A Queen Among Blood: Chapter Sixty - Yildiz

A Queen Among Blood: Chapter Sixty - Yildiz
It’s taking my all to remain centred right now. Oshmin is standing before me with that stunning blood-red aura with its flecks of dancing silver as his otherworldly scent that tastes like the galaxy exploding on my tongue crashes over me like a tidal wave. It’s been days since we last spoke, and I’m grateful for that. As much as I missed him and wanted to get the answers to all my questions, we needed time apart. No problem is solved through silent treatment; being an ice queen will get me nowhere, but time to process and calm down and allow for cooler heads is necessary. Thousands of years working in conflict resolution and now I’m the one with the conflict. How the tables have turned.

I walk over and sit down on the bed, “I’m listening.”

He sighs and sits down beside me, “My name is Oshmin,” he begins, and I can hear the nerves in his voice, “I am known as the God of Life and Death because I wield power over such, I am billions of years old, too old to give you an exact number. Many thousands of years ago I… for lack of a better term, was hooking up with the Goddess Apaki. She was wild and had this way of making everything feel intense. I’m not sure if I was addicted to her, or I was lured in by her abilities, but I didn’t complain. One day, Jartre walked in on us, and at first ,I didn’t think anything of it, until I still saw the agony on his face. I still remember it so vividly. He looked like he’d been shattered into a million pieces and I’m starting to have a better understanding of what that feels like,” he says sympathetically.

“That’s when he cursed you. It’s quite brilliant when I think about it,” I say thoughtfully.

“Him cursing me is brilliant?” he questions in confusion, his tone indicating he’s slightly offended by my comment.

“No curse is brilliant, but the thought behind it is rather genius, in an evil, maniacal way. He took the essence of what you are and turned it into a curse. The God of Life and Death; cursed to spread death, and in some cases, grant eternal life. He took your gifts and turned them into something perverse. It’s sick and twisted for sure, but brilliant,” I admit.

“Huh… I actually never looked at it that way before,” he says contemplatively, “Fuck, I never put that together.”

“Really?” I ask, in surprise. He’s had this curse for all these years, and he never put together what Jartre truly did? He took everything pure and good about Oshmin and warped it into something dark and evil. How did he never see that?

“Do you sense me lying?” he asks pointedly.

My mouth forms a tight line, “You sure you want to open that can? Because I didn’t sense you lying when you called yourself Osiah, so I’m not sure my abilities are worth much around you,” I say dryly.

He sighs, “I walked right into that one.”

“Yes, you did,” I nod.

“Yildiz, I’d been calling myself Osiah for thousands of years to the point that most of the time it was easy to forget who I used to be. I wanted to forget. Calling myself Oshmin felt disingenuous,” he says sadly.

I frown in confusion, “I’m not sure I follow.”

“When I was… before I was cursed, I had the same zest for life you do. I adored watching humans and seeing how they lived. I found their cycle of life and death fascinating, and while every time I got attached and they would die, I so badly wanted to use my gifts to bring them back, but we Gods had agreed that was a no-no. In fact, I’m the one who suggested we make that deal.”

My eyes become wide as saucers, “You?” I squeak. He nods. “But why?”

“Because where would it end? We were bringing people back left and right on a whim and we weren’t actually doing good. We were messing with people’s lives. Just because we have power doesn’t mean we have a right to do that. So I suggested we draw a line of when too much is too much.” He takes a slow breath as if preparing himself mentally for his next words. “I was proud of who I was back then, and then I became something I despised. I became something that causes people pain and suffering and relishes it. I care and help them as best I can, but they’re still suffering. They’re in pain and fighting with themselves every day because of my actions, and it eats away at me. Oshmin stood for compassion and healing, and that’s not what I stood for anymore. So, I decided to go by another name, and it made things easier. The Gods, of course, never bothered with my new name,” he says, and I swear I can hear him rolling his eyes.

“And me? Why keep the truth from me? I told you over and over, that I was here for you no matter what. That I would take care of you, and I could handle anything life threw at me, just don’t lie to me, or deceive me, and that’s what you did. Did you feel guilty at all?” I ask, not holding back my sadness. It’s a gut-wrenching feeling to know your fated half doesn’t want to be himself with you.

