Lord Bane showed Amara hidden grottos and secluded vales during their days upon the nameless island. They spoke often of mysteries esoteric and profound. Amara found her scholarly hunger fed yet still unsated. Bane's expansive teachings hinted at metaphysical truths barely grasped.
The nights they passed platonically side by side in improvised shelters. But Amara increasingly felt the weight of unspoken hungers. Bane's aura seemed to kindle a slow-burning fire beneath her skin wherever they touched, however casually. Each day the unacknowledged tension mounted. Amara sensed he was allowing her time to overcome reticence and seek him willingly. The thought left her both outraged...and undeniably tempted.
But denial could not last forever. Nine days after their uncanny meeting, Amara returned to the ruined temple at twilight. Bane awaited her coming, eyes hooded and watchful. Wordlessly he took her hand and led her not to their customary sleeping nook, but toward the secluded chamber where the skull replica yet rested. Its unearthly glow spilled from the doorway, limning their forms in crimson as they entered.
The very air in the windowless room seemed perfumed with exotic spice, the light hypnotic. Amara's pulse rose as Bane drew her to the pile of silken bedding where once she had collapsed in magical slumber. Gently he undid her garment's fastenings and let it fall so they stood bare, skin to skin. Amara shivered, but not from any chill.
"Are you certain this is your desire?" Bane's whisper was thick with restrained need. In answer, Amara pulled his mouth down to hers. Their first kiss was long and deep, an unspoken pledge. He bore her down onto the silks, his body began moving over her with innate sensuality that banished thought. Amara surrendered completely to newfound passions as they coupled with intense and unhurried intimacy.
Yet even in the throes of ecstasy, she sensed Bane holding some essential part of himself aloof. Their joining was a transcendent Sacrament, but true union yet eluded them. When at last they lay sated in each other's arms, Amara knew she had taken an irrevocable step, but the path ahead remained unclear. Troubled, she drifted into an exhausted slumber, while Bane lay wakeful brooding over what only he knew...
The next morning Amara rose restless, leaving Bane still deep in thought. Wandering the island's brush-choked ruins, she came upon a secluded grove whispering with rills and wind chimes. Feeling inexplicably safe there, she sat atop a mossy boulder. She searched her neck for the pendant gifted long ago by her mother then remembered she had tossed it at a siren during her daring escape from Rhys. This left her to reminisce about the engraved silver disk which held only vague memories now. She studied its cryptic patterns in her mind’s eye, trying to form a clear picture as if they might reveal guidance, but answers lay buried in her veiled past.
Sighing, Amara removed her hand from her naked neck. She gathered a shell nearby and transformed it into a simple, yet beautiful pendant as a reminder of her mother.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Afterwards, her thoughts began returning to the enigma of Bane's designs. The path had seemed clear when they first forged their attempt at alliance. But Bane's implicit expectations left her unmoored. She was no lust-struck acolyte to tumble blithely into his web of ambitions. Yet neither could she deny the bonds woven in their short time together. However unwise, her heart had become entangled along with her pride.
"You look troubled, sister."
Amara's head jerked up at the unexpected voice. But her sudden alarm stilled when she saw who had spoken.
"Hiwana!" She leapt up to embrace the island girl, whose serene smile dissolved her anxious musings. "You're unharmed!"
Hiwana returned the fierce hug before leaning back, palms resting lightly on Amara's bare shoulders. "I slept for unknown nights owing to our...guest. And when I awoke finding you gone, I knew at once where to seek you." Mischief shone in her eyes.
Amara laughed in sheer relief. "Your instincts serve well, though I hardly know my own mind these days."
On impulse she drew the shell pendant she had created and pressed it into Hiwana's hand, closing her fingers around it. "Keep this as a token of my gratitude. You've given me greatest gift by returning hale."
Hiwana flushed, clearly touched. She declined to speak more of Bane or Amara's new entanglements, intuiting her friend's roiling thoughts. But her companionship was balm enough for the moment. Amara resolved to be guided by wisdom, not only passion. With Hiwana by her side, she could face the uncertain future.
Some hours later as shadows lengthened, they returned to the temple hand in hand. Bane awaited them, spinning the obsidian skull idly on a plinth. His expression stilled as he saw them together. Masking his true response, he bowed gracefully over Hiwana's hand.
"My apologies for the mischance, dear lady. I trust you suffered no hardship?" His tone was all solicitous charm.
Hiwana toyed with the shell pendant at her throat. "No enduring harm was done." Her face remained serene, but her distaste was evident. She moved to stand closer to Amara in unspoken solidarity.
Bane's eyes smouldered, though his smile never wavered. "I see you have an advocate in my request for continued travels, Amara. But your other companion yet awaits you across the sea, does he not?"
Amara blinked, startled that he knew of Rhys, whom she had never mentioned. But Bane gave nothing away, watchful for her response. She strove to match his casual tone.
"The pirate lord hunts still for me and what I carry. We must depart this place soon, before his ships can pursue."
She placed her hand over Hiwana's where it rested upon the skull. "The three of us now share a veiled purpose. Let us unite in cooperation, not division." She glanced between her two unlikely companions. "Agreed?"
After a taut pause, Bane inclined his head. "You speak wisdom as ever. The lady and I shall reconcile differences, for your sake."
Hiwana gave reluctant assent. Their accord remained fragile, but Amara's goal was secured for now. She offered silent thanks that the eyes viewing her held more longing than enmity. There yet remained hope of safely steering their fates entwined.
That night they rejoined carnally, the three of them together. But Amara sensed each of her lovers withholding some essence of self. She could only meet their passion with her own fiercely open heart, hoping it might gradually melt their reserves. Spent, they slept entwined, on the cusp of epochal change none could foresee...