Authors: Lora Leigh
Her eyes narrowed, brilliant hued, snapping with sudden ire.
“Know you for certainty her magick defenses, warrior?” she
snapped. “Which would have greater knowledge of what preparations she would
need? Warriors infused with the hunger of her magick or a Guardian who has
sought the wise council of the great Garron, a magick that harkens only to the
Sorceresses of Covenan?”
In that moment, iridescent magick filled the hall, bringing
even the Twin Kings to their feet as they watched curiously from their thrones.
Garron, the great dragon of magick and lore, had come to the
Causeway only once before, it was said, on the eve of the conception of the
Ogre twins to the King of the Causeway and his mate.
Colors of rainbow hues rippled over the scales of his
powerful body as he stared down at the Sorceress who lay within Daelan’s arms.
Her magick was sizzling now, snapping against their bodies,
somehow greater, brighter for the presence of this being.
“What manner of visit is this, Garron?” King Aherin and his
brother moved from the throne dais to the floor of the hall as Garron’s head
tilted to the side, watching the magick of the Sorceress as it began to shift
in color, violets and blues and sparks of multihued greens.
“Ah, the Twin Kings.” Garron’s voice was a hiss of amusement
as he turned and glanced at the two powerful warriors nearing him. “The Ogre
rule has never been so strong as it is now, the land whispers. All of Cauldaran
and Covenan owe you a great debt for your protection.”
“We do that which our One commanded us to the best of our
strength and our magick,” Aherin deflected the compliment. “We need no thanks
for what is ours to do.”
Garron nodded at this. “Humble as well. Wizard Twins would
have much to learn from you.”
He turned back to Arabella as she stared up at him,
mesmerized by the magick flickering over his body, snapping in his eyes.
“Sorceress,” he said softly then, lifting a clawed hand to
wave before him. “What magick fills you, Halfling, and how did such come into
being?”
Daelan felt his brother’s surprise merge with his as their
magick parted from their princess, easing back to them beneath Garron’s command
as Muse stood silently to the side.
He had called her Halfling? Halflings did not possess such
power. It was unheard of. It was impossible.
Lifting both clawed hands, Garron silently called her magick
to him, watching with eyes black as the Ogre, yet filled with such pinpoints of
color, such powerful magick that surely he could awaken the One with it by
thought alone.
“Such power,” he crooned as her magick twined about his
hands, spreading over his fingers, lingering against his touch with the
impression of a child seeking a father’s favor.
He spread his hands farther and spiraling threads of magick
moved back to the princess, easing inside her, calming as a measure of control
returned to Daelan and to his brother.
“Be at ease, Ogre,” he said quietly as though only now aware
of the dozens of Ogre that had moved into the hall, their hands braced upon
their swords as though prepared to battle. “There is no dark magick here. Your
Guardian Muse can attest that I am not the twin whose evil seeks to fill this
place.”
Shock resounded about the hall. Even Muse had seemed unaware
of the battle they fought daily to weed out the infecting dark evil attempting
to turn the dark magick of the Causeway against its protectors.
All magick that had been drained from Sorceresses and other
creatures of magick during the birth of evil had been gathered here within the
Causeway, its hatred of humans a barrier against them. Yet somehow humans
always found their way across it. A pathway would create itself, the evil of
hatred parting the magick to allow those seeking magickal beings to transport
across it and feed the depravities of those awaiting it on the other side. Before
the Ogre could reach it, it would dissipate and then reopen elsewhere.
“He is Garron,” Muse attested. “I visited his lair the
moment the princess entered the Causeway and sought his counsel.”
Her beautiful, mystical voice eased the tension gathering among
the warriors.
“Give your princess leave to be prepared, Ogre Dungarrin,”
Garron requested then, or rather ordered gently. “She will come to no harm, and
when she returns to you, you will find a power you have never beheld in your
lives. This creature found your Vale and her warriors because Sorceress magick
commands such powers. She will always move to it, long for it, just as the
Castle Covenan and its Sorceress will always command that which lies beneath
it. To attain her power, to learn her own secrets, before merging with the
power of her warriors, she must first merge with the power of the liquid magick
you protect the gateway to.”
The handmaidens, guided by Muse, eased Arabella from their
protection then as Caedan and Daelan stared at the great dragon in shock.
