⚜️What Is Dead May Never Die⚜️(But Rises Harder…)
Disclosure: Though the title is an Iron Island quote (A Song of Ice and Fire), you are reading a historical erotica about changing worlds, unexpected love and relentless passion. Yes, Lycans and vampires are our main characters. But the context is very real. Eastern Europe still lingers in war…
⚜️ What Is Dead May Never Die ⚜️
Only magical beings know this place, Besenyo-Brasov and live there.
A Lycan comes to the barrier’s edge and waits patiently before removing an emerald cloak. The Nobili wolf sigil brooch clasps it around her collarbone. Villagers point and stare, rushing their c***dren away. Werewolves have mainly moved out. Caius’ blood melds, she can be heard.
“Caius,” his long-lost lover whispers. “I’ve come.”
—
He is so shocked by her faint, telepathic voice that her name escapes his lips before thought reprimands. The coven does not know all of his secrets. Especially this. He never imagined her return. “Inara. Oh my God.”
“Who is she?” Cara and Daya asked in unison, as Caius abruptly shuts his open book.
Daya abandoned her painting session carefully, a still-life of the open mountain view, and wove through stacks of paper and canvas to see him.
Cara’s icy blue eyes cut through Caius like blades, but she was always more gentle than appearances allowed.
“You say her name in your sleep,” the coveness sighed in a crispy, deep voice. “Is she here?”
“Wow,” is all he can manage. The library’s eerie quiet crackles with ancient pages rustling and a dimming candlelight. Daya’s skin gleams an orange-sepia as Caius rekindles it and tries to calm down. Cara kissed his neck but he could not stop his anxiety.
“Stop,” Caius ordered briskly, though it came with immediate regret for rejecting their love. Each femme took the hint, and tensed in their regal posture.
Caius hurt the covenesses AGAIN. He sucked at this. Cara sighs. Daya sniffles. She has always been the most willing to express her disapproval (he adores that). Caius apologized, cleared his throat and rounded the mahogany desk. They come into his arms. His power pushed forward two chairs.
“I’m sorry. You try so hard, and I must try as well for you. I should’ve been honest. I don’t know it took so long to say what I’m about to say. I love you no less, this story will take time. Please, dragas.”
Caius and Inara met for the same insidious reasons in 1877: war among their homelands and people. She was a young, fearless Lycan of the Italo-Levantines and Kurdish Izmir. He turned rebel in Lycan-vampire wars against the Ottoman-EEVR empire.
The syndicates pushed Inara and her family, entourage from Anatolia toward Romania, as a territorial ploy. She gave up her riches for Carpathian freedom and only took her most valuable possessions: a sword, her cloak and community. That day opened his eyes forever. Life was a series of interconnected, intricate choices, they all made.
———
.....He just reached his vampiric 20’s (they look this way till a human’s 33-ish). Many vampires in the four villages were aware of him, but Caius was arrogant. He rejected most of them (because they were deeper, honestly). His favorite lovers were fickle onto the next like males were recyclable. And he fell for it every time. The cycle became vicious. Caius wanted more from his relationships than solely this.
Bunica chided even then (in thickly accented Transylvanian Romanian): “You can predict whom but never how. Give it time. Be patient, my grandc***d.”
Caius grit his teeth and accepted her humbling. She had rarely steered him off course, knew him more than anybody. Seeds of change had to blossom.
His duty included village patrol. He bid Bunica good night, and left the manor. “Thanks for seeing me.”
Passerby smiled, their fangs gleaming in moonlight. Caius’ recent lovers stopped him en route toward the torch-lit outer road. Elena (Chelsea) flipped her ringlets elegantly, and showed off Oltenian fabric pleats on long skirts. Irini (Cara) complimented his sword. The heiress’ eyes gleamed like light sapphire.
He was supposed to be on over-time guard duty, but...a grin formed before Caius could stop. They smile knowingly back. “We’ll see you later, draga.”
“Noapte buna, you will,” he replied slyly, kissing their cheeks before eventually reaching Brasov’s deserted outskirts. Romania just came into existence. Adjustment was difficult.
