The Awakening Read online

  A Savior’s Song, Book Three – The Awakening

  An Original Erotic Romance Series

  Amileigh Babineaux D’Lecoire

  08/01/2012

  Copyright © 2012, Amileigh B D’Lecoire. All rights reserved.

  Publisher's Note

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents

  either are the product of the authors' imaginations or are used

  fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events

  or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ~ The shadows recognized her immediately, embracing her with the intimacy of a lover as they pulled her close. Tendrils of emptiness swirled about her legs and waist, helping to conceal her presence from prying eyes, should there be any. In the darkness, unseen things slithered into the murky swamp and mosquitoes buzzed angrily above the tepid waters. Crickets chirped from within the tall grasses of the muddy shore, and birds of prey screamed out as they flew overhead. It was oppressively warm and humid here, even in the dead of night. It was not her choice to be here among the marshy reeds, and she fought back the unease that nibbled at the corner of her thoughts, hating this world and suddenly missing the beauty of pale moonlight as it rained kisses down upon the roses in her gardens back home.

  She glided soundlessly among the trees, a bone-piercing chill frosting the air around her as she moved, leaving behind pockets of cold in her wake -- a stark contrast to the stifling heat that claimed the swamp. A large hooded cloak decorated with intricate symbols of silver thread kept her face hidden as it encased her within its soft-flowing folds, and she pulled the collar tight under her chin. The velvet material danced gracefully behind her delicate frame in billowing waves of emerald and black, making it appear as though she moved through water rather than across air and land. To the untrained eye she was no more than an illusion, a trick of light that gave life to shadows where none existed.

  “Be at peace, Elvanya,” a voice called upon the wind. She froze as it probed deep within her soul and gave rise to the long-forgotten sensation of warmth. The sound of it upon her ears was rich and deep, wholly masculine and distractedly familiar so that she struggled against the urge to weep from the purity of it.

  She could feel the closeness of him then as his presence surrounded her, and she grew instantly quiet. Her breath caught in her throat as unseen hands began to move with intimate knowledge along her frozen flesh, claiming her with confident authority. Strong fingers traced sensual swirling patterns along the sensitive skin of her arms, light caresses of invitation, and she felt a familiar desire begin to stir. She closed her eyes and sighed softly as one hand travelled back up to caress the smooth column of her neck, an invisible thumb running slowly along her lower lip. Her breasts began to ache, begging to be touched, and her core slowly came to life, throbbing and distracting.

  “I have long missed the taste of you,” he whispered low and hungry against her soul.

  Seeking lips pressed lightly against her skin, his breath warm and moist as it teased against the delicate curve of her ear.

  “But you know this already, do you not?” Bold hands moved possessively to rest upon her hips, demanding and firm as they pulled her close. She felt his arousal as he pressed against her, frighteningly large and aggressive, and she shivered with need. He was there and he was not, and she wanted to shout out in frustration as her body began to ache with the need to be consumed by him.

  “Show yourself,” she demanded suddenly, pulling back. “If you’ve courage enough to solicit a gratuitous caress, then surely you’ve the courage to reveal yourself to me.” Her words were harsh even though her eyes danced with mischief, and she was met with indulgent laughter as a hand moved up to softly trace the curve of her face.

  “Look within, my love, and know who it is that will possess you this night.”

  His voice was smooth as silk, his touch heated and addictive. His hands moved to cup the weight of her breasts, squeezing gently as he teased tiny pink nipples to life. He was her lover, her life, her creator and her God. She was concubine to his needs, the inspiration to his dreams and mother to his children.

  She tugged playfully away, a mock pout playing across her lips as she meant to punish him for having been away so long.

  “Do not think to escape me,” he purred in response before grabbing her and pulling her body back against his. His lips found hers, probing and hungry, forcing her own lips to part and accept his seeking tongue as it swept inside and began to caress the velvety smoothness of her mouth. Eager hands pushed back the hood of her cloak to reveal her delicate features before tangling within the silken mass of golden curls that fell about her shoulders. She was overwhelmed by her sudden invasive need of him and she wilted, all resolve draining away as she succumbed to the power of his seduction.

  “Much better,” she heard him whisper as strong arms wrapped tight about her now pliant body. The air around them began to shimmer and pulse, and there was the displaced sound of large wings unfurling and beating against the wind as she felt herself being lifted from the ground.

  Higher and higher they rose into the soothing blackness of night. She shivered in the darkness as her clothes fell away, her pale skin alive and glistening in the moonlight as he held her to him. With wanton eagerness her legs parted and wrapped around him in invitation, and a dangerous growl rumbled deep within a massive chest before he penetrated her folds with a swift, piercing thrust. As he entered her she cried out with a mixture of pleasure and pain, his engorged member stretching and tearing as he buried himself deep and began to move inside of her.

  “You’re hurting me,” she whimpered softly, feeling as if she had been drugged. Her lips were swollen and her tongue thick as a haze of guilty pleasure ensnared her. His mouth pressed against the base of her neck and he nibbled at the tender flesh as his hips continued to piston above her, filling and completing her. It was always this way with him – wild and passionate, dangerous and compelling, and always so deliciously, painfully consuming.