“She is indeed a Sorceress then, just as we sensed?” Daelan
whispered.
“Aye, Dungarrin,” Garron assured him, the title of their
house one of great respect from the creature of absolute power they faced. One
greater even than that of Muse. “A rather unique Consortress you have attained.
One who cannot be lured by magick, by wizard or by the designs of any greater
magick. The lure of this Sorceress Halfling was one of the heart. The awakening
of her power, long held dormant, gathering and strengthening over the centuries
for lack of sharing, has created a power none have yet known. The power you
have found, Ogre, is one even history has not heard of. She is the Seed. The
Ogre of Dungarrin is the Rain. Together, the power the Kings of the Causeway
have prayed to the One to grant them, to protect its treasures, has been
granted you. Shall we see now how the Ogre shall use the newly awakened
strength that will soon emerge within it?”
Arabella was bathed within the pools of the Vale that had
been calling to her, yet the laws of the Ogre had forbidden her to step into
it.
She was laid upon a smooth slab of black obsidian, its cool,
polished surface easing the heat raging through her as the reemerging curls,
torn from her flesh by her father’s mistresses, were magickally removed
completely. There was no abrading of her softest flesh, no discomfort, but the
sensitivity of it…
A moan slipped past her lips as her hips arched, the
invisible magick of the Vale caressing her, whispering over her and drawing the
slick warmth from her woman’s flesh well.
As she lay there, nothing covering her, comfort and warmth
surrounding her, she was aware of the handmaidens moving slowly away. Their
golden eyes and dusky skin had been a surprise she hadn’t expected when they’d
disrobed.
In their place stood Muse, the Guardian—daughter of the
Sentinel Select.
Arabella stared up at her in fascination, amazed at the
heightened power she felt within herself, and the power she felt within this
being.
Violet eyes, pitch-black hair flowing around her. Dressed in
warrior’s leathers, a sword at her side, her creamy flesh so pure and pretty it
was enchanting.
She was a being with secrets though. Dark secrets she dare
let none reveal so she kept them close to her spirit. Secrets that could rock
the hierarchies of power…
“I cannot hide from you, just as Garron predicted,” Muse
sighed. “How humbling for one called a god to realize there is a power that can
see into the spirit she keeps carefully hidden.”
Arabella licked her lips nervously. “Your secrets are safe
with me, Guardian,” she promised. “As are the secrets of those you claim as
your own.”
Muse ducked her head for a moment before sighing as though
weary and staring about the Vale where she often found solace, Arabella
thought.
“This place is within Nirvana,” Muse told her then. “Did
your warriors tell you this?”
Arabella shook her head as she sat up slowly, staring
around.
Spora—that was the feathery stuff drifting through the air.
Pure magick in its second form after leaving the liquid pools where it bubbled
and swirled and played like living particles of dampness merging together.
“I had not known of Nirvana until I was drawn here,”
Arabella revealed. “I knew of the One, though humans call him by a different
name, and give him a bearing of retribution which does not sleep.”
Muse nodded. “Perhaps our One does not sleep exactly.” She
smiled. “He always seems to know when we are in need though. This land,
Sentmar, it was created by him for magick. There was only peace here until the
humans invaded our lands.”
“They say they tricked the Sidhe to come to this place, for
magick is evil, no matter its place, no matter its type.”
Muse nodded. “Humans twist what they do not understand.
Perhaps the One created their plane without such magick, and the two were not
to merge.”
“Perhaps.” Arabella thought this might be true. “What do we
know of such beings’ thoughts though?” She shrugged.
“And now we find ourselves here, Halfling,” Muse sighed.
“You are unique among our kind, among all magick. A creature created by untold
generations of building magick and careful tempering by the land around it. The
magick of your family line is of all magicks of the land. Over generations
magick has merged with magick as magickal beings have added to each
generation’s addition until the creation of the Seed emerged. You are the Seed
Sorceress. A creature of all the magicks of Sentmar brought into one. You will
birth a new magick in this land, one that may well prevail against human and
evil in future generations.”
Arabella blinked back at her in surprise. “Mother said my
line is Spry, not any other magick.”
“Perhaps she knew not of your other magick,” Muse said
softly. “It is a magick you have fought, have you not?”
“I have come to it with reluctance,” Arabella agreed. “I
knew the Vale drew me. I knew the warriors were mine. But I did not believe I
would be gifted with the chance to have them as they seem to believe we should
be.”
