Blood Lust

 

Vetluna, 550 BCE

I hate the slave markets. They smell bad and there is a palpable sense of despair clouding the pens. Shouts from overseers overwhelm the cries of the damned, yet I sit on the ground in silence with my knees drawn to my chest, waiting for my turn on the block.

Only the rich can afford a dancing girl and I have few talents that would make me useful in a poorer household.

In the hope some kind god will heed the prayer of a slave, I draw a flower in the dust at my feet. It is the only offering I can give to accompany my plea. I’m not getting any younger, and with no skills, my chances of finding a good home decrease by the day.

My breath eases from my chest when an overseer pulls me to my feet. He is not cruel, but he has little time for nonsense. He pushes me forward, and I mount the block, hoping I can dance for my life one last time. I pray someone will want me despite my age. Someone who will save me from the brothels or worse…

“Dance.” The overseer’s sharp order gets me moving. I sway, undulating, doing my best to look younger and more attractive than I am, seductive and sweet, not desperate and afraid.

Two men, their eyes shining even in the dim light of dusk, catch my gaze and I nearly stumble. They stand apart from everyone else, their clothing and posture declaring them to be wealthy and powerful. There is something in the way they look at me, lust, yet not, but I don’t know how to read their expressions. One is very tall and has hair almost as light as mine. The other is darker-skinned with rich sable hair. He is a few inches shorter than his companion, but no less imposing.

A drumbeat starts, the percussion urging me into movement. Like a trained animal, I dance in response. It is what I was born and bred to do.

To my surprise, the dark-haired one raises his hand to bid on me.

Drawing my hands up my body, flipping my hair out and around, I hear a murmur through the crowd as my dance changes. The interest of the men, their keen gazes, sparks something inside me. I’m no longer dancing to be bought. I dance for them––only them, begging with my body that they outbid the others who raise their hands.

The dry stench of the slave pens fades, along with the barked calls of bidders, until there is no sound but the drum filling the evening like the heartbeat of a god. I dance to the rhythm, teasing, beckoning them to come to me. I smell the perfume of flowers and fragrant herbs on the breeze, yet it is mixed with something musky and wild.

I do not understand what it is about them that draws me. It is not their looks, although they are both handsome. From glimpses of them as I dance, I’m not imagining the connection between us. It is too potent… too intoxicatingly real. I even feel burgeoning desire for them. It is new and heady like the finest wine.

When they make their final bid, all the other bidders drop their hands and jealous scowls take the place of avarice and desire. I drop to my knees in relief, shaking slightly, wondering what had come over me. I have never danced with such willing abandon, yet it might have saved my life.

The overseer smiles at me, then gently helps me to my feet. He is delighted with my performance, as well he should be. I have never seen a dancer command such a high price. He presents me to the two men, and coin exchanges hands. With a surreptitious fingertip, I draw a flower on my thigh in thanks for avoiding the fate I had been sure was coming.

“What is her name?” the light-haired man asks.

The overseer looks confused for a moment. “Does it matter?”

Neither man answers him and he grunts, then pushes me forward. “Tell them your name.”

“Lyssa,” I whisper.

The ethereal connection, as though our fates were intertwined, seems to pull me toward them. It is a dreamy notion and I try to push it away. They refuse the chains the overseer offers, but I have no desire to escape anyway. Aside from the tether binding us, there’s nowhere for me to go. I am content to follow them to my new home.

Their house is gloriously beautiful, with tiled mosaic walls depicting the gods at their feasts. Sumptuous cushions cover the floor, inviting touch and relaxation, and the sweet fragrance of flowers fills the air.

Strangely, there are no other slaves. Such wealthy men should have many, but I know better than to question them. Perhaps they’ve sent their other slaves and servants away to attend to their new dancing girl. A shiver of apprehension slides down my spine.

“I am Calmarus,” the fair one says, giving me a lovely chiton made of the softest wool I ever felt. It is much too fine for a slave, but I bite my lip against a protest when he gives me a dark look that dares me to contradict his choice of clothing for me. He gestures at the other man. “That is Amedus.”

