INDEX:
Link here to a general overview of the novel
Prologue, Chpt 1, Chpt 2, Chpt 3, Chpt 4, Chpt 5, Chpt 6, Chpt 7, Chpt 8, Chpt 9, Chpt 10
Chapter Eleven
Daav
Retreating to the company of the Cohort is wise. It’s better to keep others around us to avoid the temptation of Sebastian. The glow of my Angel rivals the glow of the Verse. So I lead us back to the suite, my goodbye to Trina a whisper in my mind as we pass out of the gallery. Would she be disappointed in me for my choices? Probably.
Sebastian catches up to me and his arm brushes mine as we walk. He won’t relent. But I will remain strong and keep both of us safe. It’s why there are some things I read in Victor’s journals that I’ll never divulge. Details about my Angel’s past and how he came to be in our Mentor’s care which can only hurt him.
My love for Sebastian is an all encompassing flood through my body, through my heart. I’m selfish and a kernel of guilt sits hard and rigid in my gut, but I ignore it in favor of taking in Sebastian just for this moment, his scent, the easy sway of his limbs as he walks beside me. It’s been too many years since anything felt this good.
I want inside him. To bury my cock in him so deep the boundary of where my body ends and his begins blurs into nothing. To become the same creature. It’s what I’ve wanted since the first time we accidentally discovered the thrill of our young bodies rubbing together. And so I let the past in, greedy for it if I can’t have the future.
###
We’re thirteen and we’re enjoying one of our few moments of respite in the park, kicking a soccer ball back and forth to one another, arms thrown up in celebration when one or the other makes an imaginary goal between bushes or trees we’ve named as posts. Playing until it gets dark and the stars come out.
I love the stars, and use the amateur telescope Victor allows us on our roof to study them. Try to figure out the mystery of the asteroid that fell through Orreance decades ago, although Sebastian likes to insist it was really a gigantic cosmic whale swimming through space similar to the mythologies of the Cosmic or World Turtle.
“Yeah, I don’t need to think about any normal, boring stars and asteroids,” he says. “It was a gigantic whale with so many worlds carried on its back that when he went through Earth it broke something because he was so heavy.”
“Why isn’t it a turtle if you’re going to be ridiculous about it?”
He shrugs like the million other times we’ve had this debate. “I like whales better. They swim through things and whatever it was did pass through the ground.”
We have the same argument that afternoon as we take breaks between kicking the ball. But the sun’s set and it’s too dark to continue.
Then we’re racing each other home with the sheer joy of being young and momentarily free. It’s a rare feeling for us, freedom. Although it’s only with him I feel it.
Then falling into my bed, crowded onto my twin mattress together like we’d done hundreds of times. Sebastian elbows me on purpose and giggles.
“I so whipped your butt with my footwork, Prince.”
“You wish.” Although there’s only pleasure in my voice. Sebastian is comfortable, Sebastian is home. Or the closest thing.
“Nah,” he says. “I’m truly a soccer god.”
I growl my mock disgust. And then we’re wrestling and soon enough I have him pinned beneath me, arms above his head. “Admit my superiority,” I demand. “Or else.”
“Or else what?” Sebastian taunts, all laughter and dare.
“Or I’ll sit on you until you do.”
“Oh, you want to keep me in my place?”
“You deserve it,” I say, not thinking much of his laughing question, but feeling a rare wide smile splitting my face.
“Maybe. But really I think we both deserve lots more.”
Not sure what he means, I open my mouth to call him an idiot when he darts his head up toward me and lays his lips on mine. He keeps them there, pressing into me.
I’m frozen, not sure what he’s doing, what this means, until my dick twitches in my pants. And all of the sudden I’m thinking, ‘yes,’ and ‘we should have done this before,’ and ‘I need him closer.’ And I realize I don’t care what this means, he’s my best friend. Always by my side. Always trying to encourage me, to let me know I’m not alone. I let go of his wrists and grab the sides of his head to press his skull back into the mattress and kiss him back. I don’t know what I’m doing, but it doesn’t matter.
We kiss, and kiss. But it’s not enough. Then fumbling, grabbing hands between us as our lips stay locked and we’re shoving down shorts and underwear and grabbing at each other’s pricks. Jerking each other off in an uncoordinated mess of tangled limbs. Until he’s calling out, “Prince,” and his cum shoots out between my fingers and I’m shouting out his name and doing the same, unloading onto his stomach and shirt where it’s ridden up as we tangled.
