When I return to the death temple my Sprite is gone.

Hanish went with her, according to the recruits assigned to patrol. She took Poppy and the old male, the Patriarch, as well.

Nothing that would anger me, except that she went back to the Fourth District. Esa told me how spanking can be erotic and pleasurable. I should consider it.

When I land at the burned husk of the house that we rescued Poppy from I find my terrified little baby clutching Death's Patriarch and crying silently as her mother sorts through the still-smoldering ash of the house.

I gently take Poppy from the old male as he gives me a strained smile of thanks.

"Shh, poppet. Papa's here," I pat her back as she turns to me to weep in my arms. Scowling, I stalk closer to my errant female.

"You burned their bodies before they were given any rites, Captain," she snaps at me before I can say anything. Bending, she scoops up ash from the house into the clay jar. I stare at her gently rounded ass. Her fiery temper is seductive all on its own, but it does little to dull my anger with her.

"Their souls are trapped here. I had to spend hours in the library looking for a solution," she continues to scold me.

Eyes are watching us. Hostile gazes as they look out on the Recondite Captain who showed such violence towards their own and the female they blame for his merciless actions.

I let me wings spread out a little, the talons on my hands click together in a show of readiness. Let these Fourth House bastards come at me.

Hanish approaches me warily. "Captain."

"Why did you allow this?" I growl out.

Hanish nods, accepting blame. "She is stubborn, your female, and..." he takes a deep breath, eyes going to the red-haired baby in my arms before his voice drops lower. "She was agitated, Captain. Pale, distressed. I could feel it, Captain. I could feel the god, Death himself, in the air around her."

"My female brought our child here, to this place that holds such horrific memories. She has endangered both herself and Poppy. You couldn't bring this to my attention earlier?"

He reddens, his stare slightly accusatory. "I heard where you were, Captain. Didn't know if you wanted to be interrupted."

"Anywhere I am, you fucking interrupt me, understand?" I rub Poppy's back soothingly when she flinches at my tone.

He nods, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he turns back to scan the neighborhood for threats.

I shouldn't explain myself. No one, other than Belen, needs to know that the Captain of the Recondites went to ask a prostitute how to please a female.

But Hanish is a trustworthy male. "I was merely asking her questions. I can't remember anything about pleasuring..." my voice trails off as I recall the bundle of innocence nestled in my arms.

Hanish snorts, then barks out a laugh. "Sounds like you, Captain." He relaxes, clapping me on the back. "Where's Belen?"

"He is busy not asking questions," I tell him wryly.

Hanish barks another laugh. "Belen? Your love is a contagion, Captain. Belen's not the type."

A soft shriek of dismay meets my ears.

My stomach flips. How could I take my eyes off of my female for even a moment? I turn to see shadows moving around Mara, swirling ash and debris in whirlwinds that I know are malevolent.

I shove Poppy into Hanish's arms and start running toward Mara. The shadows are battering her, tearing at her veil, her cloths. Her face is revealed, then her hair, unbound and whipping in the maelstrom.

I hit the edge of some hidden barrier just at the edge of the house. Growling, snarling, scales erupting and fangs bursting from my gums, I fight against whatever force is keeping me from my female.

Mara's outer cloak is torn away, whipping through the air, then fluttering down to the street as it leaves the cyclone surrounding her. She is breathing in shallow pants, her eyes dark pools of pain and determination. Her lips are moving in a silent chant.

"Mara!" I roar, fighting against the barrier. She is bleeding, small wounds, scratches from the shadows that are attacking her. My demon starts to snarl, low and deep, a warning to the spirits who dare to harm our female. We fight, step by step, achingly slow, to her side.

I plunge my clawed hand into the first shadow I can reach. It feels of flesh and bone, as real and corpulent as I am. I search, plunging, again and again, until I feel the heart beating in my palm. I yank it out, the blackened, bloody organ pulsating in my fist.

Mara cries out, just my name, "Thelios!"

I grapple with the other shadow. This one is faster, harder to hold as ash flies into my eyes and blurs my vision. I am sweating and bleeding, my muscles aching to strain against both the barrier and the insane shadow. With another roar, I plunge my fist into his back, up and under the ribcage, to yank the heart out of its chest.

