Page 20 of Up from the Earth (Equinox Seasons Duet #1)

Nineteen

Finding Comfort Is The Magic Of Resilience In Action.

N eedle pricks of light slowly bled into existence. I blinked, tracking my surroundings, and quickly realized that we were back in the castle. I sensed weight settled in my lap, and I snapped my attention downward to see one of Cerberus’s heads there, the other two lying just to the side of my legs. The ache in my chest doubled down, and I gripped at the fur on his neck, feeling warmth slowly suffuse my legs.

He was bleeding.

“Do something!” I screamed, not even looking up at The King, who I knew stood nearby.

Shuffling sounds whooshed closer to me as they moved closer, the sounds of Cerberus’s whimpering cutting into my heart. Hands pushed into my field of vision as I frantically searched my son’s face for any sign of consciousness. It could tell it was The King, but the fingers and arms were thin, still tipped in black but gentle and smooth.

Looking up, I found The Queen before me, tears fogging my sight.

She held her hands over Cerberus, and a blooming warmth rippled through the air. I could sense the mending power of her magic, and my entire being sat on the edge of a vast cliff, waiting to see if it would work.

“I need you, too.” I blinked, shaking my head as I stared at The Queen; my brow furrowed so much it began to give me a headache. “The gifts you possess, lend them to the working.”

Recalling the mushroom—how I’d taken it forward in time—I gripped onto Cerberus’s fur, using that ability to turn the clock the other way. I knew I couldn’t bring back what had perished, but my son lived. Together with The Queen’s magic, we had a chance.

My palms hummed with energy as I pushed the gift of nature into them. I focused on how Cerberus’s neck and side had looked before the attack, the natural state they usually existed in. I concentrated on it with everything I had, sweat breaking out over my brow as the magic pulled energy from my body and soul.

“It’s working. Keep going.”

I stole just a moment to glance at The Queen, noting how she, too, looked to be pouring herself into the magic. The warmth from our combined magic was greater than that coming from the wound pressed to my thighs. It was working.

But it needed more.

Sucking in the air, I closed my eyes, giving over to the power surging through me. I felt that connection to the core of the earth, to the core of my being. I remembered giving birth to Cerberus and seeing him grow from an infant to a small child to my proud wolf son. Tears streamed down my face, hot trails that singed my cheeks. I couldn’t lose him. I wouldn’t—not to that fucking monstrous priest.

Rage funneled in behind the fear and sorrow, bolstering me. It suffused my magic, creating this demand for anything the earth would give me to save my son. It hated the priest as much as I did. He was an abomination that went against everything in nature, against the cycle. His hatred infected the wounds that sliced through Cerberus’s flesh, searching to eat away at him, leaving him a deteriorated mess that…

Oh gods, it seeks to take him as a vessel of the priest's powers—over my dead body.

Grabbing The Queen’s hand, I squeezed, pressing our united magic into Cerberus’s soul. I could see the black, tar-like stain of sticky malice clinging to his spirit. In that place between worlds, the one that existed only in our minds, The Queen and I battled the corruption, her coalescing the malignance into one tight ball rather than the splattering infection it wanted to be and me lighting it up with the cleansing essence of spring, that time of renewal.

Time dragged on, skin over a bed of nails, but at last—exhausted and drained of power—The Queen and I pulled free of that space to find Cerberus unconscious but breathing steadily in my lap.

“It is done. He will be alright.” She held my cheek, a soft grin lifting the corner of her mouth. “He is alright.”

I smiled as I looked up at The Queen, my eyelids drooping. “That…That monster did more than just cut him. That… plague within him was going to use Cerberus’s body as a vessel for the corruption.”

She nodded. “It was. I…I have seen nothing like that before. The way we were thrown back…That creature shouldn’t have the power he does. Though, there is little point in denying the fact that he does.” The Queen stroked across Cerberus’s fur, gazing down at him with a sorrowful smile. “The Priest is no longer something of the afterlife, not solely at least. He is unnatural and wrong, and whatever sickness has loomed at the edge of reality has found a home in him, making him a force to be reckoned with.”