Then I’m collapsing back next to him and we both lay there looking at the patterns on the plastered ceiling and breathing hard.
I’m dazed. Not sure what happened.
Like always, he’s the brave one and speaks first. “I like that. Can we do more? Do stuff?” We’re thirteen, and more than already found the pleasure of masturbation, listening to each other jerking off under sheets in the dark after bedtime.
I tense up for a moment, but this is Sebastian. My best friend. I wouldn’t let anyone else see me like this, a sticky mess on my belly and clothes, having lost control and rubbed all over him.
I relax back, and he’s propped his face on his palm, resting on his elbow, looking at me expectantly.
“Sure,” I say. Because I trust him. And really I do want this, want to do everything with him.
There are no words of ridicule as he looks down at my limp dick and the mess. The look is admiring, and a sweet smile crosses his lips. “You look good, Prince.” And then his mouth curls up again with mischief. “Although I’m still the soccer god.”
I shove him off the bed with his body making a thud on the floor, and he’s laughing. And so am I.
We spend the next year exploring each other in frenzied free moments in between Victor’s brutality, or when exhausted at night in our beds. It’s a respite, the only time I truly feel calm, as strange as that is when my body feels so out of control, desperate for more of him. Blowjobs, handjobs, frotting, and finally daring to touch each other’s assholes, pressing fingers inside to discover our prostates, careful to portion out the lotion supply kept in our bathroom, or sneak oil from the kitchen.
And finally the night, sweet and awkward, when Sebastian lets me inside his body, and I come in under a minute because it is so tight and perfect. And he pretends that it is exactly what he wanted even though it has to have hurt and he hasn’t come and I need to go down on him and suck him off in my mouth. Only later I realize it might have been just perfect to him.
I don’t really understand his thing with pain then. He’s only told me one time about the nature of his Verse.
It’s strange to think of those years as carefree. There’s never been anything carefree about our existence. But the first flush of sex, grounding our friendship, our love in teenage hormones, is liberating.
###
But time does pass. The nature of life changes. And almost two years after we discover each other’s bodies, both just fifteen, we find more again.
At dinner one night Victor starts a casual conversation about my magic, and then starts discussing my origins. He describes my father, and how much he wants me dead. Reviews in detail how my father hates me and wishes me gone. How I’m only a waste to him.
“You’ve heard his announcement,” Victor says. “How he’s celebrating a new heir. A daughter, ten years old and just shown to the people of Staltz as he’s been hiding her. He must have fucked your mother immediately after he found out about you, eager to erase his defective son. And now by ten he knows she’s magicless, and is thrilled announcing your replacement. Throw out what’s broken, and put a shiny new improved model on display.”
It twists like a knife in my gut even though I know the facts of my early life and have heard the news. Victor won’t stop that evening. This is all part of the pain he relishes applying. Sebastian knows it as he sits frozen, both of us keeping still to avoid being noticed and cut down by this monster while Victor goes on and on. My stomach keeps tightening. As I squeeze my fists tightly, nails digging into the skin of my palms, I imagine blood seeping down between my fingers, dripping on the floor. Whose blood? Mine, Victor’s, my father’s?
When Victor finishes his last bite, having eaten dinner leisurely between his cruel words, he hums pleasure at the meal, picks up his plate to bring it to the kitchen, calls goodnight to us, and goes up the stairs to his office.
I sit there, trying to breathe deeply, my eyes full of wetness that I work hard to keep from dropping.
Sebastian’s gaze is on me the entire time. He keeps it glued to me. He says, “I see you, Prince. Come upstairs. We don’t need to stay here.”
I’m still numb, but I nod and follow him. And when I sit down on my bed, Sebastian sits next to me and cups his hand against the back of my neck. “Will you try something?” he asks almost softly.
And still after Victor’s words, I trust Sebastian.
“I told you once about my Verse,” he says. “About the pain of it. It’s not bad for me. I’m used to it.”
I nod, listen. It’s difficult to speak after Victor’s attack. The tears are there and they’ve started to fall. I try not to let them, and mostly I succeed nowadays, but when they come, and they do escape in moments, Sebastian is always there.
“The thing is, Victor wants to rip everything away from us. He wants to sink teeth in and chew and make us feel helpless, powerless, and scared. But we can’t let him do that. It’s hard for him to do that to me because of what I told you about how I am with pain. And sometimes…I more than don’t mind the pain. I kinda…like it. So really Victor has nothing on me.” His words are halting, more hesitant than I’ve ever heard him.
