Chapter Text
Elijah crawled up the bank through tall grass and weeds to hopefully stay hidden. He could hear voices, in the distance he could hear laughter, and above him the storm howled as shapes moved between the clouds. He was reminded of a painting he had once seen in an art book, of Skoll as a wolf, chasing the sun chariot across the sky as it was pulled by horses.
He crawled behind a large rock and looked out, just to see what he had to believe was Skoll, kicking his mate through the air. Elijah covered his mouth to keep from shouting in shock. His mate lay on the ground, wheezing and struggling to breathe, with his left horn broken, covered in blood, and helpless.
Skoll went to stand over him, taunting him. The warlord was as large and imitating as Elijah had imagined, but also, not. The Skoll from his nightmares had been heavier with muscle, with better armor, a cloak made of pegasus feathers, with an army of thousands at his back and victims in the millions. But there was no denying that this creature, this warlord, was going to kill his mate if he didn’t do something incredibly stupid.
Elijah snarled, pulling back his lips to show his small fangs as his eyes glowed white. All that energy he had been pulling back all day, all the magic that had been trying to escape him every time he had been scared, rushed out of him. Above him the wolves that had been circling overhead fled his dancing lightning.
He stood up, pulling all that magic together, and he threw it all at the warlord currently crushing his mate. The air filled with the scent of ozone, and there was a split second of stillness, before the world exploded.
Before the air had a chance to clear and the buzzing of electricity stopped, Elijah had crawled his way to where Amon’s body had been thrown. He ignored the chaos around him; the trees that were burning, the crater in the ground, the screams of the creatures that had been watching them. When he was kneeling at Amon’s side, he rolled him onto his back and grabbed his face with his bleeding hands.
“Amon?” he cried as he leaned over him. “Amon? Can you hear me?”
Amon didn’t move, but Elijah could see that he was breathing. He tried to brush the blood off his face and touched where his horn had been broken off. Was there a way to repair it–?
“My, my child…” a voice rasped. “That was quite the strike. I am impressed.”
Elijah froze over Amon, staring down at his pale face as fear crawled through him. What was he going to do? How could he fight Skoll? He needed a weapon–
A large hand grabbed him by the back of the neck and lifted him off the ground. Elijah yelled in surprise, kicking and twisting, trying to break the warlord’s grip. One hard, threatening shake, and claws pressing against neck made him stop, and he was suddenly looking Skoll in the eyes.
The warlord’s gray skin was now burned and bloody, his helmet had melted to his head and most of the horns had fallen off of it. Parts of his armor were charred and scuffed, and his other arm was missing all its armor and skin.
The warlord’s red eyes glowed. “I finally have you, child.”
The warlord smelled like burned flesh and leather, and it made Elijah gag. “Let me go–”
“I told your mother that I would find you,” Skoll said with a proud smile. The skin on his face was broken and bloody, and connected to the helmet that had melted. When Skoll spoke or moved any part of his face, his skin pulled against the unmoving metal. “I’m glad I was able to keep that promise.”
“Monster–!”
“Hmm, yes,” Skoll said as he tossed Elijah to the ground. He went to stand over him. “You’ve been keeping a secret for her, haven’t you, Elijah? Wasn’t it selfish of her to give that knowledge to you? She had to know that I would find you, and that I would get it from you. So tell me, and save yourself some pain: where are the pegasus?”
The warlord’s foot connected with his stomach and Elijah was kicked across the ground. When he landed on his stomach he was gasping and had to vomit. He then tried to crawl away, only to be distracted by Amon’s body. He hadn’t moved at all. Was he dead–?
“Where are the pegasus, Elijah?” Skoll repeated as he reached the Valkyrie. He kicked him in the chest this time, flipping him onto his back. “Tell me.”
Elijah tried to curl up and shield himself from the next blow, but the warlord reached down and grabbed his arms and forced him onto his back, and pressed his wrists into the dirt. He straddled him before he leaned closer in a position that was far too intimate for Elijah. The threat was no longer that he was going to hurt him, the warlord was going to do worse to him to get what he wanted.
