The Halo Breed…
THE HALO BREED
A WEEKEND STORY
Grace’s door flew open, and a cold wind blasted into the room with a nasty, nauseating stink, and she knew that Lord Lastor was with her.
She had not seen him the whole day, and that had pleased her. Now, it was deep in the night, close to midnight, and here he was, invading her privacy with impunity as he always did. And the stench of blood followed him, an indication that he had just murdered somebody else.
She huddled close to the wall and held the cover cloth tightly, pretending to be asleep, but she knew she could not fool him. Even if she had been asleep, he would have woken her up to tell her whatever he wanted her to know.
The door slammed shut again, and although she did not hear him, she knew he was gliding towards her because the nauseous scent became stronger. A moment later, she felt the bed depressing as he sat down on its edge, and then she cringed with horror when she felt him pulling the huge cover cloth from her body.
She opened her eyes and turned quickly on her back and saw his eyes glowing in the darkness. He snapped his fingers, and a bright white light burned on the fingertip of his middle finger like fire, throwing a white brightness in the room, causing her to shut her eyes briefly.
Grace opened her eyes and saw his eyes roaming hungrily down the front of her short night gown. For a brief moment, she almost pulled the cover cloth around her again, but she knew that would have been a singularly stupid thing to do. It would have invoked his wrath, and he would have harmed her.
“Ah, my glorious beauty, it becomes increasingly difficult to stay away from your beauty!” he said gruffly.
Grace Klubi forced herself to smile broadly. And held out her arms.
“Then, come to me, my darling,” she said, forcing sexiness into her voice. “Come to me right now and make me a woman.”
He looked pleased, and then his right hand descended on her tender breast under the material, and he caressed it gently. Grace felt no desire; if anything, his touch made her skin crawl and cringe, but she felt his eyes intently on her face, and so she closed her eyes and moaned softly, allowing her lips to part and her tongue to circle her lips gently, depicting the perfect picture of a woman who was deeply aroused.
“Oh, my darling!” she groaned. “Unite our bodies!”
He grunted with pleasure and touched her face gently.
“Soon, my love, soon,” he whispered. “As soon as we vanquish that meddling half breed!”
Grace tensed and opened her eyes slowly to stare at him.
“He still lives?” she whispered.
“Indeed, he does,” Lord Lastor hissed. “And, worse, he is now on Earth, inside the Pale Lands. He comes, yes, he comes!”
Grace’s heart thudded with sudden excitement, and she quickly forced a look of disgust on her face.
“We need to cut him up to pieces and spread his body parts to the birds!”
“Indeed, yes, my sentiments exactly,” the Hadesian Lord said. “And he has the only weapon that can vanquish him, the Sword of Hades which he took from you. And he has a totem in his forehead that can close the gates of Hades!”
Grace saw the handsome, furious face of that young man again, his hard body, his charisma, his blatant disregard to danger!
He was coming!
“That is bad!” she forced herself to say. “Does it mean we cannot kill him?”
“We can, if we can get him into Hades,” Lord Lastor said grimly. “And you, my darling, will lead him to us!”
Grace sat up suddenly, her heart beating with sudden trepidation.
“Me?” she whispered, and the evil being nodded.
“Yes, you, a virgin, unblemished! It has been prophesied, that you will lead him to Hades.”
“But he hates me!” Grace almost shouted. “Surely, he will kill me the moment he sets eyes on me again!”
“No, he will not,” Lastor said. “The Breed of the Halos has been accursed by the cravings of the flesh! Your beauty remains an enigma to him. When he sees you, his ire will be stoked, but you will tell him you were forced and coerced, and then his wrath shall abate. You will give him food, and when he sleeps, you will tie this cord into his hair, and then he will be as helpless as a new born baby!”
Grace’s heart rose and fell. She was as excited as she was terrified with the prospect of meeting that boy again! She admitted to herself that he had not been far from her thoughts ever since their ill-fated meeting inside the Underworld!
Indeed, she knew he boded evil to her, and to Lastor and the Hadesians, a boy ordained to deliver Densua from the grip of evil. Yet, she wished he knew more about her, that he would look at her not with hatred as he had done, but with the passion that she always saw in the eyes of males that made her sick to her stomach.
But with him, she wondered if she would be sick.
She scowled suddenly when she felt Lord Lastor’s critical gaze on her.
“I’m afraid, my love,” she whimpered. “Suppose he ends my life before I have had time to taste your love fully!”
“Do not be afraid of the puny Earthling, dear,” he said grimly. “He is weak, and shall be like a child in your presence. Go on, that the cord, and keep it. You will leave to the edge of the Pale Lands, and wait for him in the home that his father built!”
“What about Queen Sarai?” Grace asked quickly. “She stays there, you know.”
“She does not,” Lastor replied. “That vile woman fled the house when her daughter was captured. It will be for you, and him.”
With a trembling hand she took the cord and put it in her bedside drawer.