Skirmishes and petty feudal fights broke out across the nation. Even Hungary and Moldova descended into proximal chaos. Civil war loomed across Europe.
The Ottoman Empire never gave up in targeting dissidents. Neither did their Eastern European counterparts. Both used local people for battle. Caius despised the Berezofskys and corrupt sultanates alike. He didn’t mind Mehmet III or the previous Turkish leader. But their invasion fragemented native land. His grandfather died by their hands. So any outsiders riled Caius’ suspicion. Mysterious shadows darted far off in the broad pines. He dematerialized to them and their horses reared in shock.
One woman gasped as she was thrown in a flurry of tattered noble robes and her party shouted frantically (in Kazakh, Romanian and Serbian).
Caius sheepishly confessed that he meant no harm to anyone, just on patrol. She hissed and continued in rubbing a sweet derriere. Then a trademark scent reached him. He drew the broad-sword quickly.
“Lycans. Vermin.” Lycans could phase but carried inventory on stallions across great distances. This must be one of those traveling bandits from nearby cities.
Their lithe leader arose from frozen earth, and she was annoyed, tall, absolutely breathtaking. Deep black waviness billowed over her cloaked back, around a heart-shaped face, astute golden eyes and full pink lips twisted into a grimace. She was ANGRY. Damn. A strong finger squarely poked his chest.
“We were going to come to you! We’re allies! What’s the idea?” Italian-Kurdish tones accented Romanian.
Caius sheathes the weapon reluctantly and bowed. She returned his gesture but glared in spite.
“Watch where you step, stranger,” that raspy voice captivated him too. At that time, Caius did not appreciate it. Then HE was angry at Inara’s misstep. They started off on a bad note and pride amplified it.
“Excuse me? This is my ancestral land, we’ve lived here since the Romans. You are the strangers,” he countered and moved a frustrated claw over shaved head. “Unless you’re from here! Are you?”
The figures murmured in mixed replies until a gruff male spoke. Caius was soul-shaken. He heard the first voice that heart and memory catalogued: Bunicu.
Bunicu phased to him after dismounting, and lunar light illuminated bright yellow eyes-ones he dearly missed so much in his dreams and waking life.
“Caius. My boy. My life,” he sobbed against Caius’ shoulder, as grandson untied his weapons belt and held him like a sacred pillar. “Forgive me.”
“Grandfather, nonsense,” the younger told elder and wiped their tears. Everyone was crying now.
“I thought...you were captured. They held you?”
“Boy, I taught you everything you know. I don’t die easy. They k**napped me, things get rough. I turned Lycan...so I stayed away.”
“But Bunica?”
“Hates them. And even if she loves me, she won’t accept me as I am now. I come for you to save our family.”
“Why, grandfather? Ten years gone. Why?” Caius became vexed.
Bunicu’s crinkled yellow eyes fell in a sad gaze.
“Because you must be warned. The wars worsen. Southern and Northeastern Romania, they are already absorbed by the EEVR-Ottomans and their allies. This entire nation’s not safe anymore.”
“Allies like paid-for-hire Lycans?” Caius snapped rudely. He’s slapped by the female lieutenant. She stamped in fury and began to restrain tears.
“I-NARA!” Bunicu roared.
“We don’t associate with the likes of them. SOME of us want everyone to be free,” said the duchess.
Inara huffed and straightened her ie. “The Nobilis are every bit as good as the Balutas. A werewolf,” she added sharply, “can be as honorable.”
Caius accepted his punishment, though Inara’s wrist is snatched by grandfather.
“He may be brash. But you will pay if you evertouch him that way again,” he warned deeply. She gulped while receding. Bunicu releases her then.
“Sweetheart. Mind your manners.”
Inara sighed. “Very WELL, Leader.”
“The unification did little for our safety,” a voice, Olen, admitted in Kazakh-tinged Romanian.
“Inara’s people are exiled for fighting Ottoman-EEVR expansion. We travel together to resist nowadays. Join us or not, son...war is at your door.”
Caius was quite flabbergasted. A long-lost grandfather plus a motley assortment of turncoats, Lycan nobles? Life was strange. Stranger still, he felt compelled to join them.
“What require you from me? I can aid you.”