“What should I call you, Masters?” I ask, unsure if they mean for me to use their names. I do not think I have the courage even if they give permission.

“Master Calmarus and Master Amedus when we’re both present,” says Master Amedus. They look at me, studying me as if they are memorizing me. Being observed so closely is unnerving. “Just Master when there is only one of us. Now dress, my lovely.”

I blush at the compliment.

Master Amedus helps me with the clasp at my shoulder, and the decadently soft wool caresses my body as it falls to my ankles. They feed me delicacies fit for nobles—ripe olives without blemish, plump figs drizzled with honey, and bits of suckling pig I lick from their fingers. The feast makes me think I’ve died and gone to my reward in the afterlife.

“Have some wine, Lyssa,” Calmarus says, his eyes gleaming. His blond hair falls nearly to his waist in a golden curtain. He lounges indolently, his red-dyed chiton riding up to reveal muscular thighs. Leaning forward, he lifts his cup to my lips, grinning at Amedus when I drink. The taste is sweet and heady, and the intoxicating aroma of sun-warmed fields of grapes fills my head. I am astonished they would waste such a fine vintage on me.

They both smile at me and Amedus traces my jaw with a gentle fingertip. “You are so lovely, Lyssa. I am delighted we won you.”

Amedus is also fair to look upon. Tall and wiry, he wears his hair in a midnight tail that reaches the middle of his back. The lines of his face and body are sharper, more angular than Calmarus’ bulk, reminding me of a lean hound, alert and ready for the hunt.

I do not remember the last time I heard a compliment directed at me and my face heats. Uncomfortable, I fall back on my training. “Shall I dance, Masters?”

His dark eyes meeting mine, Calmarus smirks and claps his hands together. Amedus picks up the rhythm, stomping his feet in counterpoint. It is not the sort of music I am used to, but the beat is compelling, as are their expressions of pleasure when they look upon me.

I remove the clip holding my new chiton in place and set it aside carefully, enjoying their looks of desire as I let my hips sway to their music. Lifting my arms above my head, my sheer undergarment swirls around as I spin with abandon.

I have danced many times, simply focusing on the music so I do not hear the crowds cataloguing me like livestock. This time, my attention stays on my new owners. I want nothing more than to please them. The desperation with which I danced on the block is gone. Instead, I dance for sheer enjoyment and for the pleasure it brings my new masters.

Amedus catches me as I whirl past him, pulling me onto his lap. Even though I am much too forward, I rest my head on his shoulder and try to catch my breath. To my surprise, he strokes my hair instead of knocking me to the floor for my presumptuous behavior. Calmarus pets my back, his strong fingers easing lines of tension in my spine.

“That was gorgeous, Lyssa. Thank you,” Amedus says.

I blink and lift my head from Amedus’s shoulder. “You need not thank a slave, Master. It is my duty to please you.”

He traces a finger down my nose and kisses me, his tongue seeking entry into my mouth. I like it, even though kissing is strange to me. Calmarus tastes like spice and wine and his scent clouds my mind with want.

Truly, they both do. What an astonishing thing it is to desire my masters. No one has ever kissed me this way before and I decide to make sure I never displease them. I want to stay with them in this beautiful house with for as long as they allow it. If I make them happy, they might someday give me freedom, or at least care for me when I become too old to give them pleasure.

“You have the loveliest hair,” Amedus murmurs. “It is like silk and is the color of the sun at midday.”

“And eyes like the sky,” Calmarus replied, a hungry look growing in his black eyes. “You will be our Orisa, our sunrise.”

“You did not ask her if she wanted a new name,” Amedus says. They frown at each other, matching scowls that make my belly clench with nerves.

“I like Orisa,” I say, hoping to keep my masters in a cheery mood.

“No,” Calmarus says. “Amedus is right. We’re being fanciful. Keep the name you were given at birth.”

