7 comments/ 12201 views/ 11 favorites Blood Feud Ch. 01 By: Sonotgay Disclaimer: All characters involved in sexual relationships are over 18 years of age, and no minors are sexually exploited in this content. In no way are actual events or persons depicted. The author of this story is not gay. Enjoy. Blood Feud Ch. 01 Blood Feud Ch. 01 I relaxed and lied back down, but I couldn't help feeling uneasy as he pulled a roll of fresh cloth from his cloak and set it on the ground with the medicine. "This is a healing salve I have prepared from krutsweed, silverberry, and a few other herbs." Argetlus said with a confident air of professionalism. "I recently ran out of my stronger medicines, but it should be enough to keep infection out of your wounds until you can see a well stocked city physician or healer." "How long was I sleeping?" I murmured, staring at the pasty concoction. He paused thoughtfully. "Something like... two days, if practicality pleases you. Two damned weeks, if honesty is what you prefer." I said nothing, my face a blank mask. It dawned on me then just how far the Remulan man, a complete stranger, had gone to make sure that I was taken care of. Would I have ever done something so selfless and absurd for another person? I continued to silently ponder these thoughts as he picked up his branch and walked to the edge of the cavern. "Anyway.. Make sure you dig in deep enough to get to the paste. You must apply it directly against your wounds. The liquid floating on top can be used to the cleanse the rest of your body. Just don't drink it. It will give you a stomach ache if you do..." "Why did you take my clothes?" The idle noise of rushing water outside the cavern only intensified the pause that followed. "...To treat you." I looked up sharply. "That's not what I meant. And you know it." The mischievous glint was back in his hazy eyes. "I don't—" "Why didn't you leave them here? So I could don them when I awoke?" For a moment he was solemn, but then the corners of his lips turned up into a sideways smile. "You would have tried to run. Or fight.. more. Also why I couldn't leave your weapons here." "That seems a poor excuse." He perked an eyebrow, imitating a pose of innocence. There was something he definitely wasn't telling me, and I didn't like it. "We can talk more after you are refreshed. I have also just finished preparing a small meal. I assume you are hungry?" Before I could speak again, he ducked under the waterfall and descended the cliff with a flick of his dark cloak. I stared after him until I heard his footsteps down on the bank. I wondered at the perplexing dream I must have been flying through. I couldn't even remember the last time I had spoken so much. After the sound of Argetlus' movements left my range of hearing, the eerie thought crept in that I had just met a ghost. I looked down at the damp, yellow bandages binding my hip. After feeling around for a few frustrating minutes and pulling at the clinging fabric with my fingernails, I managed to free a string that made the rest unravel instantly. I grimaced at the stinging sensation it resulted in. Seeing the fleshy gap in my skin surrounded by ugly purple bruising was enough to convince me that I was no longer dreaming. Blood Feud Ch. 02 Disclaimer: All characters involved in sexual relationships are over 18 years of age, and no minors are sexually exploited in this content. In no way are actual events or persons depicted. The mythology in this content is only loosely based on historical mythology and should not be seriously analyzed. Please remember to use protection while engaging in sex. The author of this story is not gay. Enjoy. *** It wasn't the first time I had mysteriously felt attracted to another man. I had been around plenty of other youth with strong, athletic bodies back in my days of training at the daemen academy of war. I had even dared steal furtive glances at some of the more charismatic daemen instructors on occasion. The daemen who ran the academy were different from the keepers of the human colony where I had experienced my regrettable childhood. They looked as individuals, like humans look apart from one another, but they shared distinctive features that easily identified them as a unified race. It surprised me how similar the bodies of the daemen were to that of ordinary humans. I suppose I had never really thought about what lied beneath the heavy armor before I was able to see them clad in sparse robes and communicating freely. Passing on the horns, spiked backs, and reptilian tails— daemen looked just like men in fact. Of course, they were also much taller on average and had otherworldly eye colors varying from deep reds to the palest pinks. They had all the necessities for mating as well, and my assumption was the gods of love and beauty still favored them enough despite the war. No. Don't think of that now... I shook myself from surreal memories of the academy and attempted to finish the painful, monotonous task of treating my wounds with a silent mind. But no matter how I tried, I couldn't keep my thoughts from straying to a time when my sex drive was less quelled inside me. The academy was terrible in ways that my home in the colony never was. At the same time, it was better there. It was a stupid mistake. There is no need to remember. The dream I had been trying to shun popped suddenly into my mind. It was like getting hit on top the head with a stone, and then looking up to see a rock slide crashing down. I had no control over the memory once I began to recall it. The daemen needed human soldiers to cushion their numbers, distract their enemies, and for the capability to steal holy weapons that they could not touch with their own hands. I had been forced to stay in one of the rowdiest top classes until the next duty call. I was 19 when I had met him. It had been about acceptance, the sex that is. But... had I loved him? My mind and heart were in turmoil since meeting Argetlus, and I had only known him for a small collection of minutes. I had to know if it was the same as before. So I freed my mind from its protective cage as I continued unwrapping bandages to apply the salve. *** 4 Years Ago -- Camp Ritur'ahrin, Red Band Block The metallic taste of blood was strong in my mouth. My lip had been cut open, and my eye was black. The one who had cut me was standing over me with a monstrous grin on his face. "Aww. He's crying." "I guess he really is a sheboy." "Eat shit, sheboy!" I was kicked in the ribs on my left side, and the wind was knocked from my lungs. In pursuit there were more kicks from all around me, attacking my most vulnerable areas. The world became a sea of kicks, and I was treading water. I threw up my head and screamed. "I am not a sheboy!" For the outburst I was rewarded with cruel snickers and more kicks. I twisted my head sharply around and scowled at the group of daemen mentors standing beneath the nearby rest pavilion in watch. A tall one with cherry red hair wound into a long braid shook his head in disappointment. His name escapes me now, but I knew him well enough to understand why he was disappointed in me. If I couldn't fend off my own peers, how would I survive on the battle field? I had finally been on the earth for 19 years after all, three years since I was brought to the academy after being selected in that fateful colony draft. I was at the peak of my strength and in the red band group, the highest camp class. The red bands were composed of young men aged 18 to 21. Everyone older from our crop had joined other camps or had already been carted off to battle. In only weeks, possibly days, I would depart to one of the five battle zones where I would fight on the front lines of the daemen "utility army". That was what they officially called it, but I had heard them joke about the "slaughter-line" just as often. "Hey sheboy. Blow me." said the grinning youth, tugging at his waistband and moving his hand toward me again. I rose off my knees and dashed through an opening between him and two more of the immature brutes. The pointed nubs in the barbed wire around my wrists sliced further through my skin with every painful movement. My eyes darted for something that I could make use of as a weapon or an obstacle. "After him! You two tarry!" My bare feet padded down the weeds as I fled. I sprinted naked across the field as the cold wind nuzzled into the high, golden grass around me. I heard them catching up behind me. Only three sets of foot steps. That meant there were five more of them going other ways. The resident sadist creep who was serving as leader had commanded two of them pick up the ambush, but he must have used a hand gesture to indicate some other strategy. I closed my eyes. I will not disappoint you again, Master. I thought like a silent prayer. But daemen didn't pray. When I opened my eyes there was a tree in my direct path. I kept running, managing five strong steps upward against the trunk before pushing off. I sailed over the first attacker's head and kicked myself into a sprint in the opposite direction. I had come down fast enough to weave between the other two, but only because they had stayed spread out in preparation for a much wider turn around. I heard their shouts behind me, warning the others. I kept running. My plan was to lose them and hide in the brush for awhile. I could find a way to untie