He likes the pain? I’m horrified in part, but curious. What is it about Sebastian? He’s my best friend and I love him. Is this how he keeps going with the mess of our lives? He keeps his hand against my neck and waits for me to make sense of the words. I nod again. If Sebastian says it, I believe him. Even if I’m not quite sure what he means.
“You deserve to feel in control. To be the one to make decisions, to take that pain and do something that keeps it from melting you away. You’re important, Daav. So maybe when we’re together…you can…” He pulls his shirt over his head and throws it on the bed. He picks up my hand where it rests on my thigh. He places it on his chest. “Maybe when we touch, you can…be the one in charge. You can jerk and you can tell me what to do. I’ll lie down like you want, move like you want. You can make the decisions. Pinch if you want, give me some pain, slapping, spanking, make me come, tell me not to come….Whatever. He’s not in charge of your life. You are.”
“What?” I remember asking. No! How can he want me to do that to him? After everything Victor does? I’m not like Victor.
“Let’s just try it. Will you? I don’t like what he does to you. I don’t mind pain. Sometimes it’s…good. It doesn’t take anything from me. If you don’t want to do that part, that’s fine. But what I hate is seeing what he takes from you. That makes me hurt.”
Only now I appreciate what it means that a fifteen year old boy understands himself so well, exposes himself, says so clearly something difficult, from his heart, and not at all something boys say out loud even if they think all kinds of things. And that he does it for me. That he sees me so clearly. Not that I want to hurt him, but that I need the control so much because I have so little.
I can’t quite understand Sebastian’s relationship to pain, but I know I don’t want him hurt even if it’s other things that are the cause of it and not the physical punishment.
And when I look over to him, I see that longing on his face. It’s open, honest, hopeful. His offer may be for me, but it’s also for him. I want to give him what he wants. If I can’t stop Victor, I can do this. Sebastian always wants to please me. He is generous and pure, not like me. I want to please him, and if I understand, he’s saying that he wants this from me, for me. It will make him happy.
Plus I need something to ground me and bring me back from the wounds to my heart. That resolve I feel when pursuing my magic and the science bubbles up, that burn to make things happen.
So I turn to him and look into those gray eyes. “Lie down,” I say. He does. And the next part of the story begins between us.
###
“Your boyfriend sucks,” Hanna says to me. I don’t bother to correct her about the use of the term boyfriend.
My Angel rolls his eyes at her. We’re back at the suite and Sebastian tries to apologize as I’ve asked, although Hanna doesn’t make it easy.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats to her again. “Feel free to drag out the hair shirt for my penance.”
Hanna’s scowl remains in place. She isn’t interested in forgiveness. Not because she cares that my Angel’s words hurt me earlier. My very existence offends her. Sebastian is only a target by extension for my unforgivable offense. Sebastian is alive. No matter that he’s been out of my life for eight years, he’s alive. Trina, raised side by side with Hanna by the same Mentor, the only other paired assignment in our Cohort, is not. The two girls had been close, possibly as close as Sebastian and me, although Trina never said. From Hanna’s standpoint, Trina is dead because of me. I’m to blame.
I cannot dislike Hanna for her animosity toward me because it’s justified. I am to blame. Her anger is my due and I bear it as stoically as possible. One of the many reasons I’ve kept my distance from the Cohort.
“Get over it, Hanna,” Nueé adds. “We’re all wound up. Tristan Crane Day tomorrow, the protests, Seb’s return, it’s a lot. Let’s finish cleaning up and get to bed. The Mentors arrive bright and early and if Deidre demands those morning calisthenics she tortures you with from all of us, I need my rest.”
“You play favorites with Seb, even with him gone all these years,” Hanna says with a sour tone.
Nueé winks at her. “Sure I do. Have you seen his ass?”
Ravel frowns at her comment. Nuée always liked stirring the pot, and very like my Angel does which is why they remain close friends.
Sebastian snorts and throws an arm around Nueé. “We’ll help clean. But if I remember Christopher well enough, he’ll get you out of any nasty exercise and laugh off Deidre’s training regime. Or we’ll aim Colleen at Deidre. She’ll distract the drill master. She still willing to feel up anyone in her own Cohort for shits and giggles?”
Now it’s Frederick frowning.
“Fuck, sorry Freddie,” Sebastian adds, a flash of pained contrition across his face.