Everything stops. The wind, abruptly ceases. Blood dripping, I stare at my shaking, crying female. Biting her trembling lip, she kneels and scoops up the heart from the first shadow and puts it into the jar. When she holds the jar out for me I drop the second heart inside.

"I'll bury these and they'll be at rest," she explains in a soft, weak voice.

I grab her around her waist and pull her into my body. She sags against me. "What the fuck did you think you were doing?" I ask. "Was that barrier your doing?" At her nod, I growl, "don't prevent me from coming close to you, love. Not ever."

"They were screaming, Thelios. In my head. They wouldn't stop," she says to me, her breathing still too shallow.

I pick her up and carry her from the house. Ash has covered every surface in the neighborhood, coating it in a fine white-grey powder. It's looks like a village of ghosts. Those eyes that stared at us so angrily earlier are now shuttered inside their homes and shops, frightened.

"Are you finished here, my female?" I ask her.

"I'm finished. Let's leave. This place is bad for Poppy," Mara whimpers as I stalk over to Hanish.

I pick up our baby and kiss both my females on the forehead. "Let's hmm?"

Mara's wary eyes catch mine just a moment before I take off towards the temple.

---

My head is swimming. I feel as terribly as I did when I cut the bond between Sera and Tafia. My limbs are shaking, my vision blurry. I bury my face in Poppy's hair and just let her scent, mixed with Thelios', soothe my senses.

We land and Thelios' jostles us a little. Vaguely I hear him speak in his low rumble. Then Poppy disappears.

I whimper, panicked. I made a mistake, bringing her back to that place, but I couldn't leave her.

"Shh, she's fine, love. Time to bathe," Thelios' says to me with a dark promise in his voice.

I feel my robes being pulled from my body. I protest slightly, but Thelios is just bathing me in the pool.

I rest against his chest, feeling as weak as a kitten, while he scrubs me clean.

"Where is the jar?" I mumble against his chest.

"Patriarch Salbin is taking care of it, Sprite," he murmurs. His fingers are in my hair, gently pulling the knots free.

"That feels good," I murmur.

"Does it?" he responds in a silky voice.

I smile, "mmhmm."

"Hungry?"

"Starving," I whisper. I don't even care if it's his blood I'm aching for. I'm too tired to worry about it.

I feel him turn me, the cool stone at the side of the pool on my cheek. "Thelios?" I ask, picking my heavy head up.

A stinging slap on my bottom wakes me up instantly. "What are you doing?" I ask him, furious.

"That was for not informing me of your insane little plan, Sprite," he replies calmly.

Another smack, then he strokes over my curves. "That was for bringing our baby back to her nightmare." A pause, then another smack, "I think you deserve two for that, actually."

I squirm, furious. "You had better stop that right now, Captain!"

Another smack, "that's for that barrier you threw up without letting me inside it, first," he growls. His fingers soothe my skin again, squeezing a little on the burning flesh.

I wiggle, confused. I'm hot and everything feels heavy and tired... and needy.

Gently, Thelios turns me back around in his arms, holding me flush to his body. "I love you, my fire sprite." His mouth covers mine. I melt into him, forgetting all about his high-handedness. He's right about a few things. I messed up today. Even my father is furious with me, silent in his anger.

I could have died. I felt it, the shadows battering me, wounding me bit by bit. I was trapped in that maelstrom of my own creation and without Thelios I would have been killed. How many times has this male saved me, now?

"I'm sorry," I whisper against his lips.

"I know," he murmurs back. He gathers me closer, and I become aware of... him... poking my thighs.

I pull back, fast. I'm sure I look crazy. His grey eyes are startled, then knowing. Looking down, his erection bobs just at the top of the sacred pool.

"When you're ready, Sprite," he teases me with a soft chuckle.

I feel my face heat up. I probably look like a tomato. He is... very large. Granted, all I've ever seen of males have been dead, flaccid organs that aren't impressive at all. They're ugly, to be honest. Like white worms dangling uncomfortably from between their legs. Inconveniently located, if you ask me.