“You’re still mortal,” the warlord said. “Remember that as I peel off your skin to make a new cloak for myself. It will be beautiful, adorned with the feathers of those pegasus, once you tell me where they are. If you do, I’ll kill you before I start to skin you. How is that for a deal?”
Elijah spit in his face, and the warlord slapped him.
It took a minute for his ears to stop ringing and for him to see straight again. When he opened his eyes, the warlord was standing in front of him with a sword. It wasn’t the kind of weapon he would expect a creature as large as Skoll to carry, in fact it looked almost comedic in his hand.
Skoll held up the sword. “Do you recognize this?”
“Should I?” Elijah gasped between clenched teeth.
“It was your mother’s,” Skoll said as he moved the sword in the air. “She tried so very hard to kill me with it. So I took it from her, and after I was done with her, I used it to cut off her head.”
He focused on the blade in his hand, and finally recognized it from his dream as the sword he had pulled from the stone. The steel reflected the lightning in the sky above them. His lightning.
When Skoll stomped towards him, Elijah lurched clumsily to his feet and reached his hand out towards the warlord. The bloody, open wounds on his hands and arms glowed and a bolt of lightning snapped from his palm and hit the warlord in the chest, knocking him back and away from him.
He looked back to Amon, who still had not moved. He resisted the desire to run over to him. Doing that would solve nothing and save no one. He saw that Skoll that dropped his mother’s sword when he knocked him back, and he ran to grab it.
He lifted it up in both hands. It was light and well-balanced. The blade was scuffed and dirty, but it still reflected the lightning that danced overhead. The grip was covered in a dark leather, and the pommel was gold with a symbol pressed into the center: it was the same Nordic shield knot he had tattooed on left shoulder.
He took a shaking breath as he gripped the sword with both hands as Amon had taught him. As much as he didn’t want to fight, he wanted to give up, go to Amon, and just cry, but he couldn’t. He had to stand up, he had to fight back. He had to do something.
“Going to kill me with that, little halfbreed?” rasped the warlord from where he struggled to get to one knee. More of his armor was melted and parts of it had been curled inward and stabbed into his skin. “I’ll say it again: you are most impressive. I wonder if that witch can teach me how to take your magic from you.”
“You’re not taking anymore from me,” Elijah said as tears ran down his face. Every step was painful, but he continued forward towards the warlord. “You’re not going to take anything from anyone ever again.”
Skill grinned at him. “I’ll give you one strike. Do your worst. See if you can kill me.”
Elijah gasped a loud breath and growled in his chest. Was this just a trick to get him close? It didn’t matter. He had an opening and he was going to take it. He pushed strength into his legs and ran at the warlord and swung the sword as hard and as fast as he could. The blade struck the warlord’s thick neck, but didn’t cut more than a few inches in before being stopped by bones and muscle.
Skoll didn’t look impressed. The strike didn’t even phase him. “Did you really think that would work?”
The lightning above reflected in the sword before Skoll’s blood covered the blade. He sniffled and tightened his grip, leaning on the blade and closer to the warlord. His eyes glowed white, and from gritted teeth he growled, “I’m not done yet.”
The tears in his skin from his previous attacks opened wider, and bolts of lightning cut across his skin and light burst out. He let loose the ball of magic that was inside him, the magic that the phantasm had leached off of him months, the magic that had bound with Amon’s, the magic that was going end all of this.
Skoll looked up as Elijah screamed in pain, and again, the world was white.
…
“ELIJAH!” Frankie yelled as she and a dozen fully-armed Furie warriors ran towards the smoke billowing up over the horizon. The entire hillside, hell the entire horizon, was on fire. Fire and smoke billowed up from a thicket of trees and filled the sky with smoke and ash. Lightning flashed furiously, dancing between the clouds and reaching out with dozens of fingers. In her back pocket was her cell phone with Elijah’s text message, but unlike the others with her, including her High Commander, she didn’t care that Elijah had found the pegasus, all she cared about was finding him alive.
With her sword in hand, she started charging across a stream towards the wall of fire.
“Frankie, hold up, we can’t just charge through!” called her commander. “We need a plan!”
She turned around, orange eyes bright with anger, only to watch as another magic door opened and from it charged a dozen or more Valkyrie, also armored, and some on horseback. The Furie warriors looked at each other in confusion before they turned their weapons on the approaching Valkyries.