I was called Quinque until I was sold away from my mother because I was her fifth child. Lyssa was the name given to me by my first master and I have no fond memories of that time or the name. I yearn to start anew and have something only the three of us share.

“I was born a slave, Master. I wasn’t given a birth name.” I lower my face into his chest. “I want to keep Orisa. I like it much better than Lyssa.”

“See, Amedus? You always make things too complicated.” Calmarus nuzzles my neck and I yelp at the sharp sting followed by a strange feeling of dizziness. Other masters have set their teeth to me, but never has it felt like this––so good.

“Shh, Orisa. All will be well,” he murmurs, his tongue sliding over my neck, his lips kissing the spot where he must have bitten me.

Warmth fills my body and my core grows wet with arousal. I’ve never once been aroused by my previous masters and had always relied on my own spit to ease the passage of their cocks into my body. That would not be necessary with my new masters.

I feel another sting on the other side of my neck and relax into the amazing sensation suffusing me. Never have I felt anything so wonderful, and despite the scant moment of pain, I want more.

They pull away from me and I nearly weep at the distance, but I know better than to demand their attention.

Amedus growls and wraps his hand around Calmarus’ neck, pulling him into a kiss. Trickles of red stream from their mouths as they devour each other. I am fascinated and yet confused. If they have each other, why do they need me? But they paid for me, so they must want me.

Seeing them kiss, the roughness of Amadus’ hold on Calmarus makes me want to watch them love each other, and I want them to love me. I kneel at their feet, pushing the fabric of their chitons aside as I take their hardening cocks in my hands. The simple act of choosing to do so makes it that much more erotic for me and my sex slickens with excitement. Their combined scents of citrusy sandalwood make me drool and I stare up at their faces as I stroke them.

They groan in pleasure, matched sounds that make me even more needy. I take Amedus’s thick cock into my mouth, sucking the crown like a sweet as I fondle Calmarus, squeezing his hard member to remind him of my continued attention. After a moment, I move to suck him, using my hand to stimulate Amedus.

I am not a trained courtesan and this is all so new. Although my former masters made use of my body, it had been perfunctory and hurried. Until now, I never understood why the courtesans always looked so happy. Thankfully I watched them work often enough to know some of their tricks and I am sure I can please my new masters. I am rewarded when they cry out, thrusting their hips forward, Amedus into my hand and Calmarus into my mouth.

Above me, they kiss again and my heart beats faster at the naked emotion on their faces.

My neck itches and I feel something wet sliding down my skin, yet I am too intent on my masters to pay any heed to the discomfort, especially when they end their kiss and look down at me, eyes hot with desire. In that moment, I know I would do anything for them—either of them.

Amedus cups the back of my head in his large palm and gently pushes me down to take more of Calmarus’ cock into my mouth. “You look beautiful with your mouth full of my lover, Orisa, but I think I am jealous.”

I stiffen, wondering if I should move, but he holds me still as he kneels next to me. To my surprise, he joins me, licking Calmarus’ hard staff as I suck the crown. Taking my hand, he places it on Calmarus’ velvety balls, squeezing his fingers around mine as Calmarus hisses in pleasure.

My vision blurred by the flickering light of the fire, I look up into Calmarus’ straining face and gasp, nearly choking myself on the sweet fluid dribbling from his cock. His teeth are bared, revealing unusually long canines. I blink and the vision is gone.

“I think we are being selfish, Amedus,” Calmarus says, his voice rough with need. “We should tend to our lovely new pet.”

Amedus pulls me away and lays me down on soft cushions. I stare up into the faces of my owners, dreamily wondering if they’ll give me pleasure. They already have though. A comfortable house, food, and the absence of a whip-bearing overseer are more than any slave deserves.

“Straddle her face and give her pleasure with that delicious tongue,” Calmarus orders.

Amedus obeys, placing his knees on either side of my head. His turgid member hangs low as he leans over me and I take it into my mouth, suckling until he growls and buries his face between my legs.