Except Thelios isn't limp, dead flesh. He's very, very much alive. My eyes are drawn back down. "It's very large," I comment politely.

He laughs softly. "For you, my Flame." His thumb strokes my cheek gently.

I'm transfixed. A vein travels the length of him and it's pulsing as much, maybe more, than the one in his neck. My fangs protrude and I remember how hungry I am.

"Let's not bite my dick, alright?" he says in a soft, teasing tone.

I look up at his face, startled. He laughs again, tapping my fangs with his finger. "Neck or wrist, only, Sprite."

He reaches behind me to the edge of the pool and grabs a knife. Bringing it up to his neck, he slices.

This time I don't argue, I don't even flinch at the sight of him cutting into his own flesh for me. His blood is beautiful, red and healthy.

I lean into him and press my mouth over the wound. He moans and I echo the sound.

"It feels so fucking good when you do that, Sprite," he pants slightly into my hair.

I drink until the burning hunger abates. When I pull back I'm happy to see his grey eyes bright on me, no signs of disgust or weakness. Not in my male.

"I'm ready," I hear myself say. His eyes flare wide. I smile. "For you, Thelios. I'm ready."

"Are you sure, love?" he whispers.

"Yes," I reach down and touch him. He's velvety soft, the oils of the pool making him slick. He sucks in a breath when my fingers skim over him, stomach muscles tightening.

I giggle.

"What?" he asks in a low voice, smiling.

"When you clench your muscles this demon looks like he's winking at me."

He looks down and snorts. "Tell him to keep his eyes to himself."

I start to laugh "Eye, you mean? There's a sword through one eye, my love."

Thelios cuts me off when he kisses me again with urgency. Lifting, he places me just at the edge of the pool, my bottom on the stone, my legs dangling in the water.

His hands, rough and calloused, skim over my body, touching and pulling, caressing me as that heat blooms. I touch him back, feeling the muscles flex and move in his chest, his back, his arms.

Something is building in me as the need gets higher and higher. His fingers find my center, stroking the soft folds and sending my need exploding. My body wants more, more of this, more of him. It snaps, the feeling in my body soaring.

I latch onto his neck, over his healing wound. My fangs sink in, the taste of him pouring into me even as he slides into me, hard and heavy.

The twinge of pain is forgotten almost immediately. I drink while he shudders, gasping, hips bucking. His arms wrap around me, pulling me tight to him. I pull away from his neck, staring into his eyes. He stares back, both of us stunned a little, I think.

"What just happened?" I whisper.

"We just fucked," he whispers back, eyes wide on me. "In your father's pool."

He jolts, suddenly, his body bowing, face grimacing in pain. "Shit, Sprite."

He hurries out of the pool with me in his arms. Wrapping me in a clean robe, he leaves me swaying on my feet while he pulls his pants on. Snatching up his weapons, he gathers me up in his arms again and jogs out of the room.

"You know my father is a god and can see you, right?" I whisper, bemused at the wary look in his eyes.

"He shocked the hell out of me in there," he explains. "I think I wore out my welcome in the sacred pool." Then he grins down at me. "But you have a bed, Sprite."

I pull his head down and kiss him. "What about the baby?"

"With Postite Banio in the kitchen. I'm sure she's eating sweetbread like a little piggie," he says fondly. "We have time," he adds huskily.

---

I spit out the blood churning in my gut, burning my throat, onto the stone ground of the cavern. The triumph of being freed from my chains is gone; obliterated by the debilitating agony that courses through my body.

This pain is of my own making. This feeling of my Fated, my pure soul, being claimed by another male.

I feel like I've lost her. Stupid of me, isn't it? I lost her long ago. My own fault. But... I had hope. Hope that I could win her love back, if I could just explain. Fuck, I would have begged her to forgive me and I honestly can't remember a time that I ever truly apologized for anything. For her I would go to my knees.

My Fated isn't mine anymore. I still love her, but she has fallen in love with another male.

And here I am, unchained but still trapped. We can't leave the cavern, we've all tried. This place is a trap, a cage.