“Zarseti told me to, Morrtemis told me to, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Yes, I felt guilty. A level of guilt that surpasses anything I’ve ever felt. I hate myself for deceiving you, but I was selfish. I didn’t want to lose the feeling I got when I was with you. Being with you I got to pretend I’m not a monster. You would look at me with so much love and adoration, and in those moments I felt like I could be worthy of it, and I just… couldn’t let that go,” he says glumly.

“Please tell me you see the flaw in that logic.”

He nods, “Trust me it’s been beating me over the head for days. I should have told the truth or told you I wasn’t ready to tell you my name. Something better than what I did.”

“I could have handled those,” I admit. “Would you have marked me still hiding the truth?” I hesitantly ask, but he goes stiff beside me. “You still were never going to mark me… were you?” I ask dejectedly.

“Not because I didn’t want to. The process of completing our bond would have made you realise what I was, and I couldn’t risk that,” he whispers in shame, his words like daggers piercing my heart.

“So this is why you refused to mark me? Because you wanted to keep your precious secret?” I snap, my words full of the hurt I’m feeling. I’d like to call him some choice names, but I’d rather not say anything I can’t take back.

“No!” he exclaims, “I swear when you mentioned it I genuinely wasn’t sure of the process itself. I’m the first God to have an animai you see, and I thought I would have to bite you and that terrified me, but then when I learned you’re immune to my curse, well… that’s when my best excuse not to complete our bond blew up, and then it became a matter of me not wanting you to know what I was,” he admits.

“I think I’d have rather you just not wanting to. I mean, you can’t force someone to be yours and if you just genuinely didn’t want to be mine, then I would have to accept that, no matter how much it hurt. But knowing you didn’t want to complete our bond because you wanted to hide the truth from me… that’s so much worse. It’s so duplicitous and hurtful,” I say, his revelation appalling me.

He sighs and hangs his head, “It seems whatever I do I just end up hurting you, and that’s never been what I’ve wanted. I tried to have our bond removed because I didn’t want someone as pure as you being tied to a monster like me.”

“You did what?” I ask in shock. He actually went to my mother to have her remove the bond she made between us? Is this an apology or just trying to find new ways to hurt my feelings?

“I’m glad your mother sent me away. Being bonded to you is the greatest gift anyone has ever given me,” he says, his voice full of sincerity. “I tried to avoid you because I thought it was safest for you, but again I just proved I was an idiot. I pushed you away several times, and then when you were at your lowest, grieving for your sister, I went and betrayed you and broke your heart. Without ever even trying I have hurt you over and over again and I have no one to blame but myself. I can say I’m sorry for all eternity, but I know it’s not enough. I know I need to prove myself and I want to. I don’t want to be someone who keeps hurting you,” he says with a clear tremble in his voice.

“I don’t want you hurting me either,” I whisper sadly.

We sit in silence for a few minutes just taking in everything that’s been said and adjusting to each other’s company. It’s not as tense as I’d expect. Even in a sombre situation like this, his presence still brings me a sense of peace and calm.

“So, how much do you hate me?” he suddenly asks cautiously.

I blink rapidly, stunned by the question, “What? I don’t hate you. I never hated you,” I answer in bewilderment.

“You don’t?!” he exclaims in disbelief.

“Of course, I don’t. I’m hurt and angered and saddened by what you did, but I don’t hate you. That’s extreme. Hate is a strong emotion, and toxic. I love you; I don’t hate you. I just hate what you did, and that’s completely different.”

“You really don’t hate me?” he asks with uncertainty.

I roll my eyes. Come on, he knows I’m physically unable to lie. “If you’re so convinced I somehow found a way to lie, then read my mind. You can, can you not?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

“I… um, yes,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Have you ever read mine before?”

He shakes his head furiously, “Never. It was bad enough I was lying to you; I couldn’t bring myself to go snooping in your head without your permission. I’d have felt even worse. Diving into your mind and learning all I could about you while keeping you in the dark; I think I’d have died from the guilt alone,” he says emphatically.