“What can we do?” I didn’t like how small my voice sounded, how empty I felt after working so hard to save our son. “How are we supposed to stop Father Paine from wreaking more havoc when we cannot stand up to face him?”

The Queen looked up at me, lifting her other hand up to cup my cheek. “We refuel, and we fight smarter. Power doesn’t begin and end with the ability to destroy. Creating life is a magic far more ancient and timeless.”

I leaned into her hand, needing that comfort as much as I needed the physical rest. After a moment, her movement caused me to open my eyes—which I hadn’t even realized I’d closed—and I panicked when I didn’t feel or see Cerberus.

“What?! Did something—”

“Calm, little seed.” The Queen was there before me, but we weren’t in the simple black room anymore; the massive pool of blood surrounding her throne was there, and we sat on the ground before it. “He is alright. I’ve transported him to his room to rest. Cerberus—our sweet boy—will need his rest for some time, which, again, I can try to stretch as much as possible.”

The tension in my posture slowly eased, and I looked around the room, still surprised that we were back here again. The throne was as terrifying and beautiful as ever, and my Queen looked like she had when I’d first encountered her, with massive braids stretching into infinity like a spider web and only long strips of them hiding her most intimate areas from view.

“Why are we here?” The Queen pulled me up as I asked, walking backward toward the still lake of crimson that surrounded her throne. “We should be doing something about Father Paine.”

That whispering sound I’d heard before in here, the song that stirred while remaining somber, was still there, filling in the quiet of the castle as the unending wind whistled past the enormous windows. For a moment, The Queen didn’t respond; she only smiled that wicked smile at me and pulled me along as she waded into the blood.

“I—”

But as the liquid slid over my skin, it cut off my words. She’d pulled me in, the level only reaching mid-shin, and I was so shocked. I’d expected the unique bath to be frigid, as icy as the room we stood in, but it was warm, blissfully so, and I couldn’t stop the moan that bled from me as my flesh rippled with goosebumps.

Meeting her gaze again, The Queen grinned, her tiny fanged teeth still a bit unnerving to look at. Her dark eyes, a red so deep that they looked nearly black, bored into me, and I trembled under her gaze. It was so familiar to our first meeting: the way she’d tracked me like a predator in her throne room, the effortless grace she possessed, and the incredible need in my bones that nearly brought tears to my eyes.

“It’s so warm.” I sounded nearly drunk.

“It is what you need. A release of tension, a connection with your Queen within its shallow depths.” She held her hand out, the obsidian gleam of her claw-like nails catching in that eerie red light that filled this chamber. “Join me, sweet Cerridwen. Let me ease your aches with my own.”

A shiver ran through me, crawling up the entire length of my body from feet to head. I couldn’t express what I needed at present. I knew I needed something, something to strengthen me, to wash away the terror that had gripped me so roughly when Cerberus had been injured, but regardless of that fact, I knew that whatever The Queen might do to me, it would satiate all those needs.

Taking her hand, I stepped further into the pool. She walked us to the center, and while I expected it to get deeper, it remained at shin level. A strange part of me—one that still knew what it was made of—craved for the warmth it gave to cover every inch of my flesh. I wanted that warmth. I wanted to feel safe within its embrace.

“You won’t be needing this.” The Queen reached out a claw and lifted a piece of loose fabric from my dress, nearly catching my arm beneath.

In a flash, the garment was gone, and I was as nude as my Queen in the shallow bath of life’s blood. Without speaking, she guided me down to sit and then lay back, her lithe form hovering over mine as she lowered her lips to my throat. A gentle kiss dressed me from her mouth, and then The Queen nipped and caressed her way up to my lips.