Muse smiled back at her. “They are to be yours forever,
Arabella. This place of magick we call the Vale, the Causeway they protect and
all its mysteries will one day breed a magick that no being can trespass or
manipulate without the protector’s knowledge. That will be your gift. The
magickal children born of you and your warriors, merging one day with the
children of the rulers of this land. Never fear, my reluctant Halfling, your
place within your warriors lives. This land, and magick itself, is assured from
this moment forth.”
“You will help me with this?” Arabella wondered if she
possessed the knowledge, the wisdom to be such a person.
“I must leave soon…”
“You must not.” Reaching out, she grasped the hand of the
one magickal being called a god and became trapped, pulled into knowledge, into
secrets, into a world of a woman’s aching needs, the torment of twins she
believed would not be hers and the passions they shared.
“No!” Muse jerked back, cradling her hand to her chest,
shock and despair filling her violet eyes. “You were not to see such things.”
Arabella sat back then, not at all sorry, pleased to know
this exceptional woman before her had her own place within the magick Arabella
would come to know.
“So many secrets the Guardians know,” she whispered. “And so
much you do not know. You will not leave me here within this place alone, for
we are to be honed within this place by a most powerful friendship. This place,
the Vale, the Causeway, merges our destiny, Guardian. I wish you to stay for a
while longer, as is my right as the Sentinel of the Land, the first seeded by
the magick of the lands and planted by the One who created us all.”
Lips parted in surprise, Muse drew in a harsh breath as
Arabella revealed the destiny even she herself had been unaware of.
“Sentinel of the Lands?” she whispered.
“There will be four,” Arabella told her then. “Princess
Serena will be the second once she has found her path back to her magick.
Sentinel of the merging Cauldaran and Covenan lands. The third shall merge the
hidden magicks.” The third, Arabella knew, would be this gentle child of the
gods of Sentmar. “The fourth shall be found in human lands once more, to
rebuild the magicks humans have desecrated. That land shall be painted with
blood,” Arabella whispered sadly. “Sentmar was created to protect all magick,
and the humans brought with them the evil that would destroy it. They will
become beings of magick, or they will die upon the blades of their own hatred,
it shall be their choice.”
“And what of Sentmar’s Guardian Select?” Muse whispered.
“The gods who have guided this land for so many eons?”
Arabella smiled, a smile of brilliant peace, of love and
joy. “The One gave them a promise, Muse, long before humans came to this land.
When they alone heard his message and tamed the magick beneath the lands. Would
he break the covenant he made with them?”
Muse shook her head. “He swore it was ever reaching.”
“Ever reaching for the unit they became and for the children
who followed their teachings and the magick the One created,” she agreed. “Have
no fear, Muse, for your destiny as well is far more than you could ever
imagine.”
* * * * *
Caedan and Daelan entered their chambers, the hunger
haunting them becoming a vicious beast as they saw their Consortress awaiting
them.
Her magick reached for them, merging with the luminous
threads of pale-white magick the Ogre possessed as it began curling from within
them, reaching out to her.
Clothing was shed instantly, their magick obliterating it
with no more than a thought, leaving muscle-hardened, battle-scarred flesh
bare, the powerful spears of their erections standing out from their bodies.
Going each to the opposite sides of the bed, they crawled
upon the fur-draped sponge stone harvested and molded into the bedding magickal
beings slept upon.
It firmed instantly as their weight was added to it.
Immediately, their Sorceress Halfling reached out for them,
awaiting them, well prepared for the hunger she was meeting.
Their time in the Vale had ensured she knew what awaited her
this night.
Taking her kiss, Daelan could feel the silken-soft hand
curling about his cock as his brother tasted the cherry-tipped mounds of her
breasts. Finally, Caedan’s lips covered one tender bud, sucking it into his
mouth as she arched and cried out at the contact.
Their Consortress, the woman they had loved and played with
during her visits within the Vale.
She was theirs.
Arabella moaned in need as her warrior’s kiss eased back,
only to feel the broad head of his cock pressing against her lips moments
later.
Parting them, Arabella found her mouth filled with the head
of his erection.
The hard lips suckling at her nipple eased lower, spreading
kisses in their wake as their magick penetrated the tender depths of her vagina
and the snug, aching depths of her anus as Caedan’s hungry tongue slid through
the narrow slit of her pussy.