“That’s both strange logic and very sweet, but thank you, for respecting my mental privacy,” I say graciously.

“Nice to know I did something right,” he says half-heartedly.

I sigh, “Oshmin, it’s not like every moment we’ve shared together was filled with bad moments. There were a handful, but there were beautiful moments too. I can’t just forget those because you were an idiot, nor do I want to. They are far too precious to me.” I’m expecting a response but all I hear is silence again, though this time I’m unsure why. “Did I say something wrong?”

“N-no, it’s just… that’s the first time I’ve heard you say my name. My real name.”

“Oh… well, I’ve spent the last few days trying to get used to it in my head. It hasn’t been easy,” I admit.

“I actually like how it sounds coming from you,” he says softly as he slowly reaches out and brushes his fingers against the back of my hand, sending delightful searing heat through me.

“Could have had it sooner if you hadn’t lied,” I tease.

“You’ll never know how sorry I am,” he says, holding my hand in both of his and lifting it to his lips, placing feather-light kisses on each of my fingers that send heat travelling through my fingers and up my arm. “I’ll be sorry for as long as I live.”

“You’re immortal,” I point out.

“Exactly,” he says matter of factly.

“Oshmin, I don’t want you living a life of guilt, not again. Guilt is good, it shows remorse and a conscience, but I hope in time you can let that go. If in time I can let go of my hurt, then I hope you can let go of your guilt. I want to be happy with you. I don’t want to keep losing people I love,” I say as tears fill my eyes.

Oshmin is quick to wrap me up in his arms, and I don’t fight him. I sink into his embrace and let the silent tears fall unabashed from my eyes as I wrap my arms around him and breathe in his mind-blowing scent. “That part kills me the most. Not just that I hurt you – which was already bad enough – but that I did it while you’re already in so much pain. I don’t want to ever hurt you like that ever again.”

“Then let’s set some ground rules,” I say pulling back, “No more lies, no more deception. We are open and honest at all times, and we will confide in each other. We will lean on the other for support. Be the two halves of a whole that we’re meant to be. If you can promise me that, then we can move forward because there won’t be forgiveness a second time,” I say, awaiting his response.

“I make my vow to you and only you. I will forever be honest with you. You are the missing part of me, and I would rather die than lose you or hurt you. I will turn to you in times of need. I will comfort you in times of pain, and I will never, ever lie to you again… unless it’s because I’m trying to surprise you with something romantic,” he stipulates.

I chuckle, “I can live with that.” Gently I take his face in mine and bring his face down to meet me as I place my lips on his. The moment our lips touch every synapse in my brain starts firing like my brain thinks it’s Diwali. Our lips move in slow tender caresses, and I relish every single one. I breathe him into my lungs and tease the seam of his lips with my tongue; the taste of him sending a shiver through me. He gently sucks my tongue, bringing an instant throb to the muscles between my thighs, and with new sensuousness, his tongue slides into my mouth, exploring me like it’s the world’s greatest discovery. Our tongues move against one another teasing and caressing one another as his fingers glide into my hair and hold me in place. I fist his shirt in my hands as my lungs begin to protest their need for air, but I’m too consumed in our kiss to stop. I want to drown in his kisses.

All too soon he pulls back, leaving me feeling sad and yearning, but a ridiculous smile comes over my face when he places soft pecks on my lips, the sides of my mouth and my nose. I’ve missed his kisses. More importantly, I’ve missed him. While our time apart was needed, it was also agonising. My very being was crying out for him, begging for its other half. Makes me wonder how much stronger those feelings would be if we were marked.

“Oh, and there’s one more thing you have to do for me,” I suddenly say.

“Name it.”

“You have to meet my sisters,” I say with a Cheshire grin.

“I… seriously?”

“Yup,” I say cheerfully.

“They’re going to grill me, aren’t they?” he asks anxiously.

“Big time,” I say, my smile only growing wider.

He takes a deep breath and after a second kisses my forehead. “For you, it’s worth it.”

I snort, “Just remember you said that.”