His Lover, My Mate

Forty-Nine: Soulkeeper

I know it's been nearly 5 years since the last update, but I missed you all and I missed this story.

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*Rush*

The hills were red.

It wasn't the settling night or the burning of the distant torches that painted them that way. It was Rush's vision, tainted with his mother's influence. His hands were burning like fire, the ground torn to rubble beneath his rough claws. Blood spurted from his mouth and his throat felt like it was ripped open. But he couldn't stop roaring in agony, in rage. For a long while, he was just that fucking slave, that fucking dog. Her dog.

You're only a dog.

Her deranged grin gleamed in his eyes. That was all he could see, how she would tell him her sins. How she would make him sin at her feet. Then she would sharpen her claws, only to condemn him, channel in all her hatred for the son that should never have been born. She wouldn't look away from his eyes, because she saw herself in him. She called him unworthy, because she was unworthy in his father's eyes. She was unworthy to be his wife. She was unworthy to rule with him. She was unworthy to bear his sons.

Blood kept pooling around him. All around his shackled hands and feet, the redness grew. The stench of blood and sex and release suffocated him. The slave's broken cries rang in the distance, because he wanted to end his life, but his mother wouldn't let him. She wanted him alive so she could keep breaking him.

The slave was left in his despair, without hope. Each new day was received with dread. And each night? He wanted to become invisible, praying his mother and her men did not see him. He prayed he would be spared another night. He kept praying to be saved so he could finally breathe the fresh air of a sinless world instead of the world he was forced to sin.

Then his salvation came. He'd been large and powerful, dark and murderous as he set his dark eyes on the pleasure slave. The Death Alpha, he'd called himself. He was from the Darklands, and at first Rush had thought this male wanted him to sate his own sick pleasures. At the thought, fresh chills of terror shot up his spine. The slave didn't think he'd survive this male. Something about his hard, cruel gaze had been almost sadistic, unforgivable.

But Maddox wanted nothing but to set Rush free.

For decades, Rush could not be without Maddox. He'd been a mess. His mind had been taken over by insanity. The centuries worth of torture and abuse had finally settled in, and the first few years, Rush would have panic attacks. He would relive his past over and over again. The only solace he found was the Death Alpha.

Rush hadn't trusted Maddox at first. He wouldn't receive his help. He'd pushed him away, rejecting his presence. All he did in his chamber was sit in the corner alone, barely clothed, and shivering. He wouldn't even let the maids come in. They'd been females. They reminded him of his mother. After the first few bursts of fright, Maddox came in and pulled his face against his neck.

"You have finally succumbed to your lusts, have you not, Death Alpha?" Rush had hissed against Maddox.

"Shut up," Maddox growled. "What I'm about to do right now is irreversible. But this is the only way to save you, so I must."

"What—" But the Death Alpha gave him no chance to retort, as a blast of dark energy racked through the both of them. Rush screamed in agony as his heart froze. Maddox had pierced both of their hearts, letting each other's blood join and seep back into their bodies. It almost felt as something tore through him, ravaging everything disgusting, tearing down his past and nightmares. Their hearts pumped desperately against each other, one clearing away sins while the other clung for redemption.