my hands given enough time alone. Then I could make clothes of leaves and grass and sneak back into camp for revenge. Pranks like the one I was caught up in were played all the time, but I imagined it couldn't have been any better in the camps with women. I thought little of humanity in general. My eyes stung as I weaved through the thick vegetation, around trees, and over bushes. I stomped thistles and thorns until I was leaving bloody footprints in the dirt. The trail came into sight. I crossed past it because I knew they would be waiting for me along its easy footing. I circumnavigated camp and zigzagged as much as physically possible while trying to prevent leaving too obvious a trail. Their shouts resonated further and further away, and soon I was running side by side with a marked path that I was not familiar with. Evasion had always been my strongest skill. I crossed onto the new path in desperation, and that's when I saw him. Or rather, when I collided with him head first. A daeman man, dressed richly in purple robes with a flowing red trim. I knocked him to the ground at the impact, kept falling past him, and landed flat on my face. He sat there motionlessly looking over at me with startled pink eyes tinged in amethyst. His pupils were violet instead of black and slanted at a grotesque angle. A mane of tousled pink curls the color of summer wildflowers framed his pale face. The curves of his high cheekbones were outlined with shiny pink scales that matched his hair, which was decorated with complex restraints made from strings of silver beads and rare jewels. His strong, bone white horns were adorned with stacks of golden rings encrusted with smaller jewels of many brilliant colors. I remember thinking he was pretty. But somehow it was different than thinking the same of a woman. Most daemen were creepily pretty after all, but his features were chiseled and handsome. I stared at him wild eyed. My exposed body was coated in dirt, bruises, and blood, and I could not even cover myself because my hands were still tied behind my back. He smiled sheepishly, and my heart fluttered in my chest. There were shouts in the distance. I looked in the direction of camp, my breath catching in my throat. I heard him stand. I flinched my gaze back over to him. Leaves and grime clung to his lavish robes. "Don't worry." he said to me, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "" an older daeman called sternly up the trail. The prince called something back, also in the daeman tongue. I knew honorifics and brief phrases needed to understand battle commands, but little else from direct instruction. I had picked up on a few common sayings here and there, but I wasn't entirely sure what he had responded with. I think he was writing off our rough encounter as him tripping and falling by accident. He sounded humorously melodramatic. The prince turned and winked at me. I blinked dumbly at him in return, but not for long. A daeman noble servant with a stressed mound of white hair and a small gathering of guards came rushing up the trail at the sound of his voice. I darted into the bushes like a jumping-viper to avoid their detection. His servant began to hang all over the daeman prince, jabbering in their harsh, growl filled language endlessly while he pointed in the general direction of the guards with an accusing hand. The prince smiled and flipped his hair. It would have seemed like an arrogant gesture in different circumstances, but I realized it was actually a nervous habit from my vantage point behind the leaves. The prince did not make eye contact with his inferiors while he spoke brief words of reassurance. I tried my hardest not to shiver in the cool air and give myself away. I dared not move an inch, or even breathe, until they departed back towards camp. The sun was setting. I looked down at the trail where the prince had been knocked, and there was a short bone bladed knife glinting in the dirt. The handle was carved in the shape of a fire lizard's head, the royal symbol of the daemen. * The prince had arrived at the academy that day against his father's wishes. He had decided on a whim to take stock of the human soldiers who were being used in several territories of importance. At least, that is what I had heard everyone whispering around the sick tent. I lied in my cot wretchedly, fearing discovery by several people I would rather avoid at all costs. My classmates, who would shun me for failing the exercise and making an ass out of myself. My instructor, who undoubtedly would have some sort of punishment ready for skipping training to linger in the sick tent. And my mentor as well, who was probably the most disgusted with me of all. After my humiliating encounter with the prince however, all my motivations had been drained away like a head cold. I had heard he was eccentric. That was always the rumor. I had no idea he was a fucking pacifist. It went against the very nature of the prideful, warlike daemen who referred to themselves as "Titans". He could have easily ordered me executed just for touching him, let alone assaulting him in the forest while naked. Instead he had helped me out of a rather bad spot. In any case, I never expected to see him again. It was as I was about to drift off into a dark, fearful sleep when I heard his deep, husky voice. "Are you awake?" I shivered and opened one eye. It was him, watching me. His tall, slender form was cloaked in a heavy shadow inside the unlit tent, but his unmistakable purple tinged eyes were glowing a smile at me. "Glad to see you well." he said diplomatically. "I ordered your instructors to give you the day off for your recovery." I just stared at him, becoming more lost in a frozen, voiceless tomb the longer his eyes radiated in the dark in my direction. My own eyes must have been ready to explode, because he flickered a glance at my hands. My fists balled instinctively, and I felt goosebumps creeping on my arms. He was looking at the bandages on my wrists in a way I could not interpret. I felt my blood run cold. "I want to talk to you. In my chambers." he broke the silence. "Y-your majesty?" I suddenly remembered to say, then realized in shock I was in no way to question a daeman noble even after being addressed. He laughed softly. "Don't look so scared. I wouldn't eat the likes of you. But actually, that's sort of what I wanted to talk with you about." He grinned in what I supposed was a good natured way, displaying his neat rows of shiny, pointed teeth unique to daemankind in the grey darkness. I lost my voice again. "Well. Come with me." he insisted, actually touching me with his hand. Then I realized he was inflicting demanding pulls to my shoulder to ease me up. I complied, and the instant I was out of the cot, I was ready to fall flat on my face in an awkward attempt at a bow. He jerked me up by the strap of my pants, which rattled me into straightening up and holding my breath. I stared at him in astonished disbelief. He was close enough for me to see the outlines of his face, and as I watched he held a finger before his lips and quietly shushed me. I realized he had come to see me in secret, and I was even more baffled than I had been earlier. "This way, Dearie." the prince grinned as he led me from the tent with my hand in his. * He had apparently insisted on staying at the academy long enough to visit all of the camps. Mine was composed of the youngest group of male recruits. There was also the females only camp, and two more for older human trainees that were coed. Every camp was composed of five classes, and it would have taken a great deal of time and ground to see all of what the academy had to offer. I could see the prince more clearly outside in the light from the early night's moon. He had let his hair down from its extravagant bead and jewel encrusted restraints and tied it at the bottom with a plain black band. He was wearing simple grey robes in place of his royal attire, and no bracelets or rings. I suddenly remembered the knife, hidden in the pocket fold of the generic uniform the workers at the sick tent had provided me with. "Your majesty." I inquired. "I should return this to you." I pulled out the sheathless bone blade and held it in my palm with the handle facing him. "Keep it." he said with a dismissive wave. "I have entire rooms filled with more." When we arrived at the prince's tent, I anticipated legions of guards to swoop out of every shadow and beat the shit out of me. "I gave everyone orders to leave me to my dinner in privacy." the prince explained when he saw my wary expression. "Of course they didn't like it, but if any of them disobey me, I could just order them to kill themselves." Apparently finding this hilarious, the prince began to chuckle with a certain maniacal note in his voice while I stood by uncomfortably. I tried not to stare, fearing eye contact would somehow provoke him. "Step inside." he dictated with a bizarre shift to boredom in his tone. He pushed me forward gently enough, but I tripped and almost tore down half the tent trying to catch myself. The prince draped my arm over his shoulders and grabbed my pants to pull me up again. He tugged a little too hard, and I winced at the feel of my underclothes tightening over my bruised groin. He met my eyes then and looked down at me very closely. I could smell a floral but masculine