The two on horses rode ahead of the group. One wore the armor and cloak of a commander, and the other had red hair and shimmering white eyes. Her high commander stepped forward to meet with theirs, but the one with the red hair turned her horse towards Frankie and rode towards her.
Frankie held her sword tight. “What are you doing here, Valkyrie?”
The woman pulled out her phone and showed Frankie the same text message she had received. “Elijah text me, too,” she said as she looked up at the lightning and fire. “You want to find him as much as I do.”
“I don’t have permission to do that,” she said.
The Valkyrie shrugged. “I don’t either. Hurry up.”
Frankie hesitated just a second before sheathing her sword. She ran around to the horse and leaped up behind the Valkyrie. The woman yelled for the horse to go, just as those behind them yelled for them to stop. But they didn’t stop, they leaped the stream and ran towards the fire.
“He won’t cross through the fire,” the Valkyrie shouted back to her as she turned the horse and ran adjacent to the trees. “Hopefully we can go around!”
“We don’t have time for this!” Frankie shouted in the Valkyrie’s ears as she held onto her.
“I don’t have–”
A dark shadow swooped down over them. Frankie pointed at the fallen angel as Reuben flew down in front of the trees. He flapped his mighty black wings and the gusts extinguished the fire and fell the trees.
“Reuben,” the Valkyrie cackled happily.
Frankie frowned. “How the hell do you know Reuben?”
“How do you know him?”
“We don’t have time–go!” Frankie shouted.
With Reuben leading the way, they ran the horse into the thicket, leaping over smoldering trees and branches. They could see the other side when Reuben yelled in surprise, and they were shocked by a blast of fire-hot white magic and lightning. The horse squealed and reared, throwing them both, before it was thrown to the ground. Frankie grunted in pain, before removing her helmet and tossing it to the side as the horse stood up and ran back through the thicket. She stumbled to her feet and started to run the opposite way, towards the smell of ozone and the crackle of magic still hanging in the air.
She didn’t see Reuben, but he must have been blasted back as well.
That blast was too big. It was too much. As she reached the blast-point, she found all the trees around her flattened. The ground was charred and burned. Any rocks in the vicinity had been tossed away. It was too much magic for a mortal to control and possibly survive–
She was running through smoke and dust when she tripped over something big and heavy and was thrown to the ground. Her sword in her hand for protection she was on her feet and turning to face whatever she had tripped over.
Lying, still steaming and metal still red from the blast, was a helmet. Frankie stepped closer and used her sword to roll it over. Her eyes widened when she met the burned-out eye sockets of the warlord, Skoll.
She couldn’t believe it. Skoll was finally dead.
But where was Elijah? She turned away from the head and crossed through the burning grass and piles of ash. “Elijah!” she yelled, and when there was no response, she said it again, even louder. “ELIJAH!”
A shadow swooped over her, and Reuben’s wings cleared out much of the smoke as he landed in the field. He was a big singed from the blast earlier, and missing a few feathers in his wings. He leaned down and picked up a Valkyrie longsword. The metal was covered with cooked flesh and blood.
Frankie shook her head as tears filled her eyes. “Reuben, where is he?” she pleaded.
The fallen angel looked around, eyebrows drawn into a worried frown. Then he stopped and he said, “Frankie.”
She turned to where he was looking and yelled. She ran across the field, past the angel, and landed on her knees next to Elijah’s mangled body. He was naked, his clothing having burned away from the blast, and he was as white as a corpse, where he wasn’t bloody. She hovered over him, afraid to touch him, but needing to. His entire body was covered in rips shaped like the lightning she had seen overhead just before the blast. His eyes and mouth were closed. His hair was singed short and burned. All the flesh on his hands and arms had been burned away, she could see some of his bones–
“Reuben!” she sobbed as she finally grabbed Elijah and dragged his limb, lifeless body into her arms. “You have to heal him!”
Reuben stood over them, his wings curled around the two protectively. “There’s nothing to heal, Frankie…” he said as his voice cracked. He was brought back to the moment months ago in the basement dungeon of his art gallery, when Elijah had been taken by the phantasm and had been dying. He had refused to help, citing his heavenly vows as the reason. It had been a mistake, he should have helped then. And now, he simply couldn’t.
