Kings and Sirens (The Blood Falls Book 2)
Kings and Sirens: Chapter 5

Atsila

As the future King and member of the party that traveled to the House of Wren, I was allowed to attend the meeting between Leena and the Queen. Our current King, Hex, also attended. We were the only two males.

While I listened to Leena and Lyla’s conversation, I mostly focused on Hex. How long would he last? Could I get him to retain the kingship until another future King was identified? I would never shirk my duty to my people, but if I could avoid it, I would.

Hex was a good King. He served our people with great leadership and training. He was a firm commander. I wouldn’t be like him and I didn’t know how the Heida would respond to a drastic change like that.

“But how do you know you’re stronger in isolation than if you bred more Houses into your bloodlines?” Leena asked. It was remarkable how she could ask such a volatile question with such innocence. How she could make it sound academic instead of accusatory. Or maybe that’s just how we’d been trained to hear it.

She sat to the left of Lyla, wearing a variation of the clothing I’d seen her wear in the outside world. Instead of jeans she wore a skirt. For the briefest of moments my mind pictured shoving my hands up that skirt. It was still an outsider skirt, but more in keeping with the Heida wardrobe. She also wore an off-the-shoulder blouse with lace and tiny buttons that I thought perhaps Lyla had given her. Again, my mind envisioned the process of ripping the buttons open and baring her breasts to me. Instead of her hair simply being down or in a bun, she had two braids pulling it away from her face and intertwining at the nape. Easy for grabbing onto with one hand.

I may not want to be with Leena, but my mind insisted on cataloguing all the ways we could mate, nonetheless.

“Let’s not get off topic,” Queen Lyla chided. “You want to visit the archives?”

I perked up because I’d obviously missed some crucial conversation.

“If that’s the best place to start, then yes,” Leena said.

Lyla smiled serenely. I knew that trick. She always did that right before stuffing a frog down my pants or placing a spider on Daisy’s neck. “No one here keeps the bedtime stories of the monsters and the Ancient War. If you want information you’ll have to try the archives. I doubt there’s anything there, but if there is, that’s where it will be.”

“And do you have an archivist I can work with? A historian?”

The smile became a fixture. “We do not. But the archives are yours to visit without restriction.”

Leena frowned, but only for a fraction of a fraction of a second. I only caught it because I knew her tells. Her face gave her away, but she knew it did and had wired a protocol into her brain to stop it. Therefore she frowned because that’s what she was thinking and feeling, but then erased it so no one would see it.

But I did.

I hated that I did.

“Atsila will show you where they are.”

I jerked to attention. “It would be my honor.”

She nodded once. “Now, I think that covers it for today.”

“But we haven’t agreed to anything,” Leena protested.

And we wouldn’t. Regardless of whether Lyla knew there were changes coming, she wouldn’t agree to anything until there was imminent danger. Maybe not even then. Her loyalty was to the House, not the entirety of the Samhain.

“There is nothing to agree to. You’ve brought the information to us and we will consider how we can prepare for something that may or may not happen.”

“I don’t think you fully understand—”

Lyla put her hand up. “I understand completely. You’ve been through a stressful period; you’ve seen some odd things. The Plane is changing. We can all agree on that. What we do not know is that some ancient war is returning to be fought again. Something we only know from fairytales. I will take everything you fear into consideration and study it for myself. We will make preparations or not based on whether I can verify anything you’ve said. For now, do your research or not. Stay and enjoy Midnight Dreams or leave. Your duty has been fulfilled.”

With a wave of her hand the meeting dismissed. The room buzzed with low voices all discussing the events that had just transpired. Some sounded completely incredulous, others curious. I expected the rumors to spread through the festival by end of day.

Leena tried speaking with Lyla but got nowhere. That’s when she stomped over to me.

“I told you.”

She fumed. “I know.”

“Give it time. Lyla’s not unreasonable.”

She stewed for several moments before sighing. “You’ll show me these archives?”

I nodded once. “We have a bit of time now or we can wait until after the excursion.”

“Now.” She bolted for the door even though she had no idea where she was going. It was something I enjoyed about her personality. Completely willing to take the lead even when she wasn’t sure where the next step led.

Once we stepped into the sunlight I held out my hand, indicating we should take the path to the left. She stomped a few feet and then slowed so that we could walk side-by-side. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not used to being dismissed.”

“I’m not offended.”

She cringed. “Is Lyla?”

