Screams travel long distances over the sand dunes. Every instinct in my demon's shade wants to run after my Flame. But, I'm weak. That fucking bitch's drugs still race through my body, slowing my heart, making my chest hurt from pulling too little air. Even my skin tingles and pricks in discomfort as my scales fight to the surface, only to be battered back inside the softer skin.

Pulling precious breathes into my lungs, I duck into an open tomb in the cliff face. I crouch down in the shadows, concentrating on slowing down my erratic breathing so that I can be silent. I can't run, can't fight, so I need to hide, to remember the training that Nateos offered in the tunnels. Silence can be the most deadly of weapons.

More screams of rage, of fear. Feet pounding the earth as they try to flee from the horror outside. Howls and hisses and the breaking of bones, the rending of flesh; it is all familiar.

I am a fucking monster. A lowly beast from the pits of the Underworld. I betrayed my Fated with the Love goddess and broke my promises to her father, the Lord of the Underworld himself.

My fingers sink into my hair, pulling and tugging as I try to think.

What do I do? I've destroyed my Sprite's home. I've abandoned her and Poppy. Led the war that has emptied the city of her friends.

My brother is by her side, now. I choke back the growl that is bubbling up in my throat. She's mine. Mara is my Fated. Poppy is my daughter. What is he? The male who let her go. Who betrayed her with another female.

So did I.

I yank even harder on my hair, biting my tongue to keep the whimpers at bay.

"Nateos," I say in the barest whisper, "please, find me worthy of her again. Don't let those few weeks be all I get. Please, Lord Death. Let me reclaim my family."

I hear nothing from the god. I hear nothing at all.

The desert is silent. I up down on one knee, assessing my body for weaknesses. My claws are out. Scales are still not emerging. I am not wounded, thank the gods.

I strain to listen. The faint scraping of stone is all I hear. I flex my claws again. I can't be sure what is happening outside of these stone walls.

I do another once over of my body. I feel stronger, the drugs fading. No fucking boots on my feet, I can thank that bitch Love for that. I shift my toes into talons and concentrate on the scales covering the soles of my feet. At least now I will be protected by the burning hot sand as I walk.

Why are my fucking boots always missing?

My wings... I can't remember what happened to them. I feel the remembered twinge of agony in my back. Love told me that it was Mara, but she must have lied. I saw the horror on my Sprite's face. Not to mention that my sweet female is hardly the type to mutilate her Fated no matter how angry she may be.

It had to have been Love. Bitterness twists in my gut as the realization steals over me. My wings... she did it to disguise me as Thane.

My hand searches for my medallion. It's missing. Love has it, hanging around her neck. I remember seeing the skull with the sword through its eye and the crown of lightning. It's a heavy, male's chain, out-of-place for her delicate, treacherous neck.

Gods. It's the necklace gifted to me by Nateos. It allows me entry to the Underworld. And Love has it in her possession. As a goddess, she doesn't need it to cross realms, but she can give it away to anyone she chooses.

I stand on steady legs. My arms are tight from tension. I work on loosening the muscles, careful to keep my movements small. I take a deep breath in, feeling better with every passing moment. I take a silent step toward the tomb entrance.

The slight skittering of claws over stone makes me freeze, crouching into a position ready to pounce.

"Eeeelloooshh?" the low hiss makes me focus on the small figure creeping toward me.

"Mishu?" I murmur when the orange eyes strike me. "Did you steal my boots."

"Nooo," he mumbles lowly, shuffling closer.

"Why are you all the way out here, little beastie?" I ask.

My question makes him scamper to me, climbing into my arms and huddling there. "Baaad," he whispers in his gravely hiss. He points to the tomb entrance.

"Yes, it's fucking bad, Mishu," I sigh softly. "I think... I may have killed Belen, Mishu. My only friend. What sort of fiend am I?"

He just coos and rests his head on my shoulder. I cautiously look out of the entrance of the tomb. I'm well enough to fight, now, but I can't be sure what nasty trick Love has up her sleeve for me now.