“No,” Frankie sobbed as she took Elijah by the shoulders and shook him. “NO!”
Reuben rubbed his hand over his eyes as he turned away from the scene in front of him. The dust and smoke were clearing, and the clouds overhead had parted to reveal the rising moon. The burning, charred landscape was soon covered in moonlight. He saw a body lying in the chaos a few yards away. “There’s Amon.”
Frankie didn’t raise her head. She didn’t care about Amon. “I need a healer!” she screamed.
“Is that Elijah? No–!”
She looked up as the Valkyrie she had rode with dropped her sword and ran for them. She dropped down on Elijah’s other side and raised her hands to touch him, before pulling back and tearing at her own hair. “How did this happen?” she asked, distraught.
“Bree,” Reuben said as he walked towards Amon’s body. “There’s nothing any of us can do for him.”
“He killed Skoll,” Frankie explained as she looked down at the body in her arms. Elijah was cold and still. “I need a healer…”
The Valkyrie bit her lip and shook her head. “Look at him, Furie…”
Frankie pulled him closer and dropped her head to sob into his hair. He smelled like ozone, magic, and dead flowers. She choked. “They can’t take him,” she cried. “Anyone who tries to take him from me, dies.”
Bree stood up and wiped her eyes as she turned around. Elijah’s blast of magic and power had flattened a lot of the land, and had cracked open a bluff down a slope. She frowned as she crossed the field. The bluff had been cracked open, like an egg, and from the hole stepped a delicate, and extremely anxious, winged horse.
“Oh, goddess–” she gasped. “Pegasus! There’s a pegasus here!”
The rest of the warriors had reached them by now. Some carried with them severed heads cut from any of Skoll’s followers that had been found hiding in the burned out thicket. Bree, along with several Furies and Valkyrie, ran down the slope and crossed the empty riverbed to reach the exposed cave. Three of the winged horses were out in the moonlight now, snorting anxiously and pawing at the ground.
When approached by the group, the pegasus reached out to smell the hands that were reaching for them. One of the Furie warriors went into the cave, only to appear back again a minute later. “There’s more here,” he called, “and a sacred pool!”
“A pool…” Frankie repeated. She shifted Elijah in her arms, preparing to lift him, when Reuben stepped next to her, a battered, broken, and bloody Amon leaning on his arm. She stared up at the Storm demon in shock, as she almost didn’t recognize him. His face was swollen, bloody, and bruised. He was missing half of one horn. His hair was tattered and much of it burned away. He was half-naked and a lot of his skin was gone from the power of the blast. When he saw Elijah in her arms, his golden eyes widened and rumbled a raspy, heartbroken cry.
Frankie was quick to move away so Amon could claim Elijah’s body, cradling him in his arms and burying his face in Elijah’s neck.
“Amon–” she choked. She reached out and touched his shoulder, but his tail whipped out and hit her, and when he looked at her, his eyes were black and manic. She stepped away. “Amon, listen to me…”
But Amon wasn’t listening. He roared in pain, sobbing as he held Elijah’s body against him. His mate was dead; their magical connection was broken. He couldn’t hear his heart, he couldn’t feel any life in him. “Elijah–”
“Amon,” Frankie pleaded loudly and desperately. “Amon, fucking listen to me! There is a sacred pool down in that cave. If you hurry, maybe you can–maybe the water can heal him!”
Amon didn’t want to listen to her. Elijah was gone. He placed his hand over his heart, but he didn’t feel anything there. He reached out with his weak magic, desperate to find a connection. There was nothing, only silence and the growing scent of dead flowers. The smell of death.
He tried again to push his magic into Elijah’s body as he held him. Around them the fires were dying down, and he could hear the celebration from the others over the pegasus being found, along with Skoll’s head. He ignored them, hating them. How dare they celebrate–
There was a spark of something, and it touched his magic. He jerked his head up, staring down at Elijah’s lifeless face. With a grunt he pushed to his feet. He was shaking and nearly fell over, but out of pure determination he stayed on his feet and limped towards the bluffs where Elijah had previously disappeared into.