“I highly doubt it.” I clasped my hands behind my back so I wouldn’t accidentally brush hers as we walked. The weather was crisp and clear, making it a beautiful day to be out of doors. I was almost pleased my brothers suggested the excursion to show Leena the forest.

Almost.

“Do you have all your meetings here? Or are there other places?”

I glanced around at the paths and temporary tents. It was all so very different from the House of Wren and their permanent treehouses and cabins. But not entirely different from Blood Falls.

“This is our home base. We always come back here for meetings and festivals. That’s why the paths are worn in.”

“And the tents? You travel with them?”

“Yes and no.” The tents were large with multiple rooms, real rugs, and furniture. Some still traveled with everything, most did not. “We have storage where most of us keep our tents and furniture. It’s kind of like a human summer camp, I suppose. Used regularly but temporary.”

“Like Blood Falls,” she murmured. “Only we return to our Houses instead of camping on site.”

“Exactly.”

“How far is your home?” She kicked a rock and it skipped into the ferns. A bird took flight.

“About fifty miles from here. Due west near the northern border.”

“What’s it like?”

“Small.”

She snort-laughed. “I have a feeling that term is relative.”

“You have a point. It’s small for me. Maybe not for you.”

“Let me guess. One room. One bed, one table, one chair, and a fireplace.”

It pained me how easily she could picture my life. “Two rooms, actually. And you forgot the windows. There’s four of them.”

She laughed. It was a beautiful sound that made me feel lighter. “I can’t believe you allow light into your home.”

I wanted to show it to her, prove that I wasn’t as predictable as she thought. “The archives are just down here.” The path curved off to the right, down the hill to a cave. At the entrance I lit a torch then led us into the cool darkness. One hundred yards deep we came to the locked door. I handed her the torch.

“Hidden in a cave. I like it.” She moved the torch along the walls. “No cave art. Sad.”

I grunted. “Give me a minute.” I keyed in the combination, hearing the tumblers fall into place, then pulled it apart, swinging the heavy door open. I took back the torch and lit the ones mounted into the walls inside. As they flared to life our ancient art appeared under the dancing lights.

“Oh,” she murmured. “It’s beautiful.”

“Humans confuse our art with theirs but it’s okay. Let them have it. We know the difference.”

She followed me in silence for several minutes. “No archivist, no historian, but pride in cave art? The Heida confuse me.”

“It’s not our way—to look back, I mean. We live in the present and plan for the future. The past is the past.”

“Then why keep the archives? Why take pride in the art?”

“Because,” I stepped into the vast three-story cavern lined in shelves, bookcases, and storage trunks, lighting more torches, “some of us care about the past.”

She shivered, ran her hands over her arms, and looked up. “There’s so much here”

“Might take you a while to replace what you’re looking for.”

She shivered again. “I’ll come with a sweater next time. So you keep the archives for sentimental reasons.”

It was hard to explain to an outsider. “It’s not practical to spend too much time looking back. However,” I held up my finger when she started to speak. Again. “However, there is value in learning from the past. So we keep it for when we need it, but we don’t spend more time here than necessary.”

“When was the last time it was necessary.” She ran her fingers along the spines of several books and pulled one free, flipping through the pages. Her focus was on the book instead of me, so she didn’t see my reaction.

My dread.

The last time was when they attacked. It. I could tell her about them now. Get the shock and explanation out of the way, send her back home. But then she looked up with those big, beautiful eyes and pursed, full lips, and I wanted her. So I forgot to explain.

“You know your way around,” Leena murmured as she reached for a book just beyond her grasp.

She could ask for my help. I’m not entirely sure why she didn’t. Instead I watched her strain, her blouse lifting to reveal skin, her calves flexing. That skirt would bunch around her hips so easily…

“Why is that?” she asked, finally slipping the book free.

I blinked away from my fantasy. “I’ve done my own research off and on over the years.” After the attack.

“And what have you learned?” She flipped through the pages, grunted, then replaced the book and moved over to a different set of shelves that were older.

I helped her blow dust away, wiping the rest away with a cloth. “As our queens change, we change. Some have been stricter, others more lenient. Sometimes our House focused exclusively on resources. Recently we’ve worked on our cultural and social structures.”

She looked me up and down. “The festivals?”

“And mating rituals, food sharing, defensive strategies, family groups.”

She hummed in the back of her throat. “I haven’t seen anyone drinking.”

