Sins of Calate: BOOK II OF THE FOUR REALMS SERIES

The Claiming of Emaris

He often walked the length of the world in solace, watching with interest at how the landscape would change; rocks into mountains, sand into snow, enticing warmth into biting frost. He had walked it so many times that he recognised each blade of grass, each grain of sand, each sound the birds above made at each time of day.

It was during one such walk that the seed had been sown. When that which another possessed, became that which he lacked. From contentment had burst forth a new vine. From seedling to sapling it had grown, its roots twisting inside him, tightening around his heart, crawling up into his mind. If one were to slice open the vine he knew that it would hiss and spit like a vipers tongue, knew that as it grew it poisoned all that he had once thought, all that he had once loved.

He could not feed it. Must starve it to death, then it would wither and die.

His attention slid from the path he walked, leaving the flat dusty road to where the hard sand met dried flattened grass. Beyond which he could spy a low bracket of bushels, the ground beneath them bright green and not the dried yellow of these lands. Movement up ahead, through the curtain of trees, the faint sound of water splashing.

He did not recognise this place, had not once come upon it in any of his journeys. A new creation of fathers?

Curiosity sang in his chest as he stepped from the path and moved toward the slosh and spatter of liquid. It was a warm day and he would not mind the chance to cool in the depths of a sparkling blue lake.

He ducked through the bracket of trees, scenting them as he went. Rich, verdant, and blooming with life. A species he had not yet encountered. Curious, he plucked a leaf from its branch and rubbed its waxy skin between his fingers before holding it to his nose. Intoxicating. So distracted was he by it that he did not immediately spot the female standing by the bank of a gleaming cerulean pool.

Turning his focus ahead, his breath caught. Rivulets dripped from every curve of her pale naked form. Her hair was the colour of spiced honeyed wine, and when she turned to look at him over her shoulder the golden green of her eyes shone brighter than fire.

'I have been waiting for you...' she smiled, a seductive curve to her rose-red mouth. Her voice was like a song he had heard as a child, familiar and wistful. Longing wrapped around him soft like silk.

Suspicion fought against the lust swirling inside him. 'Who are you?'

'A gift, Calate. I am but a gift for you.'

He wanted to question her further but she turned fully to face him, her breasts tipped with petal pink buds, and caused his tongue to dry with want.

Was she more beautiful than Azura? He thought perhaps she was, though she had a cruel slant to her smile where Azura did not. There was a danger to this female; a danger which lived in her eyes and her mouth, a danger which seemed to call to the poisoned vine within him.

When she began to walk toward him his blood grew thick and loud, the length between his legs turning heavy and hot. Pressing herself against him, she gazed up into his eyes and inhaled deeply.

'Your desire is sweeter than dark wine,' she told him.

He closed his eyes and inhaled, her own scent intoxicating and heady. Sweet too but with an earthiness that minded him of grass fresh from the rain. His favourite scent in all of existence. Second only to the scent of Azu--her name melted from his mind as though it ceased to exist. And for a time, she ceased to exist.

'What is your name?' He asked. His tongue felt thick and drunk, his words lazy.

'Emaris,' she whispered as she took hold of him, stroking his length through the fabric of his tunic. A growl of need tore from his throat as he gripped hold of her breast and lowered his head to suckle it. She moaned with delight, arching her body up to invite his mouth deeper. Playful, she slipped out of his touch and danced closer to the edge of the pool.

'Come back here,' he demanded, his lust thick now, a thirst in him like he had never known.

She smiled back at him like sin and turned to dive into the water. He rushed toward her and waited for her to reemerge. When she did she was laughing like a girl.

'Come into the water, Calate,' she cooed. 'It is cooler than the depths of any ocean and the burn of the sun is upon you.'

Something pecked at him, like foreboding, a warning he should heed. But again it melted away the very moment he acknowledged it. He pulled his tunic over his head and let the sun warm his back a moment, then followed Emaris into the water.

It was soothing and perfectly cool, a tonic to his warm skin. When he swam towards her she turned to swim away, kicking her legs out in a spirited splash, giggling softly. He felt light of mind, free of spirit, and aware of only his desire for her.

There was a circle of pale rock in the centre of the pool and she swam toward it with agility and speed, intent he knew on lifting herself out of the water onto it. He was too quick however and caught hold of her slender ankle to pull her back against him.

Turning, she pressed herself against the rock and gazed up at him, that same sinful smile on her face. She looped her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts against him, wanton, teasing. Breaths fast and her cheeks pink from the chase, he was certain the world possessed no sight as lovely as she.

'Have you lain with a male before?' He asked her.

'Many,' she confessed.

Envy sliced through him like a knife, rage spearing like wildfire through his blood.

He pinned her against the rock with his body, overwhelmed by the sudden urge to make her his. Only his.

'Then what of a God? Have you lain with a God?'

'Do not all men believe themselves to be Gods?' She laughed.

'Perhaps. But all men are not Gods. I am Calate, son of Ethis. And I will have you, Emaris,' he growled.

He bent to kiss the wet, lush, red of her lips and took her mouth deep into his own, violent and hard. He nudged apart her thighs with his own and prepared to claim her, but she resisted, denying him. Half-mad from hunger, he lifted his head and stared down at her. Had she misled him? Taunted him? If she would not permit him have her then he would take her. He was a God. None could deny him.

'I will let you have me, Calate, Son of Ethis. In all of the ways a male can possess a female. But after,' she smiled, cunning and beautiful. '...after you are done with me I will take something from you.'

He frowned, surprised. 'What will you take?'

'You will speak to me of your deepest desire. And I shall grant it to you.'

'It does not seem a fair trade, my lady.' He could not stop the unrefined grin from spreading across his face. 'I claim you here, now, and afterwards, you shall also grant me my deepest desire?'

She nodded, beguiling eyes alight with green fire. 'Do you accept?'

He could see no disadvantage in the trade, could not help but see her as foolish to make such an offer.

He skimmed the sides of her breasts with needy fingers, over the curve of her hips, her buttocks, and then pulled her hard against him.

'And what if I tell you that you are my greatest desire?

Another knowing smile. 'You will not.'

'You cannot be so certain?'

'Oh, but I am,' she replied. 'Now, tell me, do you accept.'

Her finger hovered over his lips, the tip grazing his tongue a fraction. She tasted of creamed peaches. Another of his favourites. Had this female been carved for him?

'I accept,' he breathed and claimed her with both his body and his mouth.