He fell down the slope, sliding on his backside, but he didn’t let it jostle Elijah from his arms. He struggled back to his feet again and stomped past Otherkin and more pegasus as they emerged into the night. He shoved past a Furie and a Valkyrie and limped down the short tunnel until he was walking into a immense cavern, empty now. The light being thrown off by the tree was fading, and the cavern and all it’s crystals were growing dim.
The pool of water was sacred because of the leafless, white tree growing out of the center. It was a tiny portion of the All Tree, a sprout that had grown into the Otherworld from the Beyond. They were not unheard of, but many of the trees had long died and petrified. This one was dying now, it’s light fading.
Amon jumped down into the water. The crystal clear water was soon clouded by that of their blood. He looked down at Elijah, his pale face lightly illuminated by the tree’s light. Never had he seen his mate look so small and fragile, not even when the phantasm had been killing him. He choked on a sob as he lowered Elijah into the water and frantically tried to wash the blood off of him.
While the light was fading, he could still feel the heavy vibration of magic. It was humming through the walls and crystals, and the sound was similar to the ringing in his ears. He rumbled anxiously.
“Give him back to me,” he begged as he looked at the tree in front of him, and its wide canopy of branches that stretched out over the pool. “I know you can do it. Rumors have said it’s happened before. Give him back to me!”
The water was clearing up again, and Amon noticed that all his injuries were healing as the water lapped against him. He snarled. “Don’t heal me!” he shouted. “Not me! Him! Heal him!”
There was no answer, and the tree’s light continued to dim. Amon shook his head, holding Elijah down in the water, letting it cover his face. He couldn’t see anything different with his mate; his wounds were not healing, nor his burns. He could still see the bones in his hands and arms, and the gaping wound on his chest.
He had seen the final impact, he had woken up just before it happened. He had leaned up and saw Elijah’s lightning gathering above them, but worst of all, he had seen it starting to tear through Elijah’s skin, bursting out of him like a bomb. He had screamed for Elijah to stop, but it was too late. The lightning had struck from above, then burst out of Elijah and through the sword, tearing off the warlord’s head and flattening the landscape.
He wished he could say he was proud of his mate. He had just done the impossible. But Amon didn’t care about Skoll’s death or the pegasus. He only cared about one thing. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, again trying to push his magic into Elijah’s body.
“Give him back,” he growled, before he again began to cry. “He saved everything. Even you.”
The silence closed in around him as did the darkness. He thought about letting himself sink below the water with Elijah, letting himself die, at least then they could be together in the afterlife. If he was banished to some afterlife for those who did evil, he would just have to fight his way out to find him–
Claws sank into his arm and Amon jumped in surprise. He looked down just as Elijah lurched out of the water, gasping and choking on the water that had filled his lungs. He leaned away from Amon as he vomited water and blood, before he straightened up.
Amon couldn’t speak, he dared not breathe or move, he just watched with wide eyes as the water washed away Elijah’s wounds, much like it had his own. His hands and arms were healed, the gaping, burned hole over his heart was nothing but a faded scar now. Amon had his arms around him and was keeping him from sinking back under the water as he gathered himself.
Elijah was shaking, and he couldn’t stop. At first he couldn’t see or hear anything. He could feel anything. He was stuck in a dark void, alone and senseless. Then he felt a spark of magic, and it wasn’t his magic. It was pushing against him, searching for a connection. His own magic, which he would have thought was gone, reached out, grabbed it, and everything lit up again.
He blinked rapidly as his vision slowly came back. Then his hearing. He realized with a start he was cold and in water, and there were warm around him. His muscles were twitching causing his limbs to move involuntarily. He felt like he was being jump-started back to life again. Had he been dead? He couldn’t remember.
Then his sense of smell came back in a rush and all he could smell was Amon.
Amon was holding him. He exhaled and slumped forward and as expected, Amon pulled him close and embraced him. He had his ear pressed on the demon’s chest and could not only hear his pounding heart, but his struggle to breathe without choking.
Was Amon crying?
He cleared his throat, but when he spoke, it was still weak and raspy. “What happened?”