perfume on him. He wore a serious expression, like he was asking me if I was alright, but there was a glint in his inhuman, amethyst eyes that wasn't solemn at all. I blushed unconsciously. He pulled me inside his tent without releasing me. It was a warm and spacious tent, and at least ten times larger than the ones human recruits were issued. I slid my eyes from the prince's inhumanly gorgeous face to stare at the decorative patterns woven into the fine fabric the tent was made of. I had never seen cloth dyed so colorfully or artfully. A red, velvety tarp had been lain over the grass inside, but with the numb, bandaged soles of my feet I only noticed because of the color. There were clusters of large white candles wedged in each corner of the tent carrying a scent like moon roses. They illuminated the tent with faint, wispy lights that dramatized the heavy shade. There was a low lying triangular table in the center designed for three people to eat at. Several large bowls decorated with finely inked patterns were waiting there, steam billowing from their rims. The prince walked me over to the table and sat me down on one of the three place mats. "Comfy?" he breathed into my ear. I flinched and blushed mutely. I wasn't sure that was the least offensive response, but he seemed to find it pleasant enough because he chuckled and rose back to his full height. My palms began to sweat as I sat there without saying a word, eyes affixed meekly to the tabletop as he moved behind me. "One moment." I heard him undo his robe and flick out his hair near a back corner of the tent. He padded back over to me and took one of the remaining seats. "So. I believe the translations are... 'sage pork', 'steamed vegetables', and 'Wretalorian snapping hen rolls'?" he slammed his bare feet up on the tabletop one at a time as he spoke, making me flinch twice. He had four long, clawed toes on each foot. I eyed his impressively clean soles. My gaze slid along his legs to his tight, grey tunic that displayed his firmly built torso. Daemen had more sets of muscles in their abdominal regions and arms, and all of his were finely tuned. He was packing a bulging eight pack and a powerful set of forearms. "Have absolutely as much as you like. I sent my adviser away before he could mooch. Serves him right for bothering me all day." "T-thank you, your majesty." I sought his approval. "I am most—" "Klarsi!" he shouted suddenly, and I nearly died of a heart seizure. "Please, call me Klarsi. There is no need for ridiculous customs and honorifics here. As long as no one else is around that is." I wondered then if the prince's motives for helping me were simply that he wanted companionship. Perhaps he was fed up with his life as an untouchable emblem of honor and royalty for the daemen people and desired normal relationships with others, even if it meant being friends with a human. I took a steadying breath and prepared to speak in earnest. "Thank you, Klarsi. I.. I'm not sure what to say. You.. you spared my life, and now you're giving me—" A warm, tasty morsel entered my mouth, and its juices exploded into the most delicious flavors my tongue had ever known. I stared cross eyed at Klarsi, who was smiling cheerfully as he held his large silver spoon inside my mouth. He pulled the spoon out of my still open mouth and licked its trough with a long, red tongue. "What do you think? You like it, don't you?" Klarsi spooned a generous proportion of the ham bits onto a plate and slid it over to me before I could respond. The prince of daemen had just served me dinner. "So, what's you're name, Dearie?" "I-I don't have one. T-thank y—" "What? No name? That won't do! I understand recruits are given numbers here, but what about before this dreadful hog run? No offense. What was your name in your home city?" "Uh.. I.. I don't know what it was. I mean..." I paused, looking up at him and waiting for another one of his random interruptions. But he was silent for once and examining me so closely that I quickly looked away. "I'm uncertain if I ever had one to begin with because I never knew my parents. The colony I grew up in. There were a lot of orphaned children there. Many adults with small children were taken away. I always figured both my parents had been. And theirs as well maybe." Blood Feud Ch. 02 There was a pause, which grew into a small hesitation, and finally matured into a long, drawn out silence. I dared look over at him. He was in a reclined position with his feet still on the table. The side of his cheek was pressed into his palm. His eyes were touched with a forlorn distance. He looked beautiful, I realized. I began to feel fuzzy inside, but the trigger of a dull pain near my cock reminded it to stay limp. "You don't remember them at all?" Instead of flinching at his sudden comment, I continued to stare at him while he wasn't gazing my way. "No." "But..." He met my eyes then, and that time he was the one startled into hesitation. A corner of his mouth turned up, and he continued speaking. "Someone must have nursed you. Human women nurse their young. You couldn't have survived on your own before you were a year old at least. Two years all the same. Three, four, and five years even, without someone to get food for you. Are you saying you don't remember any of that time?" I furrowed my brow in thought for a moment, but no matter how hard I concentrated, I couldn't remember anything before I was lost on the streets with the other orphans. I hadn't actually been without a name my entire life, especially after arriving at the academy. There were plenty of insults to call a person after all. "No." I said numbly. Klarsi clapped his hands together, making me sit up straighter. "Well then. I guess I'll just have to give you a name! You can't have dinner with a great man like me without one." I gazed at him skeptically, but he was already chewing on the end of his spoon in thought. He smiled delightfully with a flash of his pointed teeth. "'Nirju', the Titan word for 'night', because you have been in the dark all your days." he thought out loud, then aimed his spoon at my forehead. "It also matches your hair. Good, right?" I smiled at him. It is one in the handful of sweet moments I remember smiling honestly. "A name's a powerful thing. Don't lose it." I tried to eat everything he gave me, but it was at least six times as much as I usually had. My stomach was hardened, small, and would resourcefully digest anything even slightly nourishing. After only a dozen bites of Klarsi's food I felt like hurling. Daeman food was usually very spicy, and while the hot flavors were certainly there, it was milder from what I recalled of all my desperate thefts. Klarsi seemed to take the hint and started picking whole chunks of meat off my plate. Watching him eat was a very interesting and terrifying experience. He sawed off all four hog's legs with a silvery knife in a deceivingly aristocratic fashion, dangled them above his face, and shredded the meat to ribbons in his teeth. He would slowly turn the drumsticks around in his hand as he devoured their flesh, and when he was finished, the bones were left clean and white. Then he would eat those as well, crushing and grinding them with sickening noises. The only food he didn't touch was the vegetables. Come to think of it, I had never seen daemen use such plants for anything other than seasoning. I couldn't manage to come up with very interesting conversation, but he preferred to lead the discussion and do most of the chattering anyway. Mostly he enjoyed talking about himself. He went on about his collection of rare mounts, how generals thought they knew more about everything than even the king, and what the royal palace looked like in the warmer seasons furnished with exotic flowers from all over the world. I didn't mind him, because it meant I didn't have to talk about my own life. His self important ramblings were sort of like an escape from reality, as if he was relating a sugary children's tale. I heard the crickets singing outside the tent as I sipped the fine ale Klarsi had given me. It suddenly occurred to me how late it was. I was lost deep in worrying thoughts when he plopped down beside me and draped his arm over my shoulders. Klarsi chugged his remaining ale from the glass, tilting it upside down and running his tongue around inside the cup to polish off the last drop. The head of his pink, reptilian tail whipped me lightly on the ass. "This was very nice, Nirju." He turned toward me and poked my cheek playfully with a taloned finger. "But before you leave, I have one final matter to discuss with you." "W-what?" I stammered nervously as he cuddled into me. "I know you're hurt under there." he ran his talon over my tunic, tracing the movement with his eyes. His eyes continued lower than his finger reached and settled on my lap. My heart began to pound in my chest. "Show me. I want to make sure you were properly treated." "I had the best of care for these scratches." I would have continued about how I had received adequate rest thanks to him, but he was hardly listening. "Yes, I saw those scratches. Nirju you naughty liar. Take off your clothes. Now." I was caught in a dilemma. The prince may have seemed to like me, really like me even, but I knew refusing anything he told me to do was a gamble with my life. He was capricious and domineering enough as it