  “Shhhhhh,” he whispered soothingly against her skin, comforting her. The thickly veined hardness of him stroked with erotic insistence against her sheathed nub until she climaxed with such violent force that she feared she might faint. As wave after wave of pleasure both tormented and enflamed she heard his soft laughter of satisfaction. She shivered as a lucid moment of precognition washed over her, revealing a future of addictive lust that would consume and ultimately destroy her.

  As her body continued to throb and ache she felt him stiffen, and with one final thrust his deep throated cry filled the night, rumbling like thunder across the skies as his seed poured into her. His shaft swelled painfully inside of her, his orgasm causing small barbs to emerge from its tip and bite deep into her tender flesh. They were locked together and held firmly in place, nature forcing her to retain his seed and take it deep within her womb. Tears rolled down her face as he held her, his lips finding her tight nipples and latching on, sucking greedily and seemingly oblivious to her soft sobs. Yet even through the haze of pain associated with this coupling, as he moved slightly against her, she was brought once again to climax, explosive and shattering, and he moaned aloud, his husky voice mingling with her cries of pleasure as her walls convulsed around him, milking the life giving fluid from him. They were two and they were one, and she couldn’t help but cry with joy to find herself within his arms once more. ~

  ~I~

  It was late when Aramis finally made his way to the main temple, the sun already beginning to slip beneath the waves as dusk settled in. Voices mingled and caressed against the breeze as everyone gathered upon blankets and pillows all along the gentle slope of the small hill in anticipation of the night’s festivit
ies. The Dance of Serpentine would be powerful and moving, and already the air was laced with an undercurrent of excitement as the wine began to soften the edges of the day, allowing his priests and priestesses to forgo usual formalities as they lounged among one another contentedly. The aroma of the food was enticing and he allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction at the perfection of the evening.

  “My Lord,” voices murmured as he passed by, and he nodded in return, feeling their eyes on him, hearing the rushed sounds of their thoughts before he remembered to block them. This was not a night for prying when no crime had been committed. The Festival of Azurete’ was a time of coming together, of trust in one another, of life and love. Unless he sensed a threat, he had no desire to know their thoughts this night, preferring instead to allow them their privacy.

  And so he continued along, lulled into contentment after having sated his more carnal appetites for a time, and satisfied to walk among those who lived here, worked here, served here and loved one another here, without need for notice or acknowledgement. The air smelled of sea and rain, and as he breathed deep he allowed his mind to clear itself of all distraction, that he might call the perfection of her face to appear before him once more. She was unlike any he had ever seen; had felt unlike any he had ever touched, and for the first time in centuries he felt a genuine rush of anticipation simply at the thought of seeing her again.

  He had not tried earlier to hide that he was anxious to meet their new arrival, and Dante had thrown him a sleepy, Cheshire-like grin as Aramis had left him and Galadria to go for a walk about to clear his thoughts. No doubt Dante was going to enjoy watching him squirm for once. His priest was really so much more than just a priest – he was a dear and cherished friend – which also meant that he enjoyed the sport of poking the bear on occasion, just to see him growl.

  But Aramis did not care; let Dante have his fun. Aramis needed to see that she was well and alive, even though his very soul told him that she was. The distance between them made no difference - he could feel the pounding of her pulse as blood rushed through her veins, could recognize the tangy sweetness of her upon the air that flowed around him. She was his, completely, and while he would do his best to ease her slowly into his world, he would not pretend with her that he wanted anything less than to have her beside him as his mate. It would be pointless because she, too, would feel it. She would know the taste of their fate and understand.

  Wouldn’t she?

  He paused for a moment, stunned by the unfamiliar feeling of uncertainty that suddenly nibbled at his ego, then continued on.

  It was not easy being him, and this equivocal thought made him laugh derisively at the absurdity of it. But in truth, being a God really was no easy thing. Certainly he was of a race that had been misunderstood and misrepresented over time. There were Gods of War and Gods of Peace, Gods of Love and Prosperity, and others like himself - Gods of Virility and Fertility. There were Goddesses born to Gods (human or Goddess, it mattered not as all power flowed from Creator through his sons), and there were Goddesses raised up from a mortal life to bond to Gods, thus giving them many of the same powers. There were realms within realms that made up the Wheel of Time, each with their own Gods and Goddesses who ruled, all of which ultimately came to answer to the Creator himself, of which there was only one.

  And as if their somewhat convoluted hierarchy and history were not bad enough, being a God came with great responsibility. Those of the mortal plane who sought to serve a God had to be nurtured and cared for like children; for it was their faith that ultimately gave strength and power to the God they served. Likewise, they had to be chastised and corrected when they used poor judgment, sometimes harshly, and always, always there were those whose bond was so close to their God they served, that they were brought to serve among the very heavens themselves. (‘heavens’ of course being a woefully lacking term used to try and define the infinite stretch of time and space that made up the fabric of existence).