Amon didn’t answer at first. For the second time in their short time together Elijah had beaten death. Darkness had closed in around them as the last of the light from the tree shimmered out, and the water was growing cold. He let out a loud, shaking breath as he rejoiced.
“I thought I lost you,” he said.
“Was I dead?” he asked as he opened his eyes. At first the darkness shocked him, and he thought he had gone blind again. But when he turned around to look, he did see dim light in the tunnel. Then he realized where they were, and he wondered how they got here. What did he remember last?
His mother, that’s what he remembered. She had stepped from a mist to greet him, but after hugging him, she had tearfully kissed his forehead, and then shoved him away. Next thing he knew, he was waking up under water and struggling to breathe.
“...you were, yes,” Amon was speaking. The dark didn’t stop him from seeing his mate’s face, his fierce blue eyes currently shaded with confusion and fear. He kissed his face and tried to soothe him. “I thought you were gone forever.”
Elijah frowned. He didn’t like the darkness here; it was so empty and quiet and the cold was settling into his skin. “Can we get out of here?” he asked shakily. “I’m freezing, and it’s too dark. It feels like… like we’re in a tomb.”
Amon nodded. Now, mostly healed, he easily stepped out of the water while carrying his mate. He knew that once they were outside that others were going to want Elijah’s attention, so he held him close and told him how much he loved him.
“I love you, too,” Elijah said as they walked through the tunnel towards growing light and voices. He frowned. “I should have said it earlier. I should have said it before all this went down.”
Amon shook his head. “No, you–”
“I died,” Elijah interrupted as the realization finally sank in. “I died, and you would have never known.”
“I knew, Elly. I knew.”
…
“What? Rax, you can’t be serious!” Elijah argued in disbelief.
Rax’s lips twitched into a soft smile. Once again he offered Elijah a silver key. “Take it, Elijah.”
“But this is your home, Rax.”
Rax shook his head. “One of several,” Rax said. “Elijah, take the key. I already moved out my belongings. And besides, it’s the least that I can do for you for failing to see your text message. So please, take the key and accept my apology.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” Elijah said with a frown. “You were in a swamp, hunting a bounty. I honestly didn’t expect anyone to get my message and then to respond like they did. Rax, really–”
“Elijah, just take the damn key.”
Elijah sighed and held up his open hand. When the key was placed in his palm, he smiled at the large red demon. Rax couldn’t hide the guilt from his eyes. “Fine. Do you feel better now?”
“Slightly,” Rax said with a smile.
“Well, don’t forget to stop by,” Elijah said as he tucked the key away in his pocket. “You’re always welcome.”
“He’s not,” Amon argued from where he waited in the den. Rax had left most of the furniture and appliances, but everyone else, including his weapons and treasures, had been taken. There was a lot of empty space that Amon couldn’t wait to fill with things that belonged to him and Elijah. But he wouldn’t be telling Rax that.
Rax smirked at the other demon. In the aftermath of the battle, Amon had recovered his broken horn and had it reattached with bolts and a gold band. It would never actually heal back together, and he would no longer have feeling it again, but at least it was there. He had also been forced to shave off a good deal of his hair from being damaged by fire, but he looked like Elijah had braided what hair was left. Rax imagined that the demon was healing just fine with many soft kisses from his mate.
He frowned and shifted on his feet. “Well, I should get going,” Rax said as he turned back to Elijah. “I have to meet a goblin in Ironwood City about a job. He was most insistent.”
“Bye,” Elijah said as blue fire rushed over the demon, and then he was gone.
Elijah took a deep breath as he looked around. There was a new traveling mirror leaning against the wall, though this one was properly covered to keep any unwanted visitors out. It was also magically bound to its sister mirror, in Elijah’s apartment in Ironwood City. He still needed to learn how to use magic things, but traveling by mirror was far easier than opening doorways with a key.
He walked into the den where Amon waited for him. He wore only a pair of sweatpants and his long tail was slowly flicking beyond him like a curious cat’s. He had done what he could to fix Amon’s hair, even though the demon didn’t seem bothered, saying, “This isn’t the first time I’ve had to lose my braids,” but he still felt a little guilty at how badly he had unintentionally hurt the demon during the fight.