His tongue against my sex makes me cry out. I never imagined anything could feel so wonderful. His cock fills my mouth, but I am much too distracted by what he’s doing with his tongue. He nips my thigh with a stinging bite to remind me of my duty. It is far less duty and more a delight to serve him and I silently thank him for the gentle reminder.

He suckles at my thigh, his lips and teeth pulling and tugging almost painfully. Yet it feels strangely good, almost as wonderful as his long fingers teasing the sensitive bud at the top of my sex.

The wine must have been stronger than I’d thought. I feel almost cherished when Calmarus kneels above me and strokes my hair. His face dark with passion, he traces my cheek with the head of his wet cock. I smell the sweet scent of oil as it glistens on his skin, making him shimmer like he was coated in gold.

Still gazing into my eyes, he says, “Open him for me, pet.”

I don’t understand at first, but with a soft smile, Calmarus positions my hands on Amedus’s bottom and helps me spread the muscular globes of his buttocks apart.

My core spasms when he pushes his hard shaft deep into Amedus. I feel the rumble of Amedus’s moan against my tender sex as he pushes back against Calmarus.

The sweet scent of oil and male sweat consumes my senses and I buck my hips against Amedus’s mouth, desperate for more. He surges into my mouth, his cock nearly blocking my air as I struggle to take it all without choking.

When he nips my clit, I explode, crying out as he suckles that sensitive bundle of nerves. The bite he gave me aches, sending another pulse of need through my body as Calmarus thrusts into him above me.

My heart beats furiously within my chest and my womb tightens. I don’t know what’s happening and it frightens me for a scant moment before the unbearable tension snaps and I see stars whirling before my eyes. The gods couldn’t have intended a mere slave to feel such abandoned delight. I silently thank them, promising my most devout piety for such a gift.

Calmarus shouts out a gleeful curse and grips Amedus’ hips harder, then thrusts against him and groans his completion. His softening cock slides free and drips seed on my lips as I make love to Amedus with my mouth. Settling to the floor, he licks the sweet essence from my lips, then pulls Amedus’s balls into his mouth. I dig my fingers into Amedus’s firm bottom, pulling him close as he laves my quivering sex with his tongue.

His cock swells, leaking salty sweet liquid into my mouth, sweeter even than the wine they gave me, and more delectable than honey. Spurts of his delicious cum trickle down my throat and I suck greedily for more, ignoring his hissed pleasure as I hold him to me.

Amedus pulls away and I whimper at the loss. With a soft laugh, he lies next to me and pulls me into his arms for a kiss. I taste myself on his lips, salty and musky, but delicious.

Calmarus lies behind me, spooning my body between them as he nuzzles at my neck. There is a pinch of pain as he bites down on the tender skin of my throat, but I am too filled with bliss to bother crying out. 

After a few moments, he pulls away, licking the sore spot with soothing touches of his tongue.

“You will be our most cherished possession, pet, and you will want for nothing.”

***

Calmarus and Amedus treat me like a free woman, indulging my every whim even when they are unspoken. Anything I look at with desire becomes mine, almost as though they can read my mind. They are a strange pair, sometimes I cannot tell if it is love and affection that binds them or hate and animalistic greed. I don’t like it when they fight and often try to calm them when I hear one brewing. More than once, my dancing has turned their anger at each other into lust, which they slake on my willing body. Often it seems as though Amedus is the leader, with Calmarus following, and when Calmarus goes his own way, they end up arguing.

I think it would help if they had some company other than me and each other, but they do not seek out friendships. I quickly realize most of the people in the nearby town find them strange and possibly even frightening. They have enemies and I am not allowed to visit the town unaccompanied. We only ever go just before dark on a cloudy day or even after the sun has fallen. My masters seem to abhor the sun, but I love to bask in its radiance.

While I feel safer when they are awake, I cannot sleep the day away and stay up all night as they do. There are too many things to do which require daylight, and those are all my responsibility. Aside from cooking and cleaning, I must also tend our small garden, along with my cherished beehives.

