A War on Death

Chapter Seven: Mortal Men

Verena

The silence never bothered me until now. The void where his annoying voice should be too great. I hate it. I hate him. So why do I feel so empty?

It's been two weeks. Erebus has practically disappeared, horribly broken yet healing the only way he knows how: alone. I dangle on the edge of ridicule and comfort, some part of me aggravated by how easy his mentality crumbled. The other side is set in a spiral of self-loathing. Words fail me continually, always scattering off my tongue every moment I beg to free them.

There's so much I want to say. So many things and yet too little time. How can eternity feel so shallow?

My mind is too distracted to do anything besides for what I'm made for. For the hunt. So here I am, dagger in hand, hood and mask covering my head, my eyes glinting in the dwindling sun. The spare blade in my hand feels wrong, but I haven't been able to touch the one I used to maim Erebus since that night.

The wood splits again, the torturous cracking as it rips apart against the steely axe swung by him. The mortal. He's been at this for hours, lurking in the clearing within the woods only a mile or so from town. Chopping wood with the aggression of man's practiced hand.

The blade slices too deep, caught between the weeping oak sap of the stump as it clings to his weapon, refusing to let any more trees be slaughtered. Can he not feel how the tree screams? Ironic as it may seem, us collectors of death cherish life: humans cannot.

He tries to jerk it out, agitation pumping through his veins as he struggles with the ancient bones of the earth. "Come on!" He bellows, his foot colliding with the handle of his axe, snapping it from the blade still wedged in the wood.

The pieces splinter, the wood joining its relatives in a pile by his feet. My eyes narrow, watching him closely as he looks towards the fallen axe, then to the ground. I gawk in amazement when he crouches down next to the stump, leaning against it and laying a palm over its chipped head.

His voice was but a mere whisper, almost inaudible: "I'm sorry..." The words were stained bitter by his soft tears, the salt tracing canyons down his dirt coated face. "Nothing is permanent, I know that. But... I thought you'd outlive us all." It was obvious he wasn't talking about the murdered tree... so who was he referring to? My eyebrows rose then fell like my chest, my lungs aching within the confines of my ribs.

I stood perched in the trees until he left long after the sun went down, his axe still buried in the trunk. I made my descent, trailing my way slowly to the blade gleaming in the moonlight. I ran a soft finger along its spine, the metal shaved to sharp perfection. The wind blew kisses against my face, causing the escaped strands of crystal white hair to dance against my cheek.

A gun cocked behind me and everything went still.

I could feel the change of pace within my soul, the awakening of a beast older than my creation. A being that was resurrected when I became what I am. A being that should've been buried in my mother when the sun gods led her to captivity.

A being that this little mortal should run screaming from.

"You're immortal, right?" His voice was stronger now, no longer the sensitive lover of the tree that now laid ruined at my feet. It held a certain grit. An amount of confidence that caused a slow chuckle to climb up my throat.

I turned slowly, my eyes glinting with warning to this mortal. "That I am." A threat. A question. A catalyst. I wanted to light the match that made him lose control.

"But you bleed, isn't that right?" The mortal steps closer, making sure to keep just out of my reach. Maybe mortals aren't all completely useless.

"That seems to be the case..." My words trail off as I study him. Ruby fires burning in my eyes.

"Why are you following me?" He barks out, voice determined and deep. My laughter bubbles up my chest, my tongue snaking across my lips.

"Because you survived a massacre... I want to know why."

He cocks a brow. "Because the guy who tried to kill me was a shitty shot—" he thrusts the gun closer— "But that's not why, is it?" Smart little thing.

"No, it's not." I grin at him, my lips stretching around my teeth.

He holds my gaze with unflinching confidence. My giddiness grows. "So what then? You aren't allowed to kill me, so what?"

"Oh darling... I can do anything I want to you." I step up to meet his gun, watching as he pushes it into my chest. It stabs into my breast, the sharp pain eliciting deep pleasure within me.

"Oh?" The mortal man grins. "Is that what you're here for?" His surprise is delicious. "Are all-powerful, immortal men not good in bed?"

"Something like that," I purr. Eyes glinting with desire.

"Are you even female?" He questions, eyes trailing up and down my body.

"In the best ways."

"So, what? You're eliciting my... help?" I smirk a feline smile.

"Not up to the task?" I tease, stepping closer.

He hesitates, pupils growing as he looks me up and down. He matches my height, about six and half feet of pure male. Sculpted and handsome. Determined at my challenge.

He removes his gun from my chest, tossing it to the side before his hands dig into my hair, tugging me towards him. His lips crash against mine, our bodies colliding. My hands roam his skin, his naked torso still glistening from sweat from the hour prior.

"How far can I go?" He breathes against me. I shudder at his possessive touch, the tilting of his deep voice. I'm not used to this. To this physicality. I'm withdrawn, never once indulging in the mortal pleasures that Erebus has. But with the crater in my heart still throbbing even as I begged time to make me forget, this is the only way I will ignore the pain that has been sitting atop my lungs for the past weeks.

"What is it you mortals say...?" I trail off, trying to find the word. "Make me feel good. Fuck me."

"You're a wild card, aren't you?" He murmurs against my lips, his smile making butterflies massacre one another in my stomach.

"Wanna get lucky?" I trail my tongue along his throat, lapping at his Adam's apple while his grip turns brutal on my waist.

He pulls me away from him, spinning us fast and pinning me against a nearby tree. I hit the bark with a grunt, a coy smirk toying across my lips. "You like it rough, baby?" The man asks, gripping my throat with a strength I didn't think he'd have. "You want me to be mean?" Desire streaked across my skin, my blood, once human, now coursing with magic.

My magic soared from my skin, my eyes burning with want and need, and, even though he was mortal, he understood. He could read me in a way only magic could. What we shared was magic. I wanted more. I needed more.

His mouth latched onto mine, his fingers delving beneath my clothes. I looked to the moon, it's light winking at me with a certain understanding. Right before my eyes squeezed together from pleasure, large wings blocked out the moonlight, my spine locking into place before hatred fueled my thoughts and actions.

I grabbed the mortals jaw, turning his carnivorous mouth to my neck, locking eyes with my rival as he landed in the nearby canopy, eyes blazing with possession.

What he will learn soon enough is that I belong to no man. I cannot be owned.

He'll learn that I am not the same weak girl his sister trained. I'm not her. I'm not her copy. She may be deadly, she may be brutal.

What he'll come to realize is that I'm so much worse. Emotions don't make you weak if you sharpen them to a point of no return.

A moan skated past my lips, my eyelashes shielding me from his scrutiny as I dove into the lake of pleasure offered in front of me. Let me drown before I reemerge cleansed of all feeling but rage.