—a fitting choice of justice in repayment for the life she had taken.

The beautiful
Goddess sat quietly by Mother’s side at the huge table laid out with a vast feast. Her beautiful, sad eyes stirred Fate’s unwilling sympathy.

“Did you speak the words in Mother’s hearing?” Destiny questioned
, seeing the glare that Mother was aiming at Fate.

“Yes, I relinquished my marriage rights. Valentine is no longer my husband.” Fate’s eyes searched and found Valentine sitting at the laden table
, speaking privately with Chronos. He was receiving his fair share of recriminating looks from Mother.

Fate and Valentine had spent centuries together
, raising and training their three daughters to use the powers gifted by Mother. They had shared a love that, while strong, lacked the passion to last an eternity. Valentine, the ultimate matchmaker, had failed in his own marriage.

As her eyes turned from Valentine
, they were caught and held by Odin. Fate struggled to move her gaze while Odin’s eyes refused to relinquish their mesmerizing grasp. Fate’s breathing accelerated and her breasts tightened beneath the thin wisp of a gown she wore. Her stomach clenched and her hands trembled, splashing the drink she was clasping onto Destiny’s gown. She ached for him, the desire that tore at her insides was perpetually there. His gaze sharpened to silver as he acknowledged the attraction she felt for him. Being blind in one eye didn’t detract from the perfect physical specimen that was Odin.

His temper and
exploits with women were legendary. The joke among the Gods was, who was the better lover, Zeus or Odin? They each had their own groupie following comprised of the Goddesses and Immortals. Women vied for Odin’s attention and the chance to literally touch the stars; a claim many of them had made after he had taken them to his bed. Any and all were granted entry to Zeus’s bed, his escapades keeping Mother busy soothing many a husband’s fury. The cat fights among the women had become vicious over the centuries. The last altercation had been so bad that Mother had stepped in and warned them of their behavior. Venus had been forced to apologize to Aphrodite for making her glorious hair fall out.

Odin was well aware of the contempt she held for him. Every action he made
, Fate had known he would take before even he had. She had seen all the women he had bedded and would bed in the future. Monogamy was not one of the aspects she saw in his future.

His raw sensual appeal was something she had fought against from the beginning of time. The sexual awareness in Odin’s gaze was threatening in itself; it made a woman feel helpless and dominated. Neither emotion appealed to Fate.

Her lips curled in disgust at the women surrounding him. They were always by his side as were his two wolves and falcons.

“I see Odin has his menagerie with him tonight.” Destiny brushed the droplets of wine
still clinging to her gown away with a wave of her hand. “It gets bigger by the century.”

“It rivals his ego in size.” Fate’s attention returned to her sister
as she forced her body to turn. Giving Odin her back took extreme willpower, and her body continued to feel the weight of his stare. No sooner had she turned from him than she flinched when a familiar, hard body brushed against her back.

“I did not think you would be here tonight.” Valentine’s voice had a soothing quality. They had not spoken since the night of his betrayal. She had cast him out of her castle and refused to see or speak with him. Yet
, sensing her agitation with Odin, he had wanted to calm her nerves and thus had risked her anger by approaching her.

Fate had chosen Valentine because of his high moral code, trusting that he would never betray her through the centuries they would share. Yet even he had broken his vows
, unable to withstand the test of time and temptation. The night he had strayed was unforgettable to Fate. She had never doubted his fidelity or love until the moment she had seen him entwined with a woman she had called a friend. It had destroyed more than the vows they had given each other on their wedding day.

“I would always welcome Joro home. Mother’s anger will abate in time when she accepts that our marriage ending was a mutual agreement.”

“Was it?” Valentine contradicted her.

“Yes, you decided our marriage was over the moment you touched another.” They would always be friend
s—centuries of marriage and children would forever bind them together. However, the moment Valentine had allowed his mistress to use her power to shield their affair had been the true end of their marriage.

“I will say my goodbye; my presence here is taking away from Joro’s homecoming.”
Fate had to raise her voice to be heard over the continuous bursts of thunder. “Perhaps it will calm Mother’s anger.”

“Be well, sister. May the
Gods grant you peaceful slumber.” Destiny’s words were accompanied with a sympathetic look that told Fate she understood how difficult it had been for her to be there.

*
*  *

It wasn’t the first time she had dreamed of him. In her silken bed
, Fate tossed, trying to drag herself from the dream, fighting her desires even in slumber. However, the dream dragged her deeper within its grasp, not allowing her an escape.

As t
he dream unfolded, she was naked, lying across Odin’s lap as he sat upon his throne. He wore leather pants, which felt soft beneath her bare thighs. Wiggling, she sought to slide off his lap, but a large hand placed on her belly held her pinned in place.

“Stay still
,” Odin ordered, a seductive smile curled on his sinuous lips.