Carrying my basket full of clothing on my hip, I approach the house and sigh when I hear raised voices. My masters are up and arguing again. Their shouts carry and I often overhear things I do not understand, but I never ask questions. It is not my place, no matter how curious I am about their conversations.

“You are pushing Barien too far,” Calmarus snarls, and I hear something slam onto wood, likely the table. Wincing, I wonder if their argument is too far gone for me to intervene. “One of these days he will come for us, then where will we be? We should leave.”

“Oh, but that would suit your plans,” Amedus responds, a sneer in his voice. “I am sure you have a suggestion of where we could go… a place where you can sit like a spider in his web and control everything, know everything.”

“Knowledge is what will keep us safe. We need to leave anyway, already people are noticing our age.”

I know immediately what he means, as neither man has aged in any of the time we’ve been together. It is one of the many mysteries about them.

“We are not leaving yet,” Amedus says roughly. “I still have more to do.”

Calmarus snorts. “More stealing. Thievery.”

I hurry to the door, already knowing where this will lead if I do not interrupt them.

“My apologies,” Amedus responds, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “I thought you enjoyed having money to spend. Thievery from thieves is not truly theft.”

Pushing open the door, I smile widely, pretending I have not heard their conversation. “I am back! What would you like for dinner?”

My presence breaks up their argument and they immediately focus on me instead of each other, and once again, the peace is restored.

***

It is nearly sunset. They will wake soon, but I cannot wait for the sun to set. Calmarus is on his back, a muscled arm tossed over his head. He is so fair, and so gloriously beautiful, he looks like a god.

I cut short my thought. The gods can be jealous and I do not want to raise their ire. Despite my piety and obeisance, the gods have not seen fit to answer my prayers for amity between my masters. I will not stop trying though. I resolve to double my efforts the next time they allow me to visit the temple.

Amedus has me pulled close, holding me in a tight grip. I ease my way free and stroke his chest, tracing my hands down his muscular body. My masters are both perfect and I lack the words to say how much I adore them.

Getting to my knees between them, I fondle their cocks, relishing their succulent flesh. They are already hard for me and I pray my avid attention will make them less prone to argument. They must notice it makes me uncomfortable, yet neither tries to stop. Even though they have given me everything I could ever desire, I am not brave enough to ask them.

My wrinkled, work-worn hands look profane on their pristine flesh. They are as beautiful as ever, yet time has not been so kind to me. I close my eyes, trying to hold back my tears. Perhaps if I was younger, I would be better at pleasing them and they would fight less.

Calmarus opens his eyes and frowns. I am always astonished by how quickly he wakes.

“Why are you crying, Orisa?” he asks.

Behind me, Amedus stirs and rolls over, tightening his arms around me. “Has someone harmed you?”

“No. I am well,” I reply. “I just… Will you take another slave soon?”

The question hangs between us like a specter and I want to take it back. Yet I cannot. Every year brings me closer to the point where they will no longer want me. Although I dread the day, I want them to be happy. If another slave will make them cease their bickering, I will welcome him or her gladly.

“No,” Amedus says, pulling me down until I am nestled between them. “We do not want another slave. You are more than enough for us.”

I try to bite back the sob climbing up my throat. “I am old, masters. Already, people question my presence in your household, and I cannot dance enough to…”

I turn my head to the side, unwilling to let them see my shame. “You fight all the time because I am too old to please you.”

They look at each other and Calmarus strokes Amedus’s bearded jaw. My heart soars when Amedus leans into his touch.

“No,” Calmarus says. “You are as lovely as ever, dear Orisa. We will cherish you forever.”

He leans down and kisses me, his lips gentle on mine. Amedus joins in our tender kiss, sharing one with Calmarus as well. Amedus strokes my body, seeming not to care I no longer claim the taut flesh of youth. I crave their touch.