The desert is empty of others. The First House army is gone. No signs of the Forgotten grandmother or the goddess of Love. If not for the shreds of clothing, the splatter of blood on the sand, and the scattered weapons, I would never have thought a battle took place just a little while ago.

"Where the fuck is everyone? Where are the bodies, Mishu?" I ask out loud.

"Baaad."

I step outside and rub my hand over my face roughly. Another step and at my feet is stone rubble. I look down, frowning. Kneeling, I use my hand to wipe away some of the sand and stone fragments covering the surface. "What is it?"

"Dooorsss," Mishu hisses. "Baaad."

I look up and frown. All of the stone slabs that serve as doors for the tombs are broken. I don't understand why, but I know someone who may.

"Mara. Poppy. Gods, I have to get to the city."

---

We land in War. It's quite the scene of organized chaos as my winged monster of a former-fated-returned-from-the-literal-dead lands, deposits Poppy and I on the steps of the Recondite Mausoleum, then takes flight again without another word.

"Lady Mara?" the astonished voice asks me.

I turn to see Esa. Belen's Esa.

I look at her. At her soft eyes and surprised, delighted smile that slowly fades. I want to see her joyful for this moment, before grief steals her happiness.

"I'm sorry, Esa," I whisper.

The shadow of grief embroils her instantly. She dissolves, crumpling to the ground and weeping. What makes it worse is she doesn't deny my words. She doesn't scream or grow angry. Esa has been beaten down by life so often... and this just isn't fair. Now, when she and Belen have finally gotten their beautiful love story, he dies.

And his friend is the one who killed him.

Poppy clings to my neck, squeezing hard. I hug her back. A thin arm wraps around me. Tafia and Sera are here. My Basru only has three sets of wings. I can only wait while they rescue the Postites and Patriarch Salbin.

Wings.

Did that bitch saw off my Thelios' wings? How dare she? I have never felt so murderous in my life. She mutilates him, takes his memories, turns him into that cold First Recondite he was in my father's kingdom. He has destroyed my home, killed his friend, possibly fucked that whore. All because she is jealous that my father has a real daughter.

"Mama?" Poppy lifts her head, teary-eyed. She looks at me, confused at my shaking body.

"Go with Auntie Sera, Poppy," I tell the baby.

She nods, popping her fingers in her mouth. Sera takes her from my arms, her curious gaze watching me walk over to Esa.

I slowly fold my body, sitting next to her, and pull her into my arms. My tears soak my cheeks and I think it may be the closest I come to bathing in my pool now that my temple is destroyed.

"Esa, I swear to you I won't let Belen disappear into the Underworld."

Daughter

I don't heed my father's warning.

"There must be a way," I snap. "This will not stand! She is destroying everything... and she has taken my husband!"

"Your husband?" the deep, richly melodious voice of my other Fated sounds deeply hurt.

"Thane," I breathe, spinning to look at him. He has landed behind me, wings still spread out behind him. He glistens from sweat and blood, droplets mixing and rolling down over scaled muscles. His grey eyes look at me, wounded.

Slowly, the sadness leaves his eyes, a mask settling into place.

"Everyone is safe, my Lady," he states. "We are bringing back the bodies, now. The First House army is gone from the mountains. We sent trackers to follow them. They were heading due west into the desert."

"Thane-" my words of comfort that I am searching for fail me.

"Capin?" Poppy holds out her arms.

"I'm dirty, Strawberry," he says quietly.

"Capin, pick me up!" she demands.

He smiles weakly and takes her. "Let's find you and mama someplace to sleep tonight, eh?" he says quietly to her as he walks away.

"He loves you very deeply," Esa murmurs.

I look at her, blinking. "I am supposed to comfort you," I point out.

"Yes, but you're burning holes in my clothes and..." she helps me stand. "Having you here makes me believe you. I'll have my Belen back with me."

