As Sybel laced her arms around him, sinking into Vanator's comforting embrace, the Drykas drew her against his chest protectively. An instinctive tilt of his neck exposed more skin to her rush of kisses. His concern that he had hurt the girl, damaged her by bringing her to the Aquiras Tunnel was abated with her broken words. “This was necessary. Thank you.”
Sybel's reaction was unexpected but far from unwanted, and Vanator's hand lifted to lightly caress her hair as their kiss became an oral embrace. He welcomed the Benshiran's warm tongue, his own hungrily wrapping around hers, tasting and caressing and exploring with unfettered passion. As desperately as Sybel longed to fill the void in her heart, Vanator strove to ensure that the future he saw would include her. The descent of the desert woman's hand began a heat at his core, increasing until her feminine grip laid hold of his manhood, igniting a tightness at its base and an instantaneous expansion. The overwhelming sensation, the unleashing of primal desire, proved a powerful solace, washing away fear and dismay as Vanator's attention was drawn to the intimate touch he had longed to feel. Only a fraction of a chime did Sybel hold him in her tactile power, but the emotional and sensual implications pushed Vanator's resolve off of a cliff.
The Drykas wanted her...right then. Vanator wanted to make love to Sybel in the entrance of the tunnel, make love, express love, drown in love. His kiss became more insistent, deeper. But the magical contact was broken, and Sybel staggered back. Vanator wondered if the grunt he felt inside had slipped out between his tingling lips. But as she sought support from the tunnel wall, eyes fixed upon one another, Van saw the gravity of Sybel's experience, and understood there was an emotional trauma still wracking her soul. Vanator's lust for her swept into a compassion. In silent empathy the Drykas listened to Sybel's tale, a confession that illuminated the heart of the one he loved.
Her story rent his heart, and the profound sadness she bore in her countenance filled him with sorrow. Vanator wanted nothing more than to make things right for her, wipe away regret and pain and emptiness. But the man knew all too well the depths her soul visited, for he had been, was, there. Vanator approached slowly, taking one of Sybel's hands in his, covering it with the other. He wanted to hold her again, but it was too soon, the fire was still smoldering.
"There is no shame in avenging the death of a loved one, it is honorable." In fact, vengeance was what ate at his soul. Vanator had not avenged Tara's death. He could not hunt down a group of men and have the satisfaction of killing them one by one. His vendetta was against a race, and he did not know how many Zith he would have to kill to find satisfaction for the life they had taken from him. In his mind, the entire population was not enough. But he saw Sybel bore great guilt for the murders she committed, saw how a young girl became a jaded woman as her hands became stained with blood.
A flood of consolation crested upon his tongue, ready to employ in an effort to placate Sybel's shattered heart. But Vanator knew they would only sound like words to the woman, kind and certainly true, but unable to mend what the immutable past had rendered. He could not change it. But he had Sybel in the here and now.
"You are not alone Sybel, I am here. What you have done does not change how I feel. Burdens can be unbearable alone, but shared, they are surmountable. A cord is many times stronger when entwined with another. I don't just want to join you in body, Bel, I want to be with you in all things, whether joyful or painful. You say you have no god and no people. I am neither divine, nor Benshiran, but all that I have, and all that I am, is yours if you will take it."
The vision echoed in his mind's eye...no Sybel in it. Vanator's words may have been naive, but they were sincere, he would make his own future with her in it.
“Did you see a vision, Vanator?”
He struggled to conceal the wave of dismay that washed over his being. "Yes," He would not lie to her, "...I saw a vision of the future. But the future is not constant, and I put little credence into mere glimpses of it."
Drawing Sybel to him by her hand, he once again embraced her firmly, pressing kisses to her hair, holding her as if they were two lonely souls amid a sea that rose steadily around them.
Sybel's reaction was unexpected but far from unwanted, and Vanator's hand lifted to lightly caress her hair as their kiss became an oral embrace. He welcomed the Benshiran's warm tongue, his own hungrily wrapping around hers, tasting and caressing and exploring with unfettered passion. As desperately as Sybel longed to fill the void in her heart, Vanator strove to ensure that the future he saw would include her. The descent of the desert woman's hand began a heat at his core, increasing until her feminine grip laid hold of his manhood, igniting a tightness at its base and an instantaneous expansion. The overwhelming sensation, the unleashing of primal desire, proved a powerful solace, washing away fear and dismay as Vanator's attention was drawn to the intimate touch he had longed to feel. Only a fraction of a chime did Sybel hold him in her tactile power, but the emotional and sensual implications pushed Vanator's resolve off of a cliff.
The Drykas wanted her...right then. Vanator wanted to make love to Sybel in the entrance of the tunnel, make love, express love, drown in love. His kiss became more insistent, deeper. But the magical contact was broken, and Sybel staggered back. Vanator wondered if the grunt he felt inside had slipped out between his tingling lips. But as she sought support from the tunnel wall, eyes fixed upon one another, Van saw the gravity of Sybel's experience, and understood there was an emotional trauma still wracking her soul. Vanator's lust for her swept into a compassion. In silent empathy the Drykas listened to Sybel's tale, a confession that illuminated the heart of the one he loved.
Her story rent his heart, and the profound sadness she bore in her countenance filled him with sorrow. Vanator wanted nothing more than to make things right for her, wipe away regret and pain and emptiness. But the man knew all too well the depths her soul visited, for he had been, was, there. Vanator approached slowly, taking one of Sybel's hands in his, covering it with the other. He wanted to hold her again, but it was too soon, the fire was still smoldering.
"There is no shame in avenging the death of a loved one, it is honorable." In fact, vengeance was what ate at his soul. Vanator had not avenged Tara's death. He could not hunt down a group of men and have the satisfaction of killing them one by one. His vendetta was against a race, and he did not know how many Zith he would have to kill to find satisfaction for the life they had taken from him. In his mind, the entire population was not enough. But he saw Sybel bore great guilt for the murders she committed, saw how a young girl became a jaded woman as her hands became stained with blood.
A flood of consolation crested upon his tongue, ready to employ in an effort to placate Sybel's shattered heart. But Vanator knew they would only sound like words to the woman, kind and certainly true, but unable to mend what the immutable past had rendered. He could not change it. But he had Sybel in the here and now.
"You are not alone Sybel, I am here. What you have done does not change how I feel. Burdens can be unbearable alone, but shared, they are surmountable. A cord is many times stronger when entwined with another. I don't just want to join you in body, Bel, I want to be with you in all things, whether joyful or painful. You say you have no god and no people. I am neither divine, nor Benshiran, but all that I have, and all that I am, is yours if you will take it."
The vision echoed in his mind's eye...no Sybel in it. Vanator's words may have been naive, but they were sincere, he would make his own future with her in it.
“Did you see a vision, Vanator?”
He struggled to conceal the wave of dismay that washed over his being. "Yes," He would not lie to her, "...I saw a vision of the future. But the future is not constant, and I put little credence into mere glimpses of it."
Drawing Sybel to him by her hand, he once again embraced her firmly, pressing kisses to her hair, holding her as if they were two lonely souls amid a sea that rose steadily around them.