Amedus rises above us and runs his hand through Calmarus’ hair. It is a loving gesture I thought I would never see again, and it makes me want them even more. They share a kiss above me, and the musky fragrance of their desire thickens, perfuming the air with our love. Their scent enthralls me, muddying my thoughts until there is nothing but the three of us.

“Sit on his face,” Amedus whispers. “Let him give you pleasure.”

Calmarus helps him position me, my thighs spread wide around his head. I expect him to devour my sex, and I let out a sharp cry of pleasure when he grips my buttocks and spreads me wide, then swirls his tongue around my dark rosebud. He pushes his tongue inside me, fucking my ass. I moan and clench around him, making him tighten his hands on my hips.

Amedus lowers his head to my pussy, his mobile lips and tongue seeking out the place at the top of my sex that would give me the most pleasure.

“Please,” I gasp, unable to draw enough air for another word.

When Amedus pushes two fingers into my core, I explode, too overwhelmed by their attention. I know I should wait—they love to hear me beg for pleasure—yet I cannot.

“Naughty girl,” Amedus mutters. “I suppose we will have to punish you.”

I’m never afraid when he says that. My masters’ idea of punishment is not at all unpleasant. They reposition me until I straddle Calmarus’ hips, and I close my eyes when Amedus grabs his thick cock and positions it at my entrance. I sink down, relishing the burning stretch of Calmarus’ penetration.

“Yes, Orisa, our good girl,” Calmarus says. He looks up at me, a smile on his face. I want to cry out with joy, knowing I’ve pleased them. I lower myself to rest atop his strong body, accepting the drugging kiss he offers.

I feel like I have had too much wine, yet it is not an unfamiliar sensation, and I love the warm well-being their affections bring. I relax atop Calmarus as he spreads my buttocks for Amedus and shiver at the warm oil Amedus trickles over my exposed sex.

Amedus eases his way inside me, slowly and ever so gently until I feel like I might scream. I feel full to the brim with love for them, and barely notice when Calmarus nips the left side of my throat. The faint sting vanishes when they rock into me, their cocks sliding in and out in a rhythm that makes my vision blur.

Heat fills my body when Amedus bites the other side of my neck. I feel the pull of them sucking and the sudden euphoria that always accompanies their bites. As always, their lovemaking makes me push down my curiosity about their need to taste my blood. I will give it gladly to make them happy.

Calmarus thickens inside me, his harsh breathing heralding the storm of his passion. I clench down on him, drawing Amedus into the web of pleasure. I love feeling them both slide in and out of me. He reaches between our bodies and pinches that sensitive nub above my sex.

“Master!”

I do not know which of them I mean to address. When we come together like this, we are as one. My womb tightens and the storm of our passion breaks over us. They bathe my channels with their hot seed, their mouths still fixed firmly on my neck. My vision darkens with the need for sleep. Although I try to fight it, I cannot stop the warm oblivion.

I wake some time later. The sky is black outside our window and I can’t begin to guess the time. I always sleep after they taste my blood, for a full day at times. My head feels thick and sleepy and I roll over, expecting them to be with me, but I find the bedding cold and empty. I hear whispered voices nearby, the words jumbled and unclear.

“…it has to be soon. We cannot…” Calmarus says.

“It is too risky,” Amedus replies. “You almost… Besides, you have attracted too much attention from Barien for a newborn. She will be vulnerable until…”

I hear a low growl and shut my eyes. They are fighting again, yet I do not understand what Amedus meant by his words. Despite my wishes, I have never managed to bless them with a child. I want to cry again, but I do not have the strength. As much as I love their attention and the closeness we share, their bites leave me exhausted.

“Fine,” Calmarus says. “If you agree, we will move.”

I am out of sorts and tired when I finally wake and my masters are deeply asleep in bed. Although I wish I could join them, there is work to be done.

It takes me all day to complete my chores, but our house gleams by the time I finish. Unease fills me, though I do not know why, and I wish it was closer to sundown. I miss my masters, even though they will wake in a few hours. I peer into our larder, wondering what I should make for our evening meal.

