Read Online Gates of Rapture (The Guardians of Ascension) by Caris Roane - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Caris Roane
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name still meant something to him. His tribe had been known as the soulful ones, and the name he’d earned in battle was one who is brave.
Those days, however, were long past, and the century with Greaves, betraying those he loved, had changed him. He was fractured inside. He didn’t know himself anymore. He didn’t recognize himself. Parts, yes, like his warrior nature on one side, but this other part was big, demanding, even oppressive. Who was this beast?
In his three thousand years of ascended life, he’d never experienced anything like what he was going through. Was he part death vampire now and forever? He didn’t know. But his last thoughts before passing out had been Grace has come home. I’m safe now. I’ll be okay. And finally, Oh, God, I can breathe again.
He went downstairs and sat at the dining table in one of the tall-back chairs. He leaned his elbows on the carved wooden table and put his head in his hands.
The sex.
The sex had been magnificent, like every fantasy he’d had about Grace for the past five months all rolled into one.
But he’d been so damn rough. Had he hurt her? She hadn’t seemed hurt. She’d seemed … enrapt. He smiled, just a small quirking up of his left cheek. Grace was such a pure soul; he would never have believed this of her, this complete abandon in her lovemaking.
He glanced at the clock, trying to determine just how long he’d been out.
It was nearly five. The games were due to start in two hours and he had a speech to make.
Duties to attend to.
He stood up. With a wave of his hand, and with long practice, he donned flight gear, all heavy, battle-worthy black leather, a kilt that was as familiar as air, battle sandals, shin guards, silver-studded wrist guards.
Time to speak with Grace. May I fold to your position ? he sent.
There was a slight pause and his body tensed. Why the silence? Was something wrong? Was she in trouble?
Yes, of course you can come, but … I want to stay in the hot spring. Is that all right with you?
Even thinking about her in the spring to the north of his cabin brought pleasure gripping his cock. The location wasn’t far, just a hundred yards, no more, in a cluster of rocks. And Grace had found it. He sighed. Perfect.
Leto ?
I’m here. Sorry. The images. But I wish to speak with you before I head to the games, and later I’ll want you to have a contingent of Militia Warriors around you while you fold to the landing platforms.
He heard a mental sigh. As you wish.
Sometimes the way she spoke, her word choices, surprised him. As you wish, for instance? But then she’d been convent-trained for a century.
See you in a few, he sent.
* * *
Grace floated in the small, decadent, heavenly pool of steaming water. The mountain air was cool in early September, the water hot and relaxing. Wisps of mist floated and swirled from the water in continuously moving patterns. The forest was beautiful at twilight. She ached in so many wonderful places that all she could do was smile up into the sky. She felt safe and free.
Leto had worked her neck fiercely, taking her blood. She touched her neck and rubbed a finger over the swollen tissue. She didn’t want it to heal too fast. She wanted to savor the memories as long as she could.
She flapped her hands just a little and moved her body in a circle. There was enough room to stretch all the way out, and she would have done that now, but not with Leto coming. She thought it imprudent to greet him with her breasts bobbing above the waterline like two small islands, a pebble in the center of each.
The image made her smile.
Dear Leto.
She had missed him. She understood that now. She had missed him as much as life itself. She had known him all her two thousand years, even if their paths crossed infrequently. Even so, he’d been a constant in her life and an excellent friend to Thorne, having served as Thorne’s mentor until recent decades. Leto had also inspired her erotic poetry at
Those days, however, were long past, and the century with Greaves, betraying those he loved, had changed him. He was fractured inside. He didn’t know himself anymore. He didn’t recognize himself. Parts, yes, like his warrior nature on one side, but this other part was big, demanding, even oppressive. Who was this beast?
In his three thousand years of ascended life, he’d never experienced anything like what he was going through. Was he part death vampire now and forever? He didn’t know. But his last thoughts before passing out had been Grace has come home. I’m safe now. I’ll be okay. And finally, Oh, God, I can breathe again.
He went downstairs and sat at the dining table in one of the tall-back chairs. He leaned his elbows on the carved wooden table and put his head in his hands.
The sex.
The sex had been magnificent, like every fantasy he’d had about Grace for the past five months all rolled into one.
But he’d been so damn rough. Had he hurt her? She hadn’t seemed hurt. She’d seemed … enrapt. He smiled, just a small quirking up of his left cheek. Grace was such a pure soul; he would never have believed this of her, this complete abandon in her lovemaking.
He glanced at the clock, trying to determine just how long he’d been out.
It was nearly five. The games were due to start in two hours and he had a speech to make.
Duties to attend to.
He stood up. With a wave of his hand, and with long practice, he donned flight gear, all heavy, battle-worthy black leather, a kilt that was as familiar as air, battle sandals, shin guards, silver-studded wrist guards.
Time to speak with Grace. May I fold to your position ? he sent.
There was a slight pause and his body tensed. Why the silence? Was something wrong? Was she in trouble?
Yes, of course you can come, but … I want to stay in the hot spring. Is that all right with you?
Even thinking about her in the spring to the north of his cabin brought pleasure gripping his cock. The location wasn’t far, just a hundred yards, no more, in a cluster of rocks. And Grace had found it. He sighed. Perfect.
Leto ?
I’m here. Sorry. The images. But I wish to speak with you before I head to the games, and later I’ll want you to have a contingent of Militia Warriors around you while you fold to the landing platforms.
He heard a mental sigh. As you wish.
Sometimes the way she spoke, her word choices, surprised him. As you wish, for instance? But then she’d been convent-trained for a century.
See you in a few, he sent.
* * *
Grace floated in the small, decadent, heavenly pool of steaming water. The mountain air was cool in early September, the water hot and relaxing. Wisps of mist floated and swirled from the water in continuously moving patterns. The forest was beautiful at twilight. She ached in so many wonderful places that all she could do was smile up into the sky. She felt safe and free.
Leto had worked her neck fiercely, taking her blood. She touched her neck and rubbed a finger over the swollen tissue. She didn’t want it to heal too fast. She wanted to savor the memories as long as she could.
She flapped her hands just a little and moved her body in a circle. There was enough room to stretch all the way out, and she would have done that now, but not with Leto coming. She thought it imprudent to greet him with her breasts bobbing above the waterline like two small islands, a pebble in the center of each.
The image made her smile.
Dear Leto.
She had missed him. She understood that now. She had missed him as much as life itself. She had known him all her two thousand years, even if their paths crossed infrequently. Even so, he’d been a constant in her life and an excellent friend to Thorne, having served as Thorne’s mentor until recent decades. Leto had also inspired her erotic poetry at
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