She meant blood. I only knew that because of my time in the outside. “It’s a…private act for us.”

She snapped the book shut and set it on the table. “You mean to tell me that you’ll watch three people fuck in the middle of town but drinking is done behind closed doors. Or curtains.”

I stepped closer to her even though I shouldn’t. “It was a shock for me to see how freely you all drink from each other. For us,” I picked up her wrist and ran my finger over her veins, “it’s an ultimate act of intimacy.” My mouth watered at the idea of drinking from Leena now. Alone in this cool, remote place where no one would see us.

Her breath was shallow and quick. A definite sign she was aroused. “More intimate than sex?”

I shrugged, pressed my thumb into her skin at the exact place I wanted to suck her into my mouth. “I guess so.”

She licked her lips. Her fangs glinted in the torchlight. She wanted me too. “That’s…interesting.”

Her bottom pressed into the desk behind her and I reached for her skirt, pushing the fabric up the way I’d been imagining all day. “We could fuck right here. You on the desk, me buried inside you. It would feel good. But taking my blood into your body? Now that’s intimacy.” I massaged her thigh as she panted.

“But you won’t, will you? Even if I said yes, even if I jumped you right now, you’d refuse me.”

I held onto her wrist and thigh, debating whether I had the strength to say no again. Probably. Maybe. My dick ached as it strained toward her. It wanted to ignore my promise and take her as mine. “I made a promise. After the attack when I was named future king.”

“A promise?” she panted. Her eyes were big and wide, her full lips parted, her breasts heaving against her shirt. I could have her.

I could have her. Just once.

“I will only mate with a Heida.” I lied a little. Technically I promised not to marry anyone but a member of my House. To keep our blood pure against our enemies. But as I already established with my brothers, I had no control when it came to Leena, so mating and marriage were one and the same.

“That’s an awfully big promise.” Her fingers clutched at the edge of the table turning her knuckles white.

“It’s necessary. And as future king, I will keep my promise.”

She moaned a little in the back of her throat. Frustration? Or need? Did it matter? “No one else is here,” she whispered. “No one would know.”

“I would know.”

“Why does it matter so much?”

I pushed her skirt higher, felt some of her heat. My dick throbbed. “Strength. Power.”

She laughed, dark and needy. “You think strength comes from purity? No. It comes from variety. It’s why samhain must drink from each other. Without our bonds, we die alone.”

That was the story they told themselves. We had a different one here in the North. “It dilutes our blood. To mix with the other Houses is a mistake. We are as pure as Heida can be without going insane. It makes us unstoppable.”

She pulled at my pants, running her fingers over the tip of my erection. I hissed at the pleasure and shock of it. “It makes you weak. Hiding up here all alone. Can’t you imagine how powerful you’d be with more abilities?”

“You benefit from it. Not everyone does.” Leena was Wren and Gatlin. She had the ability to shift like her Wren family, but her Gatlin blood gave her powerful psychic abilities too. To her the mixing of blood probably seemed like a great idea.

But to us it was death.

Not physically, but the end of us as the House of Heida. Our isolation and pure blood were part of our identity. We only introduced outsiders when our blood began to weaken.

Her fingers glided down my length. “But how can you be so sure? Is it really worth it? To be oh, so strict you can’t even have a good tumble with someone like me?”

A tumble becomes a tangle. “Others can. There are several mates here from other bloodlines.”

“But not you?” She formed a fist around me and lightly pumped. My pants were in the way but she ignored them. “Not the future king? You must set an example?”

I gripped her thigh tighter than I probably should. I wanted to lick her wrist and seal the deal. Drink her blood while pumping furiously into her wet pussy. I wanted to roar in satisfaction when I was done. “I must. Yes.”

Her blouse fell further down her shoulder and I got a peek at the soft flesh beneath. “You know what I think?” As her hand moved up and down, the blouse fell further and further. I caught sight of her nipple and almost came. “I think you’re wrong and you know you’re wrong. I think you want me as much as I want you. Sex can just be sex, Atsila.”

“Not with you.”

Her eyes widened with surprise. “So I’m the problem?”

Her hand was truth serum. I should make her stop. I should step away. I couldn’t. “Yes.”

Then her eyes sparkled. “I do love a challenge.” She released me. My dick pulsed and ached. She righted her blouse. “You’ll take me. And soon. But you’ll do it because you want to.”

I groaned, leaning over the table she walked away from. Evil, evil woman leaving me like this. But it was better this way.