The kiss was a communion with this ancient being. I could sense her in all her dark glory melting into my being—this dark mother who was there at the end of all things to usher souls into the beyond. Her kiss tasted like a promise of demise, but one welcomed and celebrated. The Queen’s cool flesh smoothed over mine, her tongue dancing over and under my own. It held that forked tip and dexterous movement just as her masculine form did.

“I can feel your need, little seed. You want warmth. Shall I paint you in it?”

The Queen’s eyes gleamed with wicked glee. My core clenched at the sight, and I wished for every exquisite part of her to touch me. I nodded, my eyes lust-lidden and glassy from the swell of everything blooming inside me. She balanced on her knees, lifting up bloody hands and dragging them down my sides, from my neck to my hips. It melted into me, making my head buzz. The heat, the slick feeling of it over my skin, was incredible. The liquid gathered between my legs as more of it dripped down my ribs. Letting go of the rational, of the anxiety-focused part of my brain, I dipped my hands in the crimson pool and mirrored The Queen’s actions, painting it down her sides.

She was solid and real beneath my hands, her curves supple and soft. My fingers brushed over the sides of her full breasts before I glided them down to her hips. They were curvaceous, her ass absolutely perfect, and as my stare raked over her stunning body, something caught my attention.

At first, I thought it was a trick of the light, the liquid coating my Queen catching just right at the center of her to create a false sight. But the longer I stared, smoothing my hands up and down her body as she did the same to me, the more I realized it wasn’t.

I couldn’t tell what I was looking at, and before I could ask or adjust to get a better look, The Queen’s lips dusted over my stained collarbone, working their way down to my breasts. I arched up, my head pressing back into the blood, coating my pale locks with its bright, deep red. Inch after inch, she swirled her tongue over my skin until she reached my nipple, winding her tongue around the pert, thick bud and squeezing.

“Ugh!”

A chuckle drifted from her like a musical score, and my nerves sang in response.

“That’s my sweet, little seed.” Her tongue lapped at my blood-coated skin, tasting it all as she teased my nipple with her fangs. “Ugh, the taste of you mingling with the blood of life. Perfection.”

She spoke into my mind, and then I felt her knee nudge between my legs, pushing them apart before rubbing against my aching seam. I ground myself down on her, taking any bit of contact to alleviate the throbbing need that pulsed in my clit with each heartbeat. Then in a slow progression that was as glorious as it was torturous, The Queen moved her kisses down my body until she reached my slit.

I cried out as her long, forked tongue slid between my folds, flicking at my clit before diving inside me and coiling against my walls. For what it lacked in width, her tongue made up for it in dexterity. The wondrous appendage twirled inside me, hitting each of the sensitive areas that drove me to the edge quickest.

“I know exactly where you need me, my love. Now,” she drove her tongue deep enough to hit my cervix before retreating just enough to find that magical spot at the top of my walls, “let me taste your sweet cum in this form.”

Pressing into that bundle of nerves, I shattered, climaxing hard as she immediately made my womb gush. My release rocked me, making me thrash about in the pool and splash the thick, sanguine fluid across us. It was an unhinged, unburdened expression of passion, and my entire being thrummed with pleasure.

And I wanted more. I wanted to feel my Queen come around my fingers. I wanted to taste her own release, feel it coat my skin as thoroughly as the blood.

As the release backed off some, I sat up on my elbows, staring down at her hungrily. “I believe it is my turn now, wonderful, sinful Queen.”

Her brow cocked upward, a smirk decorating her lips that glistened with my cum. There was a hint of mischief, something quite prevalent in my Queen’s stare, and then she stalked over the top of me, lifting my head toward her with a firm grip at the back of my neck.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I had no clue what she might mean, but as I turned my attention from her bountiful curves—slick and shining—to her pussy, my mouth dropped open.

Along the edges of her lips, dripping blood and arousal, were tiny fangs similar to those in her mouth. Intrigue and concern warred within me, but The Queen’s grip was fierce, and she just chuckled once more, pulling me toward her.