They, the warriors, the Recondite, even Patriarch Rimon, call me Lord Thane, as if my position and title have followed me into this Underworld pit.

But here I am nothing but the Trainer. That's all I am. I push my warriors, time and again, to be better, faster, stronger. That's our entire existence here. Train, sleep, wake up and train some more.

I should be asleep. I'm exhausted. Another irony, because we're all dead and we don't eat, yet we sleep as if we still live in Tmari.

I heave out an irritated breath and flip over onto my stomach, only to flip back to my back once again.

"Trouble sleeping?" a sweet, feminine voice greets my ears.

I am on my feet, sword in hand, just a moment later. "Holy fuck," I whisper softly. It's my Parijan.

"Pari?" I whisper softly.

She smiles at me, seductively, and the illusion is shattered instantly. My Parijan doesn't know how to be seductive. Before her recent activities she was an innocent.

I step backward, bringing my sword up defensively. "You are not her. Who the fuck are you?"

Her eyes, so like my own Parijan's, but a few shades lighter I see now, darken at my questions. Her hair is a touch too dark, Parijan has red hair the color of a sunset. Her eyes are wider set and her mouth is not as lush as my Fated.

"I am Love," she says softly.

I take a step backward. Love. The goddess is here.

"How did you get here?" I ask.

"It took many attempts, many, many tries, but I finally managed to ride a soul, who your sweet Fated blessed, down here.

"My Fated," I say, dumbly. "Will I have this connection to her, always?" I rasp out, blinking to try to clear the spots from my vision.

"Yes," she responds with enthusiasm.

"Is he a good male, a strong male?" I rasp out, changing my questions to the ones burning inside of me.

She allows herself a laugh so harsh it makes her ugly for just a moment. "Only the best for the daughter of Nateos."

"Did Death form that bond with my Fated? Did he? It isn't... is my bond still there?" I rasp out question after question. I don't know why, I just need to torture myself with this.

"Your bonds are Fated. No one can take it away." Her eyes flash dangerously dark again.

What about the other male?" I ask her.

She scowls and I retreat. "That male," she spits, "is not meant to be with her.

"So she has two bonds? I don't understand, goddess."

"Let me show you the duplicity of the Death god, Thane," she says sweetly.

I am plunged into the pool again.

The Lady on the bedding of simple but finely-wrought linen screams, arching her back and nearly sitting up as pain ripples through her. Legs splayed, surrounded by no less than two midwives and three servants, she strains to give birth to the child tearing her apart.

The other female's faces are ashen. Worry hovers in the air along with the scent of blood.

Lady Kaimi is a pure-blood Tasuri. Birthing her children should be quickly done and without any complications. The females know what it means that she struggles so much. It is nothing good.

"Tell the Lord," one of the midwives, tattooed with the First House symbol on her left cheek, whispers to a servant with the same mark.

An hour passes by in just a moment. I watch as an infant is passed from midwife to servant.

My grandfather, Arim, takes the child and inspects him before handing him to my father.

"Take the babe for his first bath and announce his birth, Everard," Arim says with a smile. "Congratulations, he's perfect."

My father kisses my mother on the cheek, then leaves with his son. With me.

My gaze turns back to my mother. Weak, but smiling, sweaty. My grandfather dismisses all but the First House midwife.

My mother starts to strain again, panic erupting on her face. "What is happening?" she cries out.

"A twin," my grandfather spits out.

I watch with horror as another child slides out. My grandfather takes him from the midwife, a scowl of pure hatred on his face.

"Look here," he points out to the midwife. "Wings. Not just an abomination, but a half-bred one." His cold eyes travel over my mother, who is incognizant, barely awake after her struggle. "Take care of my daughter," he says to the midwife. "If she asks of the second one, tell her he died."

He walks away with my living brother in his hands.

"Your grandfather took the abomination to the desert and left him there to die," Love says to me.

I lie gasping on the stone floor. The pretty female frowns a little. "Natoes pitied it. Brought it here against the orders of the father god. Now that foul creature is walking the earth, while you are the one trapped in this pit."

She starts to fade away. "Why two bonds?" I gasp out.

"With two bonds, mortals would have a choice."

Then she's gone.