“It shall be done, my love,” she said with grim resolve. “He shall be yours.”
“That is why you will be my queen,” Lord Lastor said. “Sleep well, dearest. We will vanquish him, and we will celebrate our love!”
He disappeared suddenly, and a moment later the door swung shut.
Left in the relative darkness, Grace Klubi pulled the covers around her again and huddled underneath, her body suddenly tingling with anticipation!
He was coming!
She was going to see him again, under very different circumstances, and she wondered what was going to happen.
It took a while before she fell asleep again, and even then she kept seeing his face in her subconscious mind.
Prosper Freeman slowly made himself visible to the survivors.
“You again!” Mavis Tease said with a gentle smile. “Welcome, Speaker for the Spirits.”
“Good to see all of you in great spirits,” Prosper said gently. “Soon, with the hope, I daresay you would all be able to return to your beloved land again.”
“I hope so,” Kobby Obeng said softly. “It is my most ardent prayer.”
His handsome face unsmiling, Sena looked at the Sage.
“What now?” he asked quietly. “Am I going to confront my destiny now?”
“No, my Prince,” Prosper said. “Your journey begins on the morrow. Tonight, you sleep in the bud specially prepared for you, and sojourn with the spirits that be!”
He pointed to the huge tree, and they all watched as a huge tent-like structure descended from it, much bigger than the buds they had been sleeping in. This one appeared more robust, beautiful and royal.
“Your abode, Prince of the Halos,” Prosper Freeman said. “Enter. A table awaits you. Feed, sleep, and the spirits shall appear to you.”
“You’re more handsome than even your father, the most handsome man I ever set eyes on,” Sarai said in a sad voice. “Sena. My son.”
He looked coldly at her without speaking as he headed for the special bud tent that had been prepared for him.
They stopped and watched him go.
“What’s with him?” Obed asked with a confused smile on his face. “Why is he so cold?”
“Maybe he needs to be,” Mavis replied gently. “Maybe he needs to be. Kharisa, please go and check if everything is as he wants.”
Kharisa looked at the old woman for a while, trying hard to read into the stoic expression, but then she sighed, bowed, and followed the prince.
“Are you being a match-maker already, dear Mavis?” Sarai asked with a sad smile.
Mavis smiled back.
“You must admit they look amazingly good together,” she said. “Just like you and Gus did.”
Sarai nodded, but she could not speak because she had tears in her eyes.
When Kharisa entered the tent, she marvelled at how cool the interior was, and how it had such a sweet aroma within. There was a comfortable-looking cotton-like mattress in one corner, and in another corner was a sort of plant table on which were covered calabashes that contained sumptuous food.
Sena removed the great axe across his back and leaned it against the side of the structure, and then he took off his top and put it neatly at the foot of the bed. Bare-chested, so amazingly formed, he walked towards Kharisa with a cold expression, and then he suddenly put a hand between her thighs and cupped her groin.
“Are you wet yet?” he asked coldly. “Take off your clothes. I’m going to mount you, evil woman!”
She could not speak for a moment.
So great was her shock, chagrin, and anger! She just stared at him with her mouth hanging open. When he reached up and tore her dress open, exposing her beautiful breasts, and then reached for them, she suddenly stepped back rapidly with a muted cry of horror.
“Are you mad?” she screamed at him.
And then she slapped him across the face, but his jawline was so hard it felt like hitting a piece of metal, and she grabbed her hand as a jarring pain shot through her whole arm. She watched his handsome face as he pulled the dark fabric around his waist away, and now he stood in all his glory!
Huge, muscled, ripped… a man among men, naked, and with his demand a fierce extension at his groin, huge and veined and ready to explore. Again, he held her breasts, but tenderly, and gently felt them, and as Kharisa’s legs weakened at the sheer magnetic force of him, she knew this prince was not a gentleman, not the type of man she knew.
She was aware that another second and he would have what he craved because, for a fact, her whole body was tingling and she was experiencing a fierceness of craving she had never felt before, not for any man because she had never been with a man apart from the silly little exchange of looks and a quickening of the pulses she had shared with some of the young men in Densua.
Sena curled an arm around her waist and drew her close, and then his lips descended on hers, hot and sweet and electrifying! She gasped and trembled in his arms as her breasts rubbed against his hard chest, and his tongue probed deeply against hers, and then his hand crept up one silky thigh and moved towards the heated core of her being which had suddenly become a betrayer of her soul because, dear spirits, it had become a volcanic organ and throbbing alarmingly with desire as his lips sought her throat.
Kharisa struggled finally against the desires of her body and broke free from him, panting hard, and raised her hand to strike him again, but then she remembered how hard he had been and how hitting him had only hurt her hand.
“You beast!” she screamed at him, and at the same time she could not stop herself from looking down at his hardened lance which made her so weak because it was so glorious. “You bad, horrible, beast!”
He touched her breast again, and as she shuddered with desire took the only avenue that was left to her; she fled from the tent with cries of fear!
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