Bunicu and the group laughed appreciatively. “We’d hoped so,” said his beloved patriarch. Inara and Olen assembled their saddles with supplies while glancing at Caius. She smirked slightly. He did so too.
“We will be back in a week with a longer plan.”
Stories have traveled far into the eastern provinces about you. The Transylvanian mage who goes by Baluta. Wanted to protect you and see for myself.”
His grandfather embraced him, whistled to his sable horse and galloped toward Ghimbav.
That militia followed with wily smirks. Inara stayed behind to apologize, too shy to make eye contact until he searches for it.
“Call it even,” Caius said. “I’m really sorry for misjudging and throwing you off. Literally. I heard it but never got your name officially. I’d like to before you go if that’s all-“
“Inara,” she answered melodically, almost stumbling in her excited speech. It flowed off of her tongue like his, for hours and endless decades.
”Quite beautiful. Fitting for you,” he answered and bowed humbly. “At your service.”
Her chestnut-colored mare let Caius stroke her hide before he bade goodbye.
“Take this dagger,” the young constable offered a mica-jeweled blade, steeped in runic spells. “If you meet unsavories on your journey, this will make short work.”
“Thank you, truly. It’s not many who would be so trusting. You were worth the visit!” She laughed spiritedly and sped off on Ani. Her golden eyes blazed sensually through wind-whipped waves, farther and farther away.
——
Caius still mused on her confession that she’d come to see him too, standing for almost an hour in the old pines. For what purpose?...No matter. He, Elena and Irini had plans tonight. The mage discreetly dematerialized into his manor’s lower bedchambers. There two vixens lay over black and gold duvet sheets: nude, sleepy and all too delicious.
Caius disrobed from his own dark decor, appreciating how Elena escorted him upon their shared bed. They kissed hungrily and she giggled as Irini went on personal pursuit.
“Hah, you’re so good at that. I’ll return the favor when you finish! DAMN, just—fuck!”
Irini’s oral addled his mind, so the reason didn’t occur until the trio fucked to sleep in a secluded suite. Elena got her “good night kiss”, all right.
Caius had something that Inara desired. The brawn, the looks, something. He lost sleep over it. She haunts him like a specter.
⚜️ Part Two Soon ⚜️
⚜️ What Is Dead May Never Die ⚜️
Only magical beings know this place, Besenyo-Brasov and live there.
A Lycan comes to the barrier’s edge and waits patiently before removing an emerald cloak. The Nobili wolf sigil brooch clasps it around her collarbone. Villagers point and stare, rushing their c***dren away. Werewolves have mainly moved out. Caius’ blood melds, she can be heard.
“Caius,” his long-lost lover whispers. “I’ve come.”
—
He is so shocked by her faint, telepathic voice that her name escapes his lips before thought reprimands. The coven does not know all of his secrets. Especially this. He never imagined her return. “Inara. Oh my God.”
“Who is she?” Cara and Daya asked in unison, as Caius abruptly shuts his open book.
Daya abandoned her painting session carefully, a still-life of the open mountain view, and wove through stacks of paper and canvas to see him.
Cara’s icy blue eyes cut through Caius like blades, but she was always more gentle than appearances allowed.
“You say her name in your sleep,” the coveness sighed in a crispy, deep voice. “Is she here?”
“Wow,” is all he can manage. The library’s eerie quiet crackles with ancient pages rustling and a dimming candlelight. Daya’s skin gleams an orange-sepia as Caius rekindles it and tries to calm down. Cara kissed his neck but he could not stop his anxiety.
“Stop,” Caius ordered briskly, though it came with immediate regret for rejecting their love. Each femme took the hint, and tensed in their regal posture.
Caius hurt the covenesses AGAIN. He sucked at this. Cara sighs. Daya sniffles. She has always been the most willing to express her disapproval (he adores that). Caius apologized, cleared his throat and rounded the mahogany desk. They come into his arms. His power pushed forward two chairs.
“I’m sorry. You try so hard, and I must try as well for you. I should’ve been honest. I don’t know it took so long to say what I’m about to say. I love you no less, this story will take time. Please, dragas.”