They claim to enjoy everything I make for them and never have a preference, but I always ask. Mealtime passes as if in a dream, the way it often does. We only ever eat the one meal together. The rest of the time they eat on their own, usually after I am abed, although I do not know what.

I pull out a wheel of hard cheese and a loaf of bread. I am too agitated to cook, and I do not feel hungry at all. As I set the cheese on the board to slice, I hear many footsteps outside. Straightening my chiton, I go out to meet our guests.

Half a dozen armed men trample my garden. I consider protesting, but I am a mere slave. Instead, I bow and say, “Welcome. How can I serve you?”

“Where are your masters?” a tall man in a boiled leather helmet asks. A thick scar crosses his left cheek, pulling his face into a permanent scowl. He frightens me, though I try not to show it.

“They are asleep, sir. May I tell them you visited?”

The right side of his face quirks up into a grin. The absence of expression on the left makes me shiver. I feel as if I was looking at someone with two separate faces.

“Oh, you will tell them without words I think.” He gestures at the men behind him and they grab me with bruising hands before I can escape.

“Over there,” he says, pointing at the wooden fence surrounding our garden. “Make sure they see our message when they wake up.”

“Calmarus, help me!” I scream, knowing they will not wake. I have never questioned their sleeping habits. My lack of curiosity has been a terrible mistake.

The man in the leather helm slaps me, the blow making my head ring. “Shut up, slave,” he hisses. “You know they will not wake.”

How had he known that? Were my masters so predictable? I do not understand what’s happening, but these men mean my masters harm. Sudden fury fills me that they would seek to hurt two good men and I struggle, my fists flying as I kick out. One man groans and drops to his knees when my foot lands against his crotch. I bite another, his blood filling my mouth as I tear my teeth away.

“Get her against the wall!” the man in the leather helmet shouts.

Hard hands push me against the fence, and something in my face gives way when he punches me. He grips my chin, making me cry out in pain as bone rubs against bone.

“Bitch,” he hisses. “If you were mine, I would give you a thousand lashes for that.”

“I am not yours!” I shout. Working my mouth, I spit in his face, watching with satisfaction as the blood and spit trickle down his cheek.

He wipes his face with a gloved hand and smirks. “If I had more time, I would make you wish for those thousand lashes.”

Nodding at his men, he steps back. Two men pull my arm up, nearly yanking my shoulder from its socket.

I scream desperately, crying out for my masters as they set a spike between the bones of my wrist, nailing me to the fence. When they affix my other wrist to the wood, I’m beyond screaming. Tears stream from my eyes when my chiton is ripped from my body. I whimper as they drive hot metal into my ankles, spreading me wide across the fence like a spitted deer.

“Oh, I almost forgot the message,” the man in the helmet says, fingering a bronze dagger.

He sets the blade to my chest to carve letters in my flesh. I don’t know how to read them. Blood drips from the wounds, hot against my chilled skin and my voice breaks against a harsh scream.

“Almost done, little slave. Take joy in knowing you will be a most effective message.” Without another word, he stabs the dagger into my belly, dragging it across to spill my insides to the dusty ground.

Whistling softly, he turns away as the sun slips below the trees. As I watch my intestines fall away in bluish ropes of meat, I hear a roar from inside the house.

My masters burst outside, teeth bared in inhuman snarls as they fall upon the men, killing everyone in sight. Amedus rushes to me, tearing his wrist open with sharp teeth. He opens my mouth and pushes his arm between my lips.

“Drink,” he commands.

“I would rather you did not, Orisa,” a strange voice says. Neither Amedus nor Calmarus twitch at the sound of his voice. I think I am the only one who can hear him.

I look over Amedus’ head, my vision hazy. A man walks toward me, glittering in the setting sun. He’s golden-haired like me with eyes the color of new grass. I have never seen such beautiful eyes.

“Who are you?” I whisper from behind Amedus’s arm, but Calmarus answers first.

“Sweet, you know me. I’m Calmarus. Please, take what Amedus offers.” His expression stricken, he strokes my bruised cheek with a shaking hand.