Listen to her story

My father still sounds faint. I look around helplessly. My Basru... my goodness, when did I start thinking of them as 'mine?' They are helping the warriors of War defend against the siege at the walls. I notice that one of them is always near, within a distance of only a few strides of me. Lier is greeting the remaining Recondites, their faces pure astonishment. I know he is explaining what he is, now, because of the looks that are being tossed my way.

It must be strange, to see me and think that all of these returned warriors are because of me. I know without finding a mirror that I must look like a pale, filthy wraith. Nothing like what the daughter of Nateos should look like.

"Lady Mara?" Esa gently prods me.

I look at her. We are still holding onto each other. "Tell me your story?" I ask her in a beseeching tone. I'm exhausted, but I know I won't be able to sleep. Not with my mind buzzing.

"My story?" she asks warily.

"My father... he wants me to listen to your story. He likes me to study, but my library..." my voice trails off.

"My Lady," Holsten interrupts us. "Where should we... place Belen?" he asks me carefully, with a glance towards Esa.

"The mausoleum."

We follow behind the body, Esa's body trembling in my arms. Once again, I am comforting her, shushing her soft cries and feeling the grief well up and pour into me.

Holsten directs the males holding Belen's corpse to lay him on one of the stone slabs.

I start to prepare the body. He's still a cat and I wonder if it's easier to see him this way or harder for Esa.

"Isn't he beautiful?" she whispers tearfully. "I only saw him this way once... there wasn't much time... but I thought he was so pretty with his dark fur..." she rambles. "I... I didn't tell him that because he's so proud."

I let her grieve, let the emotion swell and ebb and flow over us both. In the darkened interior of the mausoleum I can feel grief like its own living being, breathing with me, in and out with each breathe from my lungs.

My eyes drift closed as Esa's words wash over me.

"I was rejected. I grew up in the First House. Belen... he was the first male I ever truly loved after... he, my Fated, I mean... he was a cruel male... he hated that I was a poor Acera girl... He wanted to keep me as his mistress, but his family and his wife forced him to reject me and I was so angry... He ruined me. They... my family was poor and my sisters were... are... Acera like me. They had normal lives and his family... they were in debt. I sold myself to help my sisters... only to find that they banished me from their hearts..." her voice trails off. "Belen... isn't he pretty?"

Open your eyes daughter

I let my eyes open again. Belen smiles at me, his green cat eyes glowing. "Don't let me lose her?" he asks. I see the bond lines, love and hate twisting and curling out of his shade like ribbons. Gold and silver and bronze, dancing and twisting from him into nothing.

One blackened strand, frayed at the edges and thinner than the others, twists and curls into a weeping Esa. She is still talking, her lips moving, but I hear nothing.

I touch the black strand. It is thin, too brittle to last for long. Under my fingers, slick with my own oily tears, the ribbon brightens, flaring red as if my fingers are made of fire. I touch it, stroke it's sharp edges until my fingers bleed. The ribbon thickens to a rope of fire, strengthening as it thickens and grows, curling into a vine of steel between Esa and her dead lover.

I hear a snapping as if from a distance. One strand, silver and shining, comes flying to whip me in the face. Gasping in shock at the pain, I fly backwards, my fingers leaving the red strand. The silver one dances in front of me like a venomous snake. It is hollow in the center, empty.

I feel a cruel smile curl my lips. So much for Love's chosen bond. Take that, you bitch.

---

"Mara, Princess," I hold her trembling, weak body tight to mine, shaking her gently as her eyes roll back in her head. Gasping, she buried her face in my neck, her body still shaking.

"What happened?" I snarl at the female hovering over the corpse of the Recondite cat.

"She did... something," the female's teeth are chattering. The corpulent Postite comes forward, giving her a blanket and a mug of something warm. His eyes are kind on her.

"Yes, we all felt that she did something," I growl, irritated. Strawberry had just laid down to sleep when the very foundations of the buildings shook, just once. The entire fucking city decided to panic. The screams woke up the baby and I had to leave her with Ililie because my Lady needs me, too.