Caius and Inara met for the same insidious reasons in 1877: war among their homelands and people. She was a young, fearless Lycan of the Italo-Levantines and Kurdish Izmir. He turned rebel in Lycan-vampire wars against the Ottoman-EEVR empire.
The syndicates pushed Inara and her family, entourage from Anatolia toward Romania, as a territorial ploy. She gave up her riches for Carpathian freedom and only took her most valuable possessions: a sword, her cloak and community. That day opened his eyes forever. Life was a series of interconnected, intricate choices, they all made.
———
.....He just reached his vampiric 20’s (they look this way till a human’s 33-ish). Many vampires in the four villages were aware of him, but Caius was arrogant. He rejected most of them (because they were deeper, honestly). His favorite lovers were fickle onto the next like males were recyclable. And he fell for it every time. The cycle became vicious. Caius wanted more from his relationships than solely this.
Bunica chided even then (in thickly accented Transylvanian Romanian): “You can predict whom but never how. Give it time. Be patient, my grandc***d.”
Caius grit his teeth and accepted her humbling. She had rarely steered him off course, knew him more than anybody. Seeds of change had to blossom.
His duty included village patrol. He bid Bunica good night, and left the manor. “Thanks for seeing me.”
Passerby smiled, their fangs gleaming in moonlight. Caius’ recent lovers stopped him en route toward the torch-lit outer road. Elena (Chelsea) flipped her ringlets elegantly, and showed off Oltenian fabric pleats on long skirts. Irini (Cara) complimented his sword. The heiress’ eyes gleamed like light sapphire.
He was supposed to be on over-time guard duty, but...a grin formed before Caius could stop. They smile knowingly back. “We’ll see you later, draga.”
“Noapte buna, you will,” he replied slyly, kissing their cheeks before eventually reaching Brasov’s deserted outskirts. Romania just came into existence. Adjustment was difficult.
Skirmishes and petty feudal fights broke out across the nation. Even Hungary and Moldova descended into proximal chaos. Civil war loomed across Europe.
The Ottoman Empire never gave up in targeting dissidents. Neither did their Eastern European counterparts. Both used local people for battle. Caius despised the Berezofskys and corrupt sultanates alike. He didn’t mind Mehmet III or the previous Turkish leader. But their invasion fragemented native land. His grandfather died by their hands. So any outsiders riled Caius’ suspicion. Mysterious shadows darted far off in the broad pines. He dematerialized to them and their horses reared in shock.
One woman gasped as she was thrown in a flurry of tattered noble robes and her party shouted frantically (in Kazakh, Romanian and Serbian).
Caius sheepishly confessed that he meant no harm to anyone, just on patrol. She hissed and continued in rubbing a sweet derriere. Then a trademark scent reached him. He drew the broad-sword quickly.
“Lycans. Vermin.” Lycans could phase but carried inventory on stallions across great distances. This must be one of those traveling bandits from nearby cities.
Their lithe leader arose from frozen earth, and she was annoyed, tall, absolutely breathtaking. Deep black waviness billowed over her cloaked back, around a heart-shaped face, astute golden eyes and full pink lips twisted into a grimace. She was ANGRY. Damn. A strong finger squarely poked his chest.
“We were going to come to you! We’re allies! What’s the idea?” Italian-Kurdish tones accented Romanian.
Caius sheathes the weapon reluctantly and bowed. She returned his gesture but glared in spite.
“Watch where you step, stranger,” that raspy voice captivated him too. At that time, Caius did not appreciate it. Then HE was angry at Inara’s misstep. They started off on a bad note and pride amplified it.
“Excuse me? This is my ancestral land, we’ve lived here since the Romans. You are the strangers,” he countered and moved a frustrated claw over shaved head. “Unless you’re from here! Are you?”
The figures murmured in mixed replies until a gruff male spoke. Caius was soul-shaken. He heard the first voice that heart and memory catalogued: Bunicu.
Bunicu phased to him after dismounting, and lunar light illuminated bright yellow eyes-ones he dearly missed so much in his dreams and waking life.
“Caius. My boy. My life,” he sobbed against Caius’ shoulder, as grandson untied his weapons belt and held him like a sacred pillar. “Forgive me.”