Elijah reached back to touch his own hair. He had been forced to cut a lot of it, and hated how short it was.
“It’ll grow back,” Amon said as he saw him fretting again.
Elijah sighed. “I know it will, but I still hate it,” he said. He crossed over to the demon and then sat on the sofa. Outside it was a bright, sunny day, even brighter with all the snow. He smiled softly at the demon. “How does it feel?”
Amon walked over to him. “How does what feel?”
Elijah gestured around. “Having a home.”
Amon rumbled as he sat down and leaned over his mate. “You’re my home, Elijah,” he said. “Since I found you, I’ve been complete. Finally happy. What about you? Are you happy? Are you… happy with me?”
He tilted his head in surprise. Reaching up he cupped the demon’s face. “What kind of question is that?”
“I just need to know,” Amon said. “I never want you to feel like you can’t tell me things. Even things that may hurt me.”
“Oh,” he said as he shook his head. “Amon. Of course I’m happy with you. I love you.”
It seemed to be all he needed to hear, because he purred and was shoving his hand down Elijah’s pants. Elijah’s laughter faded into a moan and he laid back on the sofa, pulling Amon down over him. It didn’t take long to get naked, only when Amon shifted them around, so he was sitting with Elijah in his lap, he stopped to laugh.
Amon frowned and turned to see what was so funny. Outside one of the large, picturesque windows stood two pegasus. One was watching them while the other pawed through the snow to find grass to graze on.
The demon grunted and rolled his eyes. “And just how long are they going to hang around here?”
“I think they like me,” Elijah laughed.
“You fed them all the fruit in the house, didn’t you?”
Elijah blinked and purposely pouted his lips and feigned innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Amon rumbled. The two equines turned their attention to each other, rearing and dancing through the snow, flapping their wings and kicking at each other as they ran around. Pegasus around the house wasn’t uncommon, ever since they returned here, so did the creatures. Amon thought that Elijah was right: they did like him.
His attention was drawn back to Elijah who had his hands around his cock. He groaned loudly. “Ah… Elijah…”
Elijah smirked as he stroked Amon until he was fully hard and his cock was leaking cum. Then he shifted and, with Amon’s help, sat down on his cock. He moaned and whined, rocking forward and back as he filled. He grasped Amon’s shoulders with his claws and kissed him.
It had only been four days since the events at the Olympian Meadows. Four days since the pegasus were let back into the world and had spread out over many different dimensions. Four days since magic had grown bright again, and rumors started to surface. Someone had seen a dragon rising from its cave of treasures. A sprite claimed he saw a unicorn in a swamp. A male Valkyrie had been born just this morning according to Bree. Other Valkyrie were finding their Fated mates.
And perhaps the most miraculous of things, it had been four days since the Furies and Valkyrie of Ironwood City had called a delicate truce to pursue common interests: keeping the pegasus safe. Once upon a time ago, both Otherkin had used the winged horses as mounts in war. Elijah didn’t think the pegasus would be willing to go back to such things, but they could use the extra protection as they gained their strength and magic back.
Frankie had also, albeit begrudgingly, suggested that Elijah reached out to Bree and asked for her help in training him to use his powers. No one wanted a repeat of what happened in the Olympian Meadows. And he promised to do just that, after an extended period of rest.
“You did all this, Elly,” Amon praised him as they moved together. “All this… is because of you…”
Elijah moaned as he rocked with the demon’s upward thrusts. “Amon–” he gasped. “Amon I… I’ve been thinking…”
Amon grunted as he leaned in to kiss his mate’s neck. “You want to talk now?”
Elijah laughed and slapped the demon’s shoulder. “I do want your bite.”
He sat back in surprise. “Huh?”
“I thought about it,” he said between heavy breaths. “I didn’t think I wanted it. But I do.”
“You…” Amon rested his hands on Elijah’s hips to stop him from moving. “You have so many scars. I don’t want one to be caused by my teeth, Elly.”
Elijah smiled lovingly and touched the demon’s face. “How about we give one to each other?”
“You want me to bear your mark as well?” he asked.
“Do you want that?”
“I would like nothing more,” Amon said warmly.