Rubbing, tasting her, he flicked his tongue over sensitized
flesh, circled the sensitive bud of her clit and pushed her arousal ever
higher.
Drawing firmly on the broad crest of Daelan’s cock, Arabella
felt the merging of their magick, dragging them, tugging them closer to release
as she found her hands suddenly shackled by magick, pulled back from them.
Daelan drew the hard flesh filling her mouth back, taking the taste of male
need from her hungry tongue.
“We cannot wait,” he groaned. “The need is too strong,
love.”
Caedan eased from between her thighs, rising between them as
Daelan watched, his gaze centered to where his brother tucked the head of his
cock between the silken folds of her intimate flesh.
Arabella watched, barely daring to breathe as she felt the
first stretching of her untouched flesh, the invasion easing inside her as
magick curled around her nipples, ghostly mouths suckling at them with abandon
as more tugged at the tender bud of her clit.
She was wrapped in magick, sorcery and pleasure.
Yet her gaze was locked on the hard, heavily veined flesh of
Caedan’s cock as he pushed inside her. Her slick juices coated it as magick
wrapped around it.
His hips shifted, pushing in, dragging back, pushing in,
then back, then with one hard thrust the iron-hard flesh buried deep inside
her, though still half of the heavy erection had yet to sink inside.
“Arabella,” Daelan whispered. “I can feel your pussy
wrapping around my cock as well. Each sensation he feels…” He groaned. “Sweet
princess, take all of him. Take him, love, so I can have you as well.”
Drawing back, Caedan paused, parted the folds of her pussy
to allow his brother to see the stretched pink flesh gripping his cock.
They both groaned.
Arabella screamed out in pleasure as the hardness piercing
her plunged full length inside her. Buried to the hilt, throbbing, burning
inside her until her senses were ready to explode.
“Now,” Daelan growled.
She was lifted, magick and male hands moving her as Caedan
lay back along the bed, settling her into the cradle of his thighs, his cock
impaling her, stretching her with such a pleasure-pain she feared she could not
bear it.
Then Daelan was behind her, the heavy width of his erection
pressing at the tighter, smaller entrance there.
They had prepared her many times with their magick. But
their magick and the thick flesh now pushing past the tight ring were two
different things.
She arched, cried out their names. She felt their magick
inside her, slickening the little hole, stretching her ahead of the thick crest
impaling her as her screams of pleasure echoed around her.
They were penetrating the very depths of her.
Caedan’s cock filled her pussy, throbbing in demand, his
hips bunched, ready to begin thrusting. Behind her, Daelan bore deeper inside
her rear, her flesh stretching tight around the invasion, fire and ice lancing
at her nerve endings as she took more than she had ever imagined she could.
Bearing down, she clenched the muscles of her cunt,
tightening on the erection filling her as the tight grip of her anus began
flexing and milking the cock burying inside it.
Magick lubricated her, eased her until Daelan’s length was
an iron-hard shaft of throbbing male flesh impaling her.
They held her hips steady, holding her to them as the hard
widths of their shafts throbbed in each portal they possessed. She could feel
her anus flexing, spasming around Daelan’s cock, her muscles fighting to accept
and accustom to him. Caedan’s cock throbbed in her pussy, the little shifts of
his hips rasping the mushroomed head against sensitive tissue until she
wondered if she would be driven mad with the pleasure.
Their groans filled the room in unison as they began moving.
In perfect accord, one in, one out, tearing her senses apart with the
sensations burning through her.
Magick lips drew on her nipples, suckled her clit. Hard
cocks burrowed into her cunt, her ass, fucking her with hard thrusts and male
hunger as she began tightening in their arms, pleasure impaling her, ratcheting
through her as she fought to move between them.
Her inner muscles sucked at the hard shafts. Her breasts
swelled, her clit began to pulse deep, internal spasms as each thrust became
harder, faster.
It was building, tightening. She couldn’t bear the pleasure,
couldn’t bear the waves of heat burning between them.
Her magick tightened around their balls, stroked their
flesh, tugged at their nipples.
They were driving her mad. Her nipples and clit plumped,
becoming more swollen, flexing and throbbing until their combined thrusts sent
her exploding into a magick and a pleasure she could have never envisioned.