“Grandfather, nonsense,” the younger told elder and wiped their tears. Everyone was crying now.
“I thought...you were captured. They held you?”
“Boy, I taught you everything you know. I don’t die easy. They k**napped me, things get rough. I turned Lycan...so I stayed away.”
“But Bunica?”
“Hates them. And even if she loves me, she won’t accept me as I am now. I come for you to save our family.”
“Why, grandfather? Ten years gone. Why?” Caius became vexed.
Bunicu’s crinkled yellow eyes fell in a sad gaze.
“Because you must be warned. The wars worsen. Southern and Northeastern Romania, they are already absorbed by the EEVR-Ottomans and their allies. This entire nation’s not safe anymore.”
“Allies like paid-for-hire Lycans?” Caius snapped rudely. He’s slapped by the female lieutenant. She stamped in fury and began to restrain tears.
“I-NARA!” Bunicu roared.
“We don’t associate with the likes of them. SOME of us want everyone to be free,” said the duchess.
Inara huffed and straightened her ie. “The Nobilis are every bit as good as the Balutas. A werewolf,” she added sharply, “can be as honorable.”
Caius accepted his punishment, though Inara’s wrist is snatched by grandfather.
“He may be brash. But you will pay if you evertouch him that way again,” he warned deeply. She gulped while receding. Bunicu releases her then.
“Sweetheart. Mind your manners.”
Inara sighed. “Very WELL, Leader.”
“The unification did little for our safety,” a voice, Olen, admitted in Kazakh-tinged Romanian.
“Inara’s people are exiled for fighting Ottoman-EEVR expansion. We travel together to resist nowadays. Join us or not, son...war is at your door.”
Caius was quite flabbergasted. A long-lost grandfather plus a motley assortment of turncoats, Lycan nobles? Life was strange. Stranger still, he felt compelled to join them.
“What require you from me? I can aid you.”
Bunicu and the group laughed appreciatively. “We’d hoped so,” said his beloved patriarch. Inara and Olen assembled their saddles with supplies while glancing at Caius. She smirked slightly. He did so too.
“We will be back in a week with a longer plan.”
Stories have traveled far into the eastern provinces about you. The Transylvanian mage who goes by Baluta. Wanted to protect you and see for myself.”
His grandfather embraced him, whistled to his sable horse and galloped toward Ghimbav.
That militia followed with wily smirks. Inara stayed behind to apologize, too shy to make eye contact until he searches for it.
“Call it even,” Caius said. “I’m really sorry for misjudging and throwing you off. Literally. I heard it but never got your name officially. I’d like to before you go if that’s all-“
“Inara,” she answered melodically, almost stumbling in her excited speech. It flowed off of her tongue like his, for hours and endless decades.
”Quite beautiful. Fitting for you,” he answered and bowed humbly. “At your service.”
Her chestnut-colored mare let Caius stroke her hide before he bade goodbye.
“Take this dagger,” the young constable offered a mica-jeweled blade, steeped in runic spells. “If you meet unsavories on your journey, this will make short work.”
“Thank you, truly. It’s not many who would be so trusting. You were worth the visit!” She laughed spiritedly and sped off on Ani. Her golden eyes blazed sensually through wind-whipped waves, farther and farther away.
——
Caius still mused on her confession that she’d come to see him too, standing for almost an hour in the old pines. For what purpose?...No matter. He, Elena and Irini had plans tonight. The mage discreetly dematerialized into his manor’s lower bedchambers. There two vixens lay over black and gold duvet sheets: nude, sleepy and all too delicious.
Caius disrobed from his own dark decor, appreciating how Elena escorted him upon their shared bed. They kissed hungrily and she giggled as Irini went on personal pursuit.
“Hah, you’re so good at that. I’ll return the favor when you finish! DAMN, just—fuck!”
Irini’s oral addled his mind, so the reason didn’t occur until the trio fucked to sleep in a secluded suite. Elena got her “good night kiss”, all right.
Caius had something that Inara desired. The brawn, the looks, something. He lost sleep over it. She haunts him like a specter.
⚜️ Part Two Soon ⚜️
2 年 前