They moved together, taking their time, leaving bruises on each other’s skin. When they were both close, Amon leaned forward and nuzzled Elijah’s hair to the side and bit the back of his neck. But unlike a lot of mate scars, it wasn’t big or terrible, it was enough to show that Elijah belonged to someone, but the scar would not be terribly visible to anyone not looking for it. He felt Elijah’s flinch and squeak of pain, and he was quick to lick the blood away and kiss it–
Elijah sank his small fangs into Amon’s neck and the demon flinched. While Amon’s bite had been gentle, Elijah had bitten him like he was tearing into a tough steak. The demon laughed. “Ouch, sweet.”
The omega’s face burned with a dark blush. “Hey–I don’t have experience biting others.”
Amon didn’t care. He laughed and he kissed him, and together they came, riding waves of pleasure while comforting each other with soft kisses and touches.
Hours later, Elijah sat in front of the fireplace in the main den, dressed in his most comfortable clothing with a blanket around him, and his sketchbook set off to the side. The book was open to sketches of the winged horses that had been hanging around outside the house.
“Here,” Amon said as he joined him, and held out a cup of tea.
Elijah took the mug and made room for Amon to sit with him. As usual, the demon was drinking his favorite grog from a wine skin. Elijah thought the demon brew tasted terrible, but he didn’t mind kissing it from his lips.
“Did you open the newest packages?” Amon asked.
“Yeah,” Elijah said. “There were some… odd things.”
Amon chuckled. Once word spread of what Elijah had done, he had become a folk hero overnight, and Frankie had been forwarding many packages to them from Otherkin. There were many letters, in different languages, thanking Elijah for what he did. The gifts were extremely diverse. Everything from a rock a child found and sent to him, to jewels and gold. There were also many invitations for Elijah to join hordes, clans, and military campaigns. He politely declined all these invitations by not replying at all.
But there were fun things as well. He had received a good deal of treats and foods from other realms, and bottles of wine and demon brew, tea leaves, and other snacks. With the gold and silver, he had also received a fossilized dragon egg, clothing items ranging from leather boots to cloaks, robes, and even some pieces of armor. There was also jewelry, much of it far too extravagant and rich for him to ever want to wear or even keep, and he had already shared much of it with Frankie. Many of the rings were far too big for his fingers and Amon had expressed interest in a few of them. He had received some lovely art pieces that were not his style, and he had sent them to Reuben, however the angel expressed that he was mostly interested in Elijah’s own artwork.
There had been a slew of different weapons, which Elijah was happy with, and he and Amon had started to fill their armory. However, the only weapon he wanted was his mother’s sword. Yesterday Bree had called a meeting with him, and she had presented the sword to him. It had been damaged in the final attack, but the Valkyrie had not only repaired the damage, but had polished it and supplied him with a new sheath for it.
Now it was displayed on the fireplace, and he couldn’t wait to start training with it.
He had so many things he wanted to do, and now he could actually do them all. He wasn’t such an anomaly anymore. Skoll was dead and gone, burned and buried. He was free to do what he wanted, go where he wanted, be who he wanted. He was finally, after far too long, free. Free of the weight that had been pushing him down, free of the pressure that he had to save the world, free of everything.
He laughed and shook his head.
Amon looked at him. There was a bandage on the back of his neck where his scar was healing. Amon proudly displaced the mark on his neck from Elijah’s teeth. “What’s so funny?”
Elijah continued to shake his head. “Nothing. It just hit me that I’m finally… free. I can do whatever I want. I don’t have to worry about some warlord coming to kill us. I can be myself now. I can go places. I can do whatever I want.”
Amon smiled and rested his arm around Elijah and they sat together in front of the fire. They had both gone through so much in the last few months, and if Amon had been told that this was where his life would have ended up after he was summoned out of that hell, he wouldn’t have believed them. In fact, he probably would have killed them. But now he had a home. He had a mate. He had found out what it truly meant to live and had finally, for the first time in his life, felt love. Somehow, despite everything, he had found the missing piece to himself, and he was finally whole.
He held up his wine skin and touched it to Elijah’s mug of tea. “I’ll toast to that.”
THE END