"She fixed it," the female declares. Her eyes are wide, pupils blown out in shock.

I gather my Princess closer. "Shit," I mumble. My neck is wet under her, but as teeth nibble I think that maybe it's her tongue, instead of her tears.

"I need privacy," I snap. I don't need everyone in War to know that my Lady drinks my blood and whatever she did, she must be hungry now.

"Bloodletter!" I shout, striding from the mausoleum.

The grey gargoyle scampers up, ears laid flat. I walk to the side of the mausoleum that is less crowded with soldiers and motion to the little beastie.

"She's hungry," I murmur in a low voice.

His round black orbs widened even more, making him look like a true creature of the night. He whimpers, showing me his empty hands.

"You don't have a vial?" I hiss.

He shakes his head, patting his rough, stone sides as if to show me his non-existent pockets are empty.

"Fuck! Can you find something? Can she drink from my wrist?"

He disappears.

"Bloodletter! Shit!"

My Lady has grown tired of our conversation, apparently. Sharp teeth sink into my neck just above my collarbone. I feel pain, then absolute euphoria. My demon lolls on the ground, black tongue hanging from his mouth as if he's suddenly decided to be an overgrown puppy. Staggering, I have to turn with my back against the stone wall, leaning on it for support as my knees fail me and my cock hardens.

"Shit," I mumble again. Mara snuggles closer, making a soft growling noise just like a predator over her kill.

"That's it, Princess," I murmur huskily. "Take what you need, my Lady."

She drinks, moaning and rolling her hips into my stomach. Her lips and tongue move on my neck in a sensual dance. Her hands travel over my shoulders, my chest. She rolls her hips and the sweet scent of her arousal fills the air.

Fuck. me. Sweat beads on my forehead. It takes every ounce of concentration to not spin her around, press her to the side of this building, and take what is offered.

No, she not offering it to you, I remind myself. She's just drinking. She's hungry and grieving and-

"Fuck, Princess," I moan as she rubs herself on me with little moans of her own. Her teeth aren't sunk into my neck, anymore. Her hunger for blood has abated, but she's still licking me.

She pulls away, her dark eyes bright with lust. Slowly, holding my gaze, her pink tongue flicks out and licks a drop of my blood from her lips. Tiny little fangs protrude white and gleaming as she smiles at me sexily.

"Princess, stop," I murmur gently, barely in control.

Slowly, the look of lust fades, replaced by horror.

"Thane!"

I wince. Here it comes, the denouncement as her lover. I'm just-

"You're hurt! I'm so sorry I just latched onto you like you're a meal!"

I laugh weakly, in relief. "That's not what hurts, Princess," I tease, my body still rigid from the control I'm fighting for.

She frowns curiously, before a blush spreads across her cheeks.

"Oh, my gods!" she scrambles out of my arms, her thigh hitting my rock-hard erection as she puts space between us.

I moan in agony.

"Sorry, oh, my gods, I'm sorry, I-" she turns and flees.

I remain where I am, closing my eyes and willing my body to just listen to reason. I try to think about something else, but her scent still envelopes me and I'm woozy from the blood-loss.

I feel something brush me through my pants and jump, hissing in pain from the abrupt movement.

Socks is standing in front of me, curiously poking my dick. One of the Rocks is behind him, chortling and snorting with amusement at my expense.

"Stop it, you little shits!" I hiss.

Socks giggles his harsh, grating laugh. Then, his ears lay flat and he starts to mimic swordplay with his arm held low on his body. Swinging his 'sword' at his brother, the other gargoyle immediately joins in the fun.

"Very funny, Socks and Rocks," I groan, as Socks pretends that his 'sword' was broken off with a look of mock horror on his face as his clawed hand dangles limp from his elbow.

Slowly, I peel myself off of the wall. At least watching Socks' mourn his broken sword makes my own wilt just a little.