was, but he had become noticeably drunk by then. With a heavy sigh, I decided not to risk upsetting him. "Fine. But can I... please have some space?" I blushed. Prince Klarsi gazed at me with his inhumanly slanted pupils. "No." I kept looking at him, unsure of what to do with his hard body leaning against my own, his arm hanging around me, and his fingers gently squeezing their talons in little circles on my shoulder. "Hurry up, Nirju. Or do you need help?" I began with my tunic. After I had loosened the ties in the back and pulled it off, I saw he was appraising my chest and arms thoroughly. He reached out to stroke me, and I gasped in shock. His talon traced the outlines of my fresh bruises. He cautiously slid it alongside some of my older scars as well, and I shivered at every new touch. "Oh... You are covered in hair, human." Klarsi chuckled. "And goosebumps." "Klarsi. This isn't..." I was going to say, but caught myself when he leaned forward and bent his head down to my abs. He angled his head sideways so his horns wouldn't hit me, and the movement caused his loose pink hair to spill over his shoulders and tickle my skin. His nose was aimed right at my crotch. "Mmm.." he said softly, taking hold of my sides with his hands. "Nirju, darling. You know, there's a rumor about me." his lips brushed me above the belly button as he talked. "They say it behind my back. That I'm... a whore." I could do and say nothing. I sat there staring down at Klarsi's daunting set of horns as he kissed me sweetly. The prince of daemen was bowing to me. I was immobilized by my pulse rushing in my ears as he pushed me gently onto my back. I felt myself getting hard, rising with each little peck he gave me. "Do you think it's true?" he pulled back a bit and said in an eerily serious tone. Then he laughed. "Well then. No one can see us doing this. You agree, don't you." "Klarsi?" I whispered. "Nirju." he purred. My erection was plastered to the right thigh of my pants. He stared at it openly and licked his moist red lips as he slid my pants off me. I whimpered and looked down at myself. The sensitive skin of my inner thighs was covered in large, ugly bruises. My exposed testicles were purple from the earlier beating as well. He was gazing at the marks coldly. I began shivering harder, although I had been trying to repress it. My body was aware of how close I was to my natural predator as a human. After all, if it wasn't for the daemen other humans would be our only predators. And it was no secret that the daemen thought of human flesh as a delicacy. He spread my legs apart so he could sit on either side of them and be close to my groin. He brushed the back of his fingers over my left thigh so his talons didn't scratch the tender spots. He gave my right side the same, delightfully excruciating treatment. I bucked my hips upwards with a low moan. Then I was embarrassed because I wasn't sure what exactly I had been trying to do. I blushed hot in the cheeks and glanced at Klarsi. He was smiling warmly at me. My blush was slowly spreading across my chest beneath the fine coating of dark hair. "Being touched there is nice, hmm?" he said huskily and tickled my thighs with more strokes, completely ignoring my stiff member. "You know, Nirju. If you were a Titan, your horns would be huge for your height." I bit down on my lower lip to repress a moan and tightly shut my eyes. I realized his game then. I knew exactly what he wanted. He was going to force me to be his sheboy, just like they were always teasing me about for my small stature. And I was in no position to refuse the royal bastard. I wasn't certain I even wanted to. What he was doing felt so intimate, and I had always wanted someone to like me enough to offer me caresses, kisses, and warmth. He backed off me then. I waited for him with my closed eyelids trembling while he stepped out of his own clothes. He scooped me up in his smooth, hard arms suddenly. I felt his strong muscles contracting as he carried me to the large bed in the back of the tent. He tossed me onto the bed with a gentle creak, and I felt like I was sinking into a cloud. I stared up at him curiously. He was gazing at me with his eyes half closed. "I knew it... You match my blanket perfectly. That's what I was thinking. When I saw your beautiful face." His bed was dressed in black and white silk woven into ornate patterns similar to the ones on the dinnerware. I grasped at the blanket helplessly and bunched it up in my hands. I glared down at the floor. I was in the prince of daemen's bed. "Are you going to...?" "Nothing you don't want to do, slave." I looked at him incredulously. Candlelight flickered across his scale dappled chest and reflected mischievously purple in his gaze. He had not a trace of body hair, and there were no nipples on his fine pecs. His long, thick member was half flagged in the cool air. Once I saw it, I couldn't look away. It twitched with happiness and inflated under my gaze. "Mmm." Klarsi moaned. "Want to see who's bigger? It will be close." He stepped nearer and pushed me into a full reclining position, forcing me to look up at his face. He tenderly brushed a knuckle over the cut on my lip. I stared sleepily at him as he climbed up beside me. "Klarsi... why me?" "Because the Fates decided it. And they are the most powerful of us all." he grinned, but did not show his teeth this time. He lay beside me for a while, stroking my face fondly. I had never sensed such a wonderful touch before. I pressed forward an inch, returning his gaze heatedly, and the tips of our erections met. He leaned in and pecked me chastely on the lips. It felt as soft a sensation as rubbing a downy feather between my fingers. He held the kiss without moving or demanding more, and our eyes stayed locked. The prince of daemen was kissing me. He lowered his head and brushed his lips against my pleasantly full stomach, tracing my trail of dark hair lower. My chest heaved, and I began to moan openly. "I have desert for you, Nirju my pet." he breathed. "There's some for each of us. Hm, hmm." He was feeling around inside the pillow my head was resting on. I had never even seen pillows before. He was kissing my left nipple as he pulled a small bottle filled half way with a clear fluid out of the black pillow case. I moaned and raised my hips at the sensation of him taking my nipple in his mouth against a closed wall of teeth and sucking on it. He shifted his weight and climbed on top of me. I tangled my hands in his hair and firmly pressed my lips back against his. He kept his teeth closed and did not allow my tongue through, but my willingness made him moan enthusiastically. "Nirju, you little minx. I don't want to accidentally bite you and have to bite you againnn." I glared at him, and he laughed. "Don't dae— Titans kiss?" "Not physically." he grinned salaciously. "But you do not need to worry about that, Nirju." Growing serious, he palmed the liquid and began to massage it into my chest. He lingered on my nipples and belly button, circling the sensitive nubs with his fingertips angled so his talons did not get in the way. I felt electrical currents of pleasure travel straight to my cock at the attention and whimpered quietly. He leaned in and licked my right nipple with a lap of his tongue. I moaned sensuously. My mind was heavy and lost in the pleasure I was receiving. I couldn't believe how good it felt to let someone else touch me. "Like it, Nirju?" I moaned illegibly in response. He lowered himself to smooth the lubricant over my balls. The touches to my bruised sack were careful and light, but it still hurt a little to be worked there. "I want to hear you say it..." I mewled a whimper as his fingers whispered across my sensitive organs. "No. Bad slave. Say you like it." He bounced my sack teasingly in his palm. I cried out at the bolts of pain it caused, and precum oozed on the tip of my stiff erection at the conflicting sensations. "Klarsi please. I.. I l-like it." He flicked his tongue at my head to clean it off. I bucked at the gesture and bumped him on the nose with my member. He growled deeply in his throat at me. I shivered in realization of my mistake. "I'll ignore that little blunder, but only for its cuteness." He tilted the bottle in his hand a second time and started moving it up and down my shaft to apply the slick of lubricant. His amethyst tinged eyes were boring into me as he tugged. "Klarsi.." I moaned. "Oh. We really like that, don't we? Say it. Say you need me." "I need you." "Good boy." He eased his body up against mine and pumped some lubricant onto his own throbbing member before placing it at length to my own. Our cocks were resting against one another. He grabbed both of them simultaneously and squeezed. "How dare you be longer than me?" he contested, watching for a moment as he rubbed us together. "You had better not cum after me." *** My hands were shaking. I was staring blankly into my empty palms. I wondered how long I had been sitting there wasting time. It's not the same. Cares is a cocky bastard and a bit of a dickhead, but he's nothing like him. My eyes widened in shock. I had thought of the doctor by his first name. Not the same. Completely different. My breathing was ragged. I felt overheated as if my blood was boiling inside me, and sweat was pooling in the grooves of my muscles. My gaze drifted down to the