“I will not harm you.” She paused. “Much.”

With that, she pressed me to her pussy, my lips meeting the sharp points. They scratched gently against my skin, but as I dared to dip my tongue between her folds, indeed, I was not harmed—much. There was the rasp of them against the sides of my tongue, but it was this exhilarating sensation that set my nerves buzzing, the fear heightening the passion, the slight pain making the pleasure that much better.

And gods, the taste of her.

Sweet, fruit-wine and death, I could taste them in equal parts as I lapped up the arousal that bloomed from her. I flicked my tongue across her clit, mimicking the movements that had delighted me so. She rocked her hips, holding my mouth securely to her cunt as a moan echoed through the halls of the massive chamber.

Scooting up slightly, I reached for her lips with each hand, holding her wider so that I could thrust my tongue deeper into her channel. I circled it along her entrance, then probed inside, fucking her with it. Her tiny fangs teased my fingers, and I changed my hold to one hand so that I could slide my fingers inside her, worshipping her clit with sucks and flicks of my tongue.

“Little seed,” she growled, thrusting against my hand, “my sweet, naughty girl. You’ve learned quite a bit, haven’t you?”

My only response was to twist my hand, finding that bundle of nerves at her top and hooking my fingers into them. I pumped hard and purposefully, relishing the way her pussy clamped down around my fingers. I sucked fiercely on her clit, working with everything I had until I felt that rising warmth and liquid.

Leaning back, I gasped for air as I fucked her with my fingers. The Queen’s head fell back as she moaned low, and then she came for me, her cum raining over my mouth, over everything. It was perfection.

“Ugh!” The cry echoed around us, and just as I thought she might be finished, those little teeth gripped my hand and worked it deeper. “More!”

Another finger slid inside her, then my pinky, and soon enough, her fangs were driving my fist into her, filling her up. I could feel how my knuckles rubbed against that same spot inside her, how I stretched her walls to that point of blissful fullness. I knew how incredible that felt, and, fuck, to be doing it for her was magnificent.

Fluid swelled within her, another release rushing forward as those fangs bit into my wrist, creating tiny pin pricks in my skin that welled with the barest hint of blood. My mind swirled at the notion of having a cock and feeling that hold on it. As it was, my own pussy dripped with need at the feeling of pleasing her, my seductive Queen.

As the pleasure roared higher, my fist fucking her so beautifully, The Queen manifested her binding web of silky hair. This rope of it wrapped around my neck, squeezing, and another did the same to her, and then still more lifted me, spinning me around so that I hung in the air with my hand still thrusting into her as she claimed my pussy with her mouth.

“Let go, my perfect mate. Come with me.”

Time did stretch then, pulled like taffy in a small shop lit by springtime sunlight. I pumped into her as she twirled her tongue into my cunt, my air wonderfully restricted. The Queen’s fingers found my folds, probing inside one after the other until she, too, filled me up, her knuckles sweeping against my walls and making me scream.

We were a depraved mirror of each other, and I adored every second of it, dripping blood and cum, my hair hanging down until it touched the warm liquid at my Queen’s knees, pooling there and staining with the red essence of life itself.

Moving quicker—as demanded by the fangs—I thrust into her until, at once, I was pressed out by the sheer force of her orgasm. Her cum squirted over me in a chaotic storm. It went on and on, milking my own release as the feeling of her fist inside me and the claim on my throat became everything I knew, everything I wanted to know.

I shattered, stars exploding through the black of my tightly closed eyes. The Queen slipped her hand free, and I released every pent-up need I’d experienced in the whole of my life. I came. I came and came until there was nothing left but the dying echo of my cries in the throne room.

And she came with me, riding out the waves of this hedonistic journey in tandem. We were filthy, blood and cum and sweat, and it was perfect. Exhaustion smoothed over me like a weighted blanket as she set me down once more. We untangled from each other only to tangle back together.

There, we lay side by side in the warm, shallow pool until I fell asleep.