“You bring me flowers every day,” the golden man replies. “Even in winter when they are made of bits of cloth and twigs, you offer them to me.”

“Orisa, please!” Amedus cries. His face crumples as tears stream from his eyes.

I blink as Calmarus tears at his own wrist, fangs flashing in the dimming light. His blood spills over my face, hot and scented with wine. I open my mouth for a taste. My pain is fading and I wonder if it’s because of the blood they’re trying to give me or if I am dying.

The golden man steps between them and silences me with two fingers upon my lips. “No, my most devout servant. They are not worthy of you. Not yet.”

The last fading light from the sun strikes him, revealing that which had been hidden. Stepping away from the wall and what remains of my body, I take his hand. He clothes me in gossamer white. Flowers twist themselves through my hair as he kisses my forehead.

“If not now, then when?” I ask, trying not to look at my violated flesh. The pain is gone, but the memory will remain with me.

“Soon,” he replies.

“What is soon to a god? That word is meaningless, coming from you.”

He laughs and tugs my hair, adding another flower to the crown upon my head.

“Name me then, since you have already guessed, clever girl.”

I swallow hard and croak out the name.

“Satre.”

“I knew you would recognize me. You are my most devoted worshiper.” He strokes my hair and adds a sweetly scented lily to my crown.

Amazed a god has noticed my poor offerings, I smile at the compliment. There is a tremendous crash behind me and I spin around at the sounds of shouting.

“I will never forgive you for this,” Amedus hisses, his dagger-like canines bared. “You put us all at risk with your scheming. I knew I should have kept her from you.”

“And you with your filthy theft of anything not nailed down,” Calmarus retorts. “Is it any wonder we have enemies?”

“Bastard! They came here for you!” Calmarus points at my ruined stomach.

“You would like to think so,” Amedus hisses back. He draws back his fist and punches Calmarus, the crack of breaking bone startling birds from the olive trees and sending the other man reeling. Calmarus is more obviously muscled, but Amedus is faster by far. “You would blame all your faults on me if you could. This is clearly Berian’s work. You have ruined us, killed Orisa with your greed.”

Calmarus’ nose drips blood as he advances on Amedus, yet he halts when Amedus draws a knife. I want to tell them to stop their fighting. It helps no one, yet Satre catches my arm and holds me back.

They glare at each other. “Her death is on your head, schemer,” Calmarus says, his voice soft and dangerous. “I should have taken her and left you long ago.”

“I would have killed you if you tried. I should kill you now,” Amedus spits out the words, hate and rage and pain clear in his voice.

“Try it,” Calmarus taunts him.

Fear is a dagger through my heart and I look pleadingly at Satre, who shakes his head in disgust at their arguing.

My lovers glare at each other but make no move. In a fair fight, they would both likely die.

“From this day forward, you will know no peace. I will destroy everyone you hold dear.” Amedus’s voice is soft but sincere.

“And I, you,” Calmarus replies, his nose dripping blood. “You will never know love again.”

I have told them many times their greed serves no purpose and now we have all paid the price for their lust for coin. Worse, they have forgotten the love they shared before me. I choke out a sob, my heart shattering.

“Let us leave them to their sport, shall we?” Satre curls my hand around his arm. “The Elysian fields await.”

“I do not want to leave them,” I whisper. “Please… do not make me.”

“They are not worthy of you,” he says, frowning at the two men as they stalk away from each other, anger in every line of their bodies.

“But I want them.”

He looks at me, his head cocked as the last of the sun’s rays cast us in shadow. “Do you know what you ask?”

I swallow and take a last look at my broken body hanging on the courtyard fence. “Yes, I do. But I believe in the love we shared and know I can help them find it again.”

“You could be happy in Elysium,” he says. “There are no slaves there, only the devout.”

“I know.” Satre is wrong though. I will not be happy without my loves, not truly.

He takes my hand and brings it to his lips. “We shall see. We shall see.”