erection plastered against my belly pleading for a warm hole to sheath itself inside. My head was swollen and flushing. I touched a shy fingertip to my leaky opening and drew out a wet string of precum when I moved it away. A wave of pleasure coursed through me, and my cock twitched needfully. My eyes were rolling up in my head so I closed them and choked back a moan. I sent the bowl of medicine a glare of lust without meaning to. I thought about rubbing the soothing liquid onto my inflamed member, but I would never forgive myself if Argetlus came back and saw me that way. I was a mess. I couldn't have faced him again as I was though. I knew I would have never been able to calm down at that point. I would have to remedy my condition, quickly. I lowered myself onto my elbows and knees gingerly, but I was not so gentle that it didn't sting my wounds a little. I yanked the blanket over my traitorous body and bunched one edge into a roll so I could bite down on the thick fabric and muzzle myself like a dog. I pressed a hand print into the salve and felt its frosty tingle on my skin. After taking a deep, stalling breath through my nose, I moved my coated fingers under the blanket and grasped my cock in a firm handshake. I didn't hesitate for long before I was jerking and poking savagely. My back and injured hip burned to protest the strain I was forcing on them, but I didn't stop for comfort. I was imagining him beneath me again. I thought of the feel of his seductive hands as he embraced me closely and stroked my back. Then his fingernails were gently scratching red trails across my skin. I thought of him wiggling his ass in halfhearted resistance and teasing me with his exotic, flowing accent. "Is that your best, Nirju? Can't you thrust harder? Perhaps we should switch?" His impish green eyes materialized in my mind when I achieved climax. I released a tortured scream into the blanket as my cock exploded within my palm. I freed two potent shots of cum, and a moment later, a final leaky stream gushed between my fingers and dripped onto the ground. My knees gave out, and I flopped onto my stomach in exhaustion. I lay there for a while, struggling to swallow enough breath. I panted hoarsely and rolled onto my good side with a forlorn moan. I felt overdosed on contentment and wanted to sleep again, even with my hand damp, sticky, and coated in my excretions. I brought my palm to my mouth and licked at it in annoyance. It tasted harshly minty and sordidly bitter all at once. I spat, then picked myself up to spit again and wipe my mouth with my unsoiled hand. I was ashamed of myself, but not because I believed unnecessary pleasure to be sinful. Ideas like that hadn't come from my culture, although I had thought for a time that there were few pleasures that did not harm others. I was ashamed because I was weak. After rinsing my hands and tending to the rest of my body's grievances, I ripped a loose thread from Argetlus' woolen blanket with my teeth and used it to tie back my long hair. I believe I already mentioned how that madman had literally removed my every stitch of clothing? After wrapping myself securely back up in the blanket, I crept forward to take a peak over the cavern's edge. I paused with my face before the mildly flowing waterfall. I jutted my head into the cold stream, making sure to secure the blanket firmly around my neck. I needed to keep my bandages dry as possible, or Argetlus might have insisted that they be changed again. I caught several gulps of water in my mouth. It tasted cool and pure. Waterfalls made for excellent drinking, and my throat had been sore and dry. After quenching my thirst, I plunged my head the rest of the way through the flowing curtain. The brown shore of the mountain lake was a short jump below. I could have easily cleared the landing in a better state. My shoulder wound had shriveled and hardened into a thin white scar, but my back and hip still ached terribly and looked almost as bad. I realized that all of my lingering injuries had been inflicted by the magic of the stolen Wrath of the Sun. Blessed sword, huh? I thought in vexation. Couldn't piss me off more. Blessed was really just the Angelic term for cursed, and for some reason people didn't even argue with it. I geckoed down the cliff face and followed Argetlus' clumsy trail of branch scratchings along a moist shoreline of rich, silty clay. The weather was pleasant and warm. The trees around me were silent as my bare feet plopped against the damp ground. They were the thin, wispy trees with needley leaves that could be expected to grow up in the mountains. The valley lake was a shimmering green mirror. I imagined that place was a rare paradise on the gods forsaken earth. If only made so peaceful by the lack of men, who spoil everything. My bangs were dripping, so I bunched the blanket into a hood over my head. When I stopped in my tracks to breathe in the fresh air, I could smell the aromatic smoke from a nearby cookfire. My mouth began to water, and I grasped at my empty stomach. Curiously, I felt hungry but not starving. I wondered if the young Remulan doctor had even found a way to feed me while I had been out. A thousand questions surfaced in my mind. Blood Feud Ch. 02 Why did he bring me here? Perhaps because the environment is ideal for purifying the body of toxins. But then.. it must have been difficult to move me this far. "Hey!" I glared over at Argetlus coolly. He was standing on the other end of the bank, holding a pile of familiar looking clothes with a strangely timid expression on his face. Traces of white smoke trickled up behind him. I started his way, drooping my head so my eyes were shaded. He walked to meet me on sandaled feet. He was short for a Remulan, but not below my own height. The top of my head could have fit below his chin if we were standing closely enough. I tried not to think about it. "I figured you wouldn't wait around for me. How are your wounds?" Argetlus chirped with his usual sleepy half smile. There was a hint of color in his cheeks, and he was avoiding direct eye contact. I glared narrowly at him. He better not have seen anything. "Fine." I muttered, blushing involuntarily. "I would prefer at least to check the one on your back." "No." "Oh? Why not?" "..." He shifted his feet and tilted his head at me. I enjoyed the idea of making him uncomfortable, even if it felt like an excuse for my own lack of social skills. "Whatever pleases you... Here are your clothes. I mended your cloak for you, but it was so damaged I had to patch it." He returned a pile of clean, neatly folded garments to me. I reached an arm outside the blanket's warm cocoon and snatched at it. My hand brushed his, and I felt a strange tingle flow between us. He didn't flinch away from my touch, but instead seemed to linger in it. Clutching the bundle impatiently to my chest, I distracted myself by pulling out a pant leg. The dark green fabric had been cut very, very short. I stared at it while Argetlus dropped my boots to the ground with a clop. "What is this..?" "Hmm? The cloth is similarly dyed, so I used your trousers to mend your cloak... Is there a problem?" I released all the irritation that had been building up inside me at that backward Remulan man for the last few minutes by delivering a swift punch to his face. My hand avoided his beautiful eyes, of course, but also seemed to stray from his nose and jaw. My knuckles cracked against his cheek, and he fell back, clumsily landing on his ass. "What the fuck was that for?" he demanded from the ground, a hand over his bruised cheek and one green eye screwed shut in an adorable wince. "You disgust me." I turned my back to him and lowered the blanket down to my waist. I secured it as snugly as I could to preserve decency and unfolded my tunic with a flick of my wrist. "...This is the thanks I get?" He sounded more sarcastic than angry. "In return for your services, I shall allow you to live." I bluffed. I didn't look over at him as I donned my thin, black tunic and straightened my collar. I had expected him to think I was joking, maybe even laugh. Then he would get the idea that I was serious when I didn't say anything, and maybe he would leave me alone after that. "So you're more than a simple bounty hunter. You're a murderer of innocent people, like those you hunt." His tone was dark and acidic, when before he had sounded so carefree, so different. It was as if his voice had changed suddenly, deepening in pitch and lowering in temperature. The hairs on the nape of my neck began to stand on end, and my instincts were telling me that my back should not be turned. I heard him stand, take a step closer, hesitate. My breathing stopped momentarily. I could feel his eyes boring holes into the back of my skull. "I only kill rapists and murderers. Those who take things that can not be replaced." He paused, but the mood seemed to lighten. When he spoke again, he sounded as he normally did. It was almost as if I had imagined the frigid voice from before. "I didn't touch you in any way I did not have to in order to save your damned life." "In case you haven't noticed, the doctors in these lands do not strip their charges naked and bathe them while they are unconscious." "Maybe not. But I only did what I was taught to in my home country. I do apologize for not wearing a fucking blindfold." I released a long, slow