  Of course, there were, unfortunately, those Gods like his brother Hippolyte, as well; Gods of darkness who embraced greed and vanity, and who delighted in fostering bitterness and discord. They seduced and deceived mortal men and women into service and led them to what many found to be their hell when the time came to cross over into the afterlife. It could be called a service of purgatory, to some degree, until such time as the Creator passed final judgment on a soul, to see if it had been redeemed. The good news was that these tended to be lesser Gods who – surprisingly – did not lust for power near so much as they lusted for the bodies and souls of the unfortunate who served their vile and dangerous addictions to flesh and blood. Still, they presented their own problems and could not be overlooked, for they took great pride in being quarrelsome and unpredictable.

  But enough of these thoughts, he chided himself with a mental shake. What mattered tonight were the celebrations, the gifts of life and love - and the bewitching smile of a woman who had reached out across an ocean of time to soothe his restless spirit. Enjoying the hum of desire that caressed him at the thought of her, he closed his eyes and began to whisper quietly, allowing the winds to envelope him and carry him to where she was. He was weary of walking, he was weary of waiting. He had waited an eternity for her, and he would not be put off another moment from having her by his side.

  ~ II ~

  The night was alive with emotion, and Thais could feel the beauty of it as it flowed through and around her. She had never experienced anything like it, the power and pull of sensual love and sacred hope that these people all had a genuine belief in the right of existence and the tolerance of being. All seemed harmonious and united here, a respect for all that the Creator had breathed into being, and above all else an almost zealous, certainly spiritual, and decidedly physical need to be close to the one they loved above all else, save the Creator himself.

  Aramis.

  She watched as all around men and women began to move towards one another, noting the subtle shift in mood as laughter began to fade into softened sighs, and strong hands began to move with slow, more intimate caresses along the delicacy of female flesh. Her eyes danced with awareness, their inquisitive depths glistening in the light of the large fire whose flames now danced and licked along the darkening edges of night from within the large pit below. She was fascinated by all that she was experiencing, and – for the first time in her life – was becoming aroused in a way that only a woman could ever really explain, feeling an odd anticipation that she did not completely understand or recognize.

  “She is very beautiful,” Dominic whispered, leaning in to speak the words softly against Vardra’s ear. She shivered at the unexpected closeness of him, swallowed hard, and then nodded.

  “She is, yes. Her spirit is bright, and I can feel so much of the Creator’s light within that I think she would seem beautiful even if covered in warts and having no teeth at all.”

  Dominic laughed and reached out to gently push back a stray curl that had escaped its braid and now teased at her nose. How was it that had he never noticed her before, he wondered, and he felt more than heard her breath catch at his touch. He had enjoyed the time they had spent together this evening, finding her to be quick witted and with an enchanting sense of humor that was odd and decidedly offbeat. She was vibrant and naïve and her child-like excitement at the world around her made her seem, in some ways, as innocent and fresh as their new guest. She was incredibly beautiful, tall and strong in the way of her ancestors before her, and he knew without her having told him that she struggled with self-doubt, thinking herself a monstrosity of feminine form because of her height and strength.

  And he had never found any one more beautiful than her at that moment.

  “I can see why it is that Aramis tasked you with being sister and guide to our new arrival,” he heard himself saying, and she looked at him, eyes wide with wonder at his comment.

  “You approve of his choice?” she asked with a tentative smile. She studied him through her lash
es, trying not to stare, but it was near impossible. He was the only other male on this island who could be said to rival their Lord in looks and sexuality. As Aramis’ top priest, he was also surrounded day and night by some of the most beautiful of priestesses, who waited always with eager hearts and bodies to serve him. So she could not understand why it was that he was looking at her in such a way this night.

  And then the music began to grow slow and rhythmic, the beating of the drums keeping time with the pulsing rhythm of life as it flowed and coursed with heated need through them all.

  That was it! Now Vardra understood. The Dance of Serpentine had begun, and the very air around began to feel warm and fluid, a heated salve of sexual tension that beckoned and enticed. Once caught within the intricate weave of need caused by the celebrations, Dominic was no different than any of them, a vessel to the desires of creation. It was not her he looked at with such need, but rather the cherished beauty of feminine form and mystique she represented. He was driven to both celebrate and consume her for the gift of life she was capable of giving.

  “What an amazing night!” Thais exclaimed as she finished the last of her wine. Dominic smiled when she spoke, reminded of her presence, but still his eyes held Vardra’s as he replied.

  “You are enjoying the celebrations?” he asked, his voice low. He was finding it hard to concentrate as the night called out to him and stirred his spirit. Across from him he saw Vardra shiver at her own desire reflected within his eyes, and he immediately felt his body grow hard with the need to carry her away from this place and get lost within her.

  “Oh yes!” Thais answered breathily, oblivious for the moment to the growing heat between her companions. “There is so much love here, so much purity of heart and thought. I don’t think I have ever felt such a perfect blend of souls.” She reached over for the cask of wine that sat to one side and Dominic was immediately pulled away from the intensity of his growing need to possess Vardra, reminded of his duties until Aramis arrived.