Colleen is Frederick’s Mentor and I’m disgusted by how she treats him, not even knowing the extent of what truly happens behind closed doors in that household. It’s far from healthy. In her own way Colleen has done Frederick as much damage as Victor did us.
I never asked for specifics. Although the Cohort has been part of our lives since I came to Orreance, I never allowed them close. Sebastian had, before he left. But now an uncomfortable wish feathers my gut. Is that what I still want? Distance from them? They are some of the reasons I do what I do. For them, for their future and safety.
Frederick rises from where he’s resting next to Ravel. “Seb, I appreciate the apology, but we don’t need it, man. I didn’t mean what I said about turning Daav over to his father, and I understand your doubts.” He runs his fingers through his golden blond hair and faces me. “The pressure is brutal, Daav. We don’t mean to add to it. No matter what happens, we support you. We can’t help hoping you’re the one, no one can, but you’re more important than that hope. We hang together through anything.” He sends a censuring look toward Hanna. “We’ll support you, both of you, any way we can.” Frederick rests his hand on my shoulder. “You never ask for anything. That’s your way, I get it. But you can.” He shakes his head. “And even if you don’t, we’ll be there.”
Sebastian grabs my palm for a moment, squeezes his support knowing how their words touch me even as I keep it hidden. I let him, the weak fool I am.
The feathery feeling in my gut intensifies. My throat feels solid.
“I agree,” Ravel says. “We haven’t had a chance to support Seb in years. And it hurts that you also cut us out, Daav, but we understand. We’re there for you no matter what.”
Funny how Ravel and Frederick are the most sensitive of this group. Hanna is prickly. Nueé leads with verve and mischief. And Bethany is honest to a fault, but with a serious, less emotional frame to it. Her Mentor Ester is all about discipline of mind and study and it leaves Bethany straightforward and focused on logic. Although Bethany is still overly careful, surreptitious about her study of math and the sciences with the Conclave’s critical attitudes about them. Leaving her to hide her passion as if it’s a dirty little secret.
Bethany has been picking up the discarded beer bottles around the room, but has stopped to listen to Frederick, then looks me straight in my eyes, voice even and matter of fact. “Freddie and Ravel are right. You’re part of us. We love you. Now go to bed, you two. No need to clean. Seb told us that Johan made you test earlier so you have to be exhausted,” she says in my direction.
“Thank you.” I hesitate. “I hope you can show me the recent work on your formulas. Despite my infrequent presence, I see how you lose sleep yourself working on them.”
She nods, uncertain of how to take my words.
“Don’t hide, Bethany. Your work is just as important as any Conclave focus on magic.” I gesture to the room. “A lot less untidy, as well.”
She smiles, rare for her serious self. And it makes me feel….
“We should help,” Sebastian answers. “I’m not letting this one sleep anyway. I’m dragging him to the dance studio first.”
This is news to me and I arch an eyebrow his way.
“I haven’t seen him dance in eight years.” Sebastian shrugs. “Kind of gets me horny.” He’s breaking the tension of this serious moment, turning it lighter, and warning me that he won’t stop his campaign.
Nueé sighs. “You haven’t let us watch you dance either since before Trina. You two were beautiful together.”
Hanna makes a disgusted sound. “You’re all pathetic. These two can do no wrong. Abandon us, kill one of us, call us idiots, it’s all fine.” Her voice is getting louder, her fists balled at her sides. “I’ve been part of this Cohort for just as long, loved you all just as fiercely. But it’s the charmed pair before anyone. Do you even care that Trina…” Hanna stops her words, choking on the name.
Sebastian is moving toward her, his arm outstretched. “Hanna, please,” he’s begging. He can’t stand the pain and anger etched on her face, the lost despair leaking from her.
She steps back from him. “Don’t you fucking dare.” Almost growling.
“Let her be, Angel,” I say. “She’s entitled to her anger.”
Hanna swings my way. “Don’t defend me.” The words are like gunfire.
“I don’t want to upset you, Hanna.”
“A little too late for that, don’t you think?”
“If it’s my apology you want again, you have it.”
“Apology? No. What I want is for you to leave. Go back to Staltz, Daav. Get your damn father off our backs. That’s your responsibility. That’s how you pay us back for what you did.”
I flinch. I can’t help it. She hates me but I never understood how deep it ran.
Sebastian is stepping toward Hanna, getting in her path as she lasers her animosity at me.
And that’s when I see it, the gold striations flashing in her eyes as they burn bright. And she calls her Verse.