breath. "You're a long way from home, Remulan." I mused out loud. "Give me some damn privacy." "...Right." He decided to drop the argument and obediently turned, scratching at the back of his neck fitfully. "Perhaps I will tell to you my story, if you're curious." he called back as he walked away. "But only in return for your own." I tilted my head to one side very subtly and watched him with narrowed eyes as he paced back to the fire. He walked with a lazy swagger. What a dick. I pondered his earlier words. He had sounded like a man ready to draw blood, which didn't suit his lax, sympathetic personality. Was what I had said really that offensive? He had defiled my body. I was the one who had the right to a grudge. Even as I mulled this over, I couldn't keep my eyes from straying to his strong, dark legs sprinkled with strikingly contrasting fair hairs as they rippled with movement. The wind brushed his cloak to one side, and I watched his pretty little rear dance behind the tail of his tunic as he ambled forward. There was something like a hidden grace in that stride. I gasped quietly. A memory flashed across my mind's eye. A figure shrouded in darkness. A bolt of lightning leaving its puckered hand and alighting on Razo the bandit. Razo's eyes turning white, mouth wide in a soundless scream. I finished dressing in haste. He had returned my belt, but not my quiver or bow. I turned my belt in my hands checking each of the hidden pockets and loops to make sure all of my possessions were accounted for before strapping it on. The only vials missing were the antidotes Argetlus had taken to use for my treatment. All of my vials were unmarked, and I was grateful he knew his poisons so well or I would have most definitely died. I matched the missing bottles to the suspicious ones I had swiped from the cavern and replaced them. I didn't seem to be short any knives either, which was impressive considering sometimes even I couldn't manage to retrieve them all after a sloppy battle in the forest. I lingered on the pocket that contained the small bone bladed knife. I had not checked it since my last anniversary, almost a year ago. Slowly, I pinched it open. The handle looked dark in its shadowy pouch. I didn't take it out. I couldn't with him around. I approached Argetlus casually. He was sitting before the low burning fire with his legs curled before him, back turned. I had a good view of his nicely shaped shoulders, but I didn't allow my eyes to wander to their liking. It annoyed me to no end how gorgeous the man was. He had two pots surrounded by flat stones that were still glowing red hot from a recently steadied fire. My mouth began to water as I drew close enough to see inside. One pot contained three freshly caught fish boiling with mushrooms and little red herbs. The other bore a thick, brown broth floating bite sized chunks of meat. I was astounded. Nothing I cooked on my travels had ever looked nearly as appetizing. For my daily meals I would catch small animals, such as rodents or lizards, and roast the meat on skewers. That was when I was lucky. And as for gathering, I would eat any edible berries or nuts that I found on the spot. No need to save them for garnishing shit. I spotted my bow and quiver resting in the grass near him and moved to take them. "Look tasty? I hope you like long eared rat and Tano fish." Argetlus said cheerfully and sipped some wine from another bowl. "'There's no such thing as a free lunch.' I believe that saying comes from your people." I said as I slipped my quiver over a shoulder. Argetlus chucked quietly. "You must have been exposed to plenty of Remulans before me. Have you ever been to Remula?" "No." I lied. "Ah... Well. Your grave wounds are enough of a penance for this meager lunch." he offered cryptically as he stirred the delicious smelling broth. "Please, sit with me." "I can't accept this." I said quietly, lowering my eyes. My own words somehow caused my gut to despise me intensely. "I have burdened you enough already. While I am grateful that you saved my life, I must be on my way before I cause you any more trouble." He turned to look at me, and I felt miserably guilty. Yet another feeling I wasn't used to. "As your physician, I insist that you stay long enough to have a meal precious to your health." Before I could wedge in an objection, he continued. "You are in no condition to travel alone." his tone darkened. "You have been severely cursed, my friend. The magic you were attacked with is still active and stubbornly refuses to relieve you from its grip of death. Which reminds me. I am certain you have plenty of questions about your situation that you are eager to hear answered?" I narrowed my eyes at the back of his head as he poured some stew into a bowl. However tempting his offers, I hated such manipulations. Argetlus appeared to be sharper than he let on, which made me uncomfortable enough. But combined with the predicament I had awoken to, I found that I lacked even a sprinkling of trust for the man. Most people probably would have felt completely the opposite for someone who had saved them so indiscriminately, but he was a man who appeared to be hiding behind a mask. What made me the most wary though was the small part of me that insisted on wanting to trust him. I decided it would be easiest to pretend that my guard had been lowered by his talk. That way I could accept information from him and compare its authenticity with what I already knew happened. All the while I was trying to internally reassure myself that I hadn't actually become at ease with him. "I do have questions. The bandits Kutka, Ha'zok and Razo, Nortahn. What became of them?" I pulled the hood of my cloak up as I walked around the low, smoking fire to sit across from him. I sat as I usually did— legs curled, stacked, and knees facing forward with my hands resting against them. "And where are their weapons?" I draped the tail of my patched cloak over my exposed skin as I finished speaking. He stared at me with smiling eyes that reflected an eerie red and orange glow from the embers. "Weapons? I have stored a brutishly large sword and a collection of other very illegal trinkets in a safe place." "What are you, a tree rat?" Argetlus' unrestrained musical laughter struck a cord of surprise in me. And another of something else. A sweet feeling like drinking the nectar from inside a honey lily that was also bitter as losing a favorite friend. Nostalgia. "It isn't far, if that's what you're worried about. I'm having a friend look after them. I suppose you have someone to report to with them?" He handed over a warm bowl of the meat stew, and I mumbled my thanks as I took its rim on either side in my spread fingertips. The steam pouring off the bowl carried a delicious, hearty scent. "There is no hurry." My post and every other bounty hunter in Chesl'mineio probably thought I was dead by then, but as long as I returned with the weapons, the silver was mine. I searched the ground for a moment and picked up a twig. Setting the bowl down in my lap, I drew a throwing knife a little too sharply, and Argetlus stiffened. I looked over at him curiously, but he was already tipping his own bowl and loudly slurping at the stew. And his kind called mine barbarians? "Ahh..." he sighed, then cleared his throat. I gawked at him indignantly. "As for the bandits' location, I know not. Are they who nearly killed you?" "...You were there." I cued, peeling the twig with the edge of my blade. I turned the wood around until I had formed a clean, white point; perfect for fishing larger morsels into my mouth before sipping the thick gravy. He furrowed his brow. "You remember seeing me? Are you certain?" "It was slightly difficult to miss you striking my opponents with lightning." He frowned as he took another drink from his bowl, but his green eyes were smirking as if taunting me. I ignored his clueless tactics and began stabbing the tender meat chunks out of my stew and shoveling them into my mouth. It was so good, I almost moaned at the first taste. "So that is what you saw? T'wasn't me." he coolly claimed. "I would guess that you suffered some hallucinations from the nasty sort of poison you were inflicted with. However... it was a sound like thunder that drew me to you." I had wondered earlier if he could have been the same man who had swatted the Dragonspell Bandits off me like flies. I was then certain it was him. "When I heard it the first time, I looked up at the sunny, cloudless sky and was baffled. I thought there might be some casters having a pissing contest, so I decided to go see if anyone was in need of first aid. Wine?" He offered me his own wine cup, and I assumed it was a custom to share drinks that way in Remula. I raised my hand in refusal. I wondered if he intentionally kept trying to change the subject in order to think on his lie. "More for me." He took another heavy gulp of spirits and licked his full lips with the tip of his pink tongue before continuing his tale. My groin tingled. I froze with my stake half way to my mouth, unable to believe I was beginning to feel aroused again. "I found you lying in a heap bleeding to death and suffering toxin induced seizures. There were scorch marks on many trees, and the ground was blackened in patches from a potent thermal energy. I suspected that the reason there wasn't a roaring brush fire