Frantically
, Fate looked around. The great hall was empty save for a few servants cleaning up the remains of the feast. They paid their master no mind; they were used to his play. Fate struggled harder, yet each movement only rubbed her bare bottom against the hard sinew of his thighs. The feel of the leather inflamed desires that had been suppressed for centuries, forcing her to tighten her thighs together in an agony of yearning. Odin’s hand smoothed over her soft belly, feeling the muscles clench in need.

His hard body was all muscle and sinew honed over centuries of bloody battles. He
exuded violence, control, and dominance. He was a warrior, feared by those he had led and fought.

His hand lifted to his side,
and Fate saw him picking up a chalice of wine. She frowned. She had seen that chalice before; memory fought the web of sleep trying to aide in her escape.

Awareness beckoned but was snatched away by Odin tipping the distinctive chalice made of Gold
. The stem was of a stallion raised on its hind legs. Its front hoofs placed around the cup holding the wine. Again awareness tried to surface when Odin’s hand slid underneath her dark hair, grasping a handful in his fist. He raised her until her lips touched the lip of the chalice. The sweet smell of the wine beckoned and Fate opened her mouth to let the wine slip into the warm recess of her mouth.

“Good girl.” Odin gave his approval at her acquiescence.

Fate’s fighting spirit rose, though it was doused as Odin tipped the chalice until a red drop of the wine splashed on her nipple. The firm hand in her hair tightened, pulling until her back arched, lifting her dampened breast to his waiting mouth. Odin licked the droplet of wine away from the nipple before taking it whole in his mouth, sucking strongly at the rosy peak.

Whimpers escaped from Fate’s lips. She had never made noises when she had sex with Valentine
, however Odin brought out the wildness repressed in her soul. When Fate put a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle the sound of pleasure, Odin’s hand reached up and caught the hand, dragging it down to rest against his leather clad cock.

“Even in your dreams you try to hide your hunger for me.” His harsh voice made her shiver in awe of his power
—even relaxed and playing with her didn’t take away the dangerous aura that surrounded him.

Fate could no longer qui
et her whimpers, her body on fire. Frantically, her fingers unlaced his tight pants before sliding her hand inside and pulling his massive cock from the tight confines of the leather. Odin’s women had not exaggerated his size, the thickness gave Fate pause, though. Valentine was no slouch, but Odin was a masterpiece. Stroking the silken flesh, Fate trembled.

Odin poured another splash of wine
, breaking her admiration of his cock. The wine landed on the other breast where he laved the rosy nipple until no trace of the heady liquid remained.

Odin’s arms
then lifted her into the air, his strength easily shifting her weight as he rose with her in his arms. Turning, he placed Fate on the golden throne, and once there, she sat stunned, unable to rise. It felt as if she was still enfolded within his power, at his mercy.

Trapped in the dream
, she felt helpless to fight Odin’s desire. It frightened her; fierce control of her life and emotions was how she survived the demands of her job.

When
Odin lowered himself until he kneeled between her thighs, Fate’s face turned bright red at her splayed legs. Her breasts glistened in the flickering candlelight. Never had she felt so exposed.

Fate gasped as he placed one leg over the arm of the throne then the other
, spreading her even wider. She flinched when Odin once again took the cup in his hand, tilting it until the liquid slowly poured between her breasts, pooling in her belly button before moving downward where droplets shimmered on her bare pussy.

Odin
drank of the wine before leaning down, taking her lips in a kiss. Parting her mouth, Fate allowed the warm liquid to spill into her mouth, greedily drinking from his lips. Odin’s tongue lazily explored her mouth before pulling free. Then he explored the graceful curve of her neck.

Goose
bumps raised in response to the sensations his every movement produced. His tongue found the wine he had spilled and traced the silken path, ignoring her throbbing breasts. He continued to follow the wine until he reached her navel where the liquid had pooled. He drank from her, savoring every taste and involuntary response she tried to hide.

Odin nuzzled further down until his mouth reached her glistening cunt. His tongue sought her hidden center and began stroking the sensitive flesh
. He then pulled her forward on the throne, placed his hands on her ass and tilted her upwards, opening her further to his exploration. Odin’s tongue slid into the clenching sheath, tasting the heady wine and the essence of the woman determined to deny their attraction while Fate grabbed the arms of the throne with clenched fingers, desperately trying to regain her control.

Odin allowed no
release. Each time she could have reached her peak, he slowed, leaving her on the edge and causing her to become increasingly frustrated. She tried to move yet was held still by his strong grip on her hips. It went against everything she was, but he gained her supplication—her desire held her powerless. Odin was the master in his bed, and those who decided to share it gloried in the experience. Still, Fate was her own mistress and giving him control went against every instinct she possessed.

“Please, I cannot bear it
. Please.” Her breasts trembled as she tried to catch the breath he was denying her.

“What do you want?”

“I want to come. Why are you denying me?” She whimpered in frustration.

“Say my name
,” Odin ordered.

Fate felt a trap. Deep in her dream
, she sensed Odin was trying to trick her somehow. As reason began to slip through the mist of sleep, Fate shook her head, denying him.