by then is because the magic used was so swift and directional that it put itself out on contact. However, I discovered some shifted clots of dirt coating the scorched vegetation that did not appear natural in origin. The fellows who attacked you must not have been the sharpest if they were using fire magic that recklessly in the middle of a wooded area." I sighed. Only a caster would have been able to give such thorough commentary on a fight involving magic. "Am I a fool to you?" "Oh? Is that your name?" I glared hotly at him, directly into his tantalizing eyes. "Fuck you." "Would you?" I nearly spat back into my bowl at that remark. Straightening, I didn't allow him to throw me for a loop and held my ground against his entrancing gaze. It was like staring down a cat. The nostalgia I had been hiding from touched me again. I forfeited our undeclared contest and scowled into my bowl. You wish I would. I thought moodily. "Are you still upset about how I managed you while you were unconscious?" I perked up, startled by the accuracy of his inquiry. I narrowed my eyes at my stew. "Would you like to see me naked? So we will be even?" I pulled my hood lower and forced on a hard frown while I blushed helplessly at the suggestion. Heat surged into my groin, and I felt myself ripen. Ordinarily I would respond to such outrageous talk by lashing out, but I was beginning to get used to his antics. "I hope you're proud of yourself for asking such an inappropriate question, you sodomite." "That's your favorite epithet for me." I heard the smirk in his tone as he drank down more ill behaved spirits. "I can show you how there is no dire consequence of being naked before another man. Honestly. You are sensitive as a woman regarding the issue." "It was you in the forest that day. Why lie about it?" I felt him looking at me, but I dared not look back and portray my inner turmoil with a potentially frail expression. "I'm not. Want a fish?" I smacked my bowl to the ground and scrambled to my feet. All my life, I had been too weak to do anything myself. No matter how hurt or lost I was, there was always someone there to help me back up. Everything I had ever accomplished had been the gift of a shadow lurking over me. I began marching into the needle armored trees as green as Argetlus' eyes. The warm breeze was pulling me forward with familiar caresses, encouraging me in my choice. "Hey!" Argetlus yelled, sounding flabbergasted. I tracked him with my ears as he raced after me and stopped to hover a few steps behind. "Look." he said lowly. "I'm not—" I spun and slashed at him with a dagger. He sidestepped it with his eyebrows raised and knocked it out of my hand with a straight aimed fist. He followed up by grabbing my collar in one hand and rearing the other back in preparation to block my volley of counter strikes. I snapped his own collar up and attacked him with aimless punches. "What is your problem!? Cut it out you crazy bastard!" he shouted at me. We collapsed onto the ground, and he immediately locked me in a choke hold. I would have thought of it first, but the tumble had hurt my injuries. I struggled to breathe under his brawn. I could have drawn another dagger, but I didn't want to severely harm him. He released me easily, and I went limp in his arms. "I know you're upset, but please. That's enough. I won't tease you anymore, okay?" He helped me up, and I ducked my head and turned away before he could see my swollen, watery eyes. He grappled me into an embrace from behind. "You must be going through a lot in your life right now. I know it's hard, but sometimes you need to allow others to help you." I wheeled away from him and glared angrily. "I'm just fine. I don't need a disgusting sodomite like you chasing my ass." I began to stomp away. I had taken no more than four steps when he spoke again. "You tried to kill yourself." I halted in my tracks. "There was a knife clasped in your hand when I found you. You were pointing it at your own throat. That's why I didn't leave your clothes with you. I thought your nakedness would act as a mental trigger of self preservation." "I had received the mark of a coward on my back. I might as well have died like one." "Honor nothing. You tried to die because you wanted to." I could have ignored him and just left. I could have demanded him to take me to where he had stashed the weapons and stolen a mount from some nearby mountain village to give him the slip. Instead, I stood there facing the forgotten meal with tears that I couldn't control streaming down my face. He approached me cautiously and rested his hands on top my shoulders to turn me around. I looked at him wretchedly. He thumbed the tears from my cheeks and embraced me again. His body felt firm and strong as a seasoned warrior's and not soft and yielding like a simple doctor's. He was so warm, like falling asleep in the sunlight. When he ran his hands over my back, my heart melted. "Let me help you heal." Argetlus pleaded, holding me closer. He pointedly kept his hips away from my own, and I wished he wasn't. I felt like I was having a sudden remembrance of losing something important after leaving his embrace. We walked back to our food in silence that felt more companionable than awkward. The first thing he did was pick up his wine. "My name..." I started. But I couldn't tell him. He was so much like Klarsi that I couldn't bear to hear the title of endearment he had given me on Argetlus' lips. If I didn't separate him in my heart from the daeman prince, I would go mad. "It's Klarsi." The clay bowl slipped out of Cares's fingers and an arch of wine splashed from its rim as it dropped to the ground. It shattered into dense, jagged shards, and the red, translucent drink inside swam into little streams atop the mud. He seemed to bend his head toward me in slow motion. His usually lazy green eyes were wide and ablaze with intuition. Blood Feud Ch. 03 Blood Feud Ch. 03 "Although I didn't note you as the sentimental type..." "I prefer to look before I walk." I clarified monotonously and started forward. It couldn't be. A Wretalorian town untouched by the war? The side of the Angels was almost exclusively supported throughout Wretalor. Although it was far worse politically in Skaldia where numerous regulations and laws were always being posted by King Ron, courtesy of his Angel advisers. The word of the king prevented humans from partaking in activities and luxuries that Wretalorians needed not so much as scratch their asses in concern over. Even so, this was border territory. In the far eastern reaches of Wretalor, I was surprised not to see colorfully painted posters decorating the main roads with depictions of glorious, sun beam emitting Angels slaying exaggeratedly hideous daemen. The roads were bare of decoration wherever I looked— and cluttered by litter, hoof tracks, and the occasional pile of uncleared cow dung. "Ooooooooh. Tha doctor's back." giggled a slurred, feminine voice. "Who's tha bitch he's wit?" added an indignant, heavy drawl. I glared interrogatively in the direction of some young women standing on the street corner, but they were grinning lecherously past me and blinking excessively at Cares. With hardly a glance, he touched his ring finger to his puckered lips at them and followed with a curt wave, and they exploded into bubbly fits of laughter. Not believing what I had seen transpire, I stared in shocked abhorrence at Cares. He didn't meet my gaze and continued to stride forward with a lazy smirk. "What the hells was that about?" I prodded. "Was what about?" he eyed me inquisitively. I narrowed my eyes at him, and he shrugged. I was quickly forced to adapt to the strange reactions Cares drew from the citizens of Tsenat. He seemed to have a reputation with every walk of life there. Women in particular, I noticed, kept crawling out of every door, window, and hole to watch us passing by. A random pair of young ladies in lacy dresses would walk by him smiling shyly behind their fans. Many a drunken wench would slip out of a distant tavern and stand by posing in indecent flirtation. Once I even heard a tall, robust woman wearing pants shout into her house, "Oh no you ain't! Yer stayin' o'way from that 'un til yer of marrying age!" Even more nettling were the reactions from some of the men we happened past. I recognized the lusty stares they aimed down my companion's body as well as the murderous leers they directed straight at my face. There were also those more decent folk who approached to shake Cares' hand. "Doctor Argetlus! Good ta see ye back in Tsenat. Would ye please stop by and 'ave a luk at me darling Bonu? She's so hopelessly ill. Tried everythin', we 'ave!" "But of course I will, Clu'rek. Is she able to eat and speak alright?" "Yea, it's not so bad that she con't. But she need's ta work, ye know?" "I'm on business now, but I'll stop by early this morning." "A course." "Aye doctor! Can you come treat my prized calf's hind leg? He's been limpin' about fur a week now!" "I'll be around for a morning call, Retta." "Ite. Hurry up you! Breakfast's on me." By the time we had reached the town's central hall, I wasn't sure if I should be amused or utterly disgusted. Perhaps I had become far too expectant of the wooden social behavior and strict protocol of the Skaldian cities I frequently visited. But the people behaved like wild dogs in Tsenat, and Cares acted as if he was enjoying every bit of the unscrupulous attention. I was going to sarcastically inquire of his mood when violent shouting snagged my trained ear over the noisy but peaceful clamor. There was a narrow stone walkway lined up with the larger, central most buildings of town, and a mob was standing at its end. It faced a filth spattered wooden stocks where a slimy, greenish brown figure was kneeling with its head and hands locked in the indents of the headboard meant to restrain it there. The swarm of people were obnoxiously flinging rotten produce at the pathetic blob secured in the stocks. I hesitated in my stride involuntarily to absorb the horrid sight with a sly gaze. "Devil scum!" "You'll get yer real punishment in the hells!" So, politics exist here after all. I wondered what horrible atrocity the prisoner had committed. Perhaps it was a girl who had sex with her love instead of the man who had given her parents the most silver? Or maybe someone had eaten another man's potato? No, of course not. How silly of me? Both of those crimes would have been punishable by death under Angel influenced laws. Upon closer inspection, I realized the blob in the stocks was hungrily thin by its noticeable ribcage and twiggy limbs, but the thick layer of grime it was coated in had a ragged and plump texture. The prisoner's long, matted clusters of hair were glued like spider's webs to its broad trunk of a back. The bony points of its bent knees were stabbing into the stone floor, and its toes were similarly stuck so that its heels were aimed painfully high. I thought its head had been fitted with a bizarre hat made of broken sticks. I gasped in realization that the captive bore horns. The daeman's right horn was about three times taller than the other but split down the side by a large, ugly crack. His left was jaggedly broken off at the base. The knowledge that it was extremely painful for a daeman's horns to be fractured surfaced in my mind. I felt queasy and could taste bile. I ground my teeth together as my itchy fingers grasped at the neck of my bow, which was slung in biddable expectation over my shoulder. A hand steadied me. "If that was an Angel, would you care as much?" Cares solemnly asked, looking haggard in the face and suddenly years older. "What does it matter?" I snarled and jerked my shoulder away from him. "It's all the same. When I see someone being tortured for no damn reason other than for what they are, it pisses me off." "Klarsi, you said you only kill very specific nefarious sorts before?" Cares reasoned, staring at the brutal mob severely. "That man is a ... half breed who had nothing to do with the war. However.. he killed and ate many people in this very town before he was finally captured. Please Klarsi, if you say anything, it would enrage the citizens here who have suffered losses of beloved family members." I swelled with hatred for the world at his plea. I have seen and heard many horrible things, but this? It was one of the worst. "What reason would he have had?" I breathed coldly without looking at Cares. He turned me to face him and tilted my chin up with his thumb. He bathed me in his eyes; the beautiful, understanding pools of lush warmth that melted me from the outside in and guided me out of the darkness threatening to consume my heart. "He was tormented all his life by the townsfolk for being part Titan, Klarsi." There was only gentle exposition in his voice. He was in no way attempting to pick a side or assume that one party was right while the other was wrong. He was able to see the situation as a tragic fate for everyone involved without reacting in biased anger. I stopped hating Cares at the end of that long day. How could I ever keep on despising someone so far superior to myself? Someone who had shown me the true meaning of kindness. "Let's leave this place now. There's no need for us to linger." I craned my head to bestow one final wishing glance on the bound hybrid who the mob was chanting "monster" at. He was looking at me with an uneven gaze that spoke of the hells. One of his eyes was blood red, and the other was sky blue. I quickly averted my troubled stare, but I kept seeing his unsettling, blank eyes in my mind for a long time after. Blood Feud Ch. 03 "Hmm, I just remembered..." he thought aloud, then shifted his weight to look over at me. "Would you allow me to tend your wounds? It's about time they were redressed." I said nothing and didn't return his gaze, but my hand curled around a dagger at my belt and peeked its blade menacingly from the sheath. "...Really Klarsi? Immortal gods, you are a stubborn bastard." When I didn't respond, he released a long, frustrated breath. I smirked. Perhaps I do need some fun every now and then? "I apologize in advance for having to do this to you." Cares said slowly as he dug around in his bag. "But it's for your own good." I tensed. He had spoken the classic warning banter of a caster. I darted to my feet, but he whipped around and tapped me on the side of the throat with a needle. The effects of his ploy weren't immediate, but made sure to restrain me in a secure hold. He grabbed my wrists in the bone crushing grip of his hands and jerked my arms back hard behind me. Then he slammed my face and raised elbows up into a wall. The dagger I had pulled fell out of my hand and clattered to the floor. "Mmph!" I snarled into the wall. "Easy. Take it easy." he cooed, his chin resting on my shoulder. I wrapped my legs around him from behind, but he was more than strong enough to hold my weight in place while my own muscles gradually went limp. I felt his stiff cock pressed up against my ass through his underclothes and realized what the position I had just put us in could be used for. A very spiteful idea crossed me, and in my panic I initiated it. I slid my feet beneath the hem of his tunic and scraped his underclothes down with my toes. I began harshly grinding up against him, growling furiously with every thrust. I felt Cares's cock flag and poke me in the asshole through my cropped pants. "Hss!" came Cares's shocked gasp in my ear before he lost his balance. He crashed onto his back, and I went with him. His cock had lodged itself between my ass cheeks during the fall and bumped me lengthwise at the impact. I could feel his woken member twitching greedily, and the vibrating sensations were making me hard despite the muscle relaxant he had forced in my veins. "You.." Cares panted in disbelief. "That's.. what you wanted... isn't.. it?" I sneered as the paralysis took full control over my body. "You devil!" Cares exclaimed breathlessly as he shoved me off of him. I managed to flop my head in his direction. He was crawling away from me backwards, his sleek blonde hair a tousled mess and his upset eyebrows furrowed into a hard glare. There was a white, sticky stain on the front of his tunic where he had released his seed all over himself. He stared down at the excretions with an obvious look of humiliation. A corner of my mouth turned up but soon lowered. I had done something savage to the man, and I had meant to. He straightened his rumbled collar and cleared the frog from his throat. His virid green eyes hooded lazily and his handsome face became a composed but doleful mask. "Well, Klarsi. It seems we've bested each other this duel." I felt like a stinking sack of shit. My face must have showed it, because he sent me a faint smile. "If you liked me that much, you should have told me sooner." He changed his tunic while I lay there pathetically with my muscles twitching in obstinate attempts to move. I heard him kneel closely beside me after he was refreshed. He began digging around in his bag and mixing medicines together. I listened to the lullaby of him gently tapping the herb powders out and crushing them into a bowl. He ran his hand idly over my shoulder to signal his readiness. I shivered expectantly. He removed my belt first. I watched as his hands came close to my shrunken crotch. My erection had died quickly from what he had doped me on. He smoothed his hand over my chest to reassure me that he meant no harm as he unclasped my belt and slipped it off me. I watched his beautiful, anxious face as he worked. His eyes were sad and lonely, like the quietest reach of a forest. "The paralysis will last until morning. You will be able to sleep easily if you allow yourself to relax." He carefully pulled me out of my tunic one arm at a time and folded the garment up into a neat pile. He gripped the waistband of my cropped pants and pushed it low so he could unwrap my bandaged hip. My bush of jet black groin hair trickled into view. He used a thin blade of his own to saw through the bandages. "I'm... sorry." I whispered. He gave my head a tender pat. His touch lingered. He bent so that his face was hanging over my own, and his shoulder length hair flowed into a golden frame around his eyes. His lips brushed me softly on the forehead. My skin tingled under his warm breath. "Even?" "What... ever." He pushed aside the loosened bandages with a much more tranquil countenance, but when he saw my wound, he took in a surprised breath and tilted his head to one side. My eyes strained to see what he was. He pressed his fingers up against the pink, sore flesh of my hip. The wound had closed up almost completely. "The curse wore off." Cares revealed in bewilderment.