“Vengeancewillbe mine, my lord,” I told him, “but only when those villainous hearts are weighed at the end of their lives, not before. I choose real justice which, if not carried out on earth, I know will be by the gods.”
“And if it is not?” he asked, sharpening my gaze upon his half-hidden face. His tear tracks remained, frozen now and partially shadowed by his headdress, but they were there. “Perhaps these men will seek absolution. Become pious. Beg forgiveness and do good deeds to lighten their hearts before their ends.”
I hadn’t thought of that. But wasn’t that what we all hoped for, what Seth and Horus hoped for too, that no matter the depth of our sins, we could always, somehow, someday right those wrongs?
Wasn’t that justice too?
I launched myself forward, reaching for the back of Horus's neck and knowing I surprised him when he gasped as I gripped tight. I swung him around roughly, rougher than I would ever be with Meryt, but this was not only about me.
Slamming Horus hard into the tree, I kept my grip firm around his neck and leaned into him, breath hot and body emanating equal heat from our previous coupling. I brought my mouth in line with his but did not kiss him. Instead, I tilted my head to return to the marks I had made on his neck. They were already nearly completely healed.
I sank my teeth there again, and Horus's gasp was as full of renewed pleasure as any before it, accompanied by a telling twitch beneath his waist.
It was no wonder he and Seth were so well matched, for the chaos in Seth sought to expel itself by causing pain, not to truly hurt but to leave a mark, however briefly, proving he had an impact. Proving he meant something. Whereas the healing calm of Horus sought to accept that pain, to mold it, harmonize with it, and take the pleasure inherent at its core, forever ready as a healing god to take more.
They might not be dusk and dawn, but they were balance, nonetheless.
“If that is what happens, my lord,” I said, gently licking the puncture marks and loosening my hold on his neck to run my thumb down the bulb of his throat, “I know Meryt would want me to be happy that they became better men, and so that is what I have to do. That is what Imustdo to continue being worthy of him. I must be the me he needs me to be.”
As I sought Horus’s sun and moon eyes behind his feathered crown, I saw how clear and bright they were and that their brilliance was accompanied by a warm smile. “As you wish, Nakht.”
The armor was gone from me with my next breath, their added weight lifted, and the rest of me left even more pristine than I had yet been.
“I helped return the color to your cheeks and the light to your eyes that was dimming from your exhaustion,” Horus said. “A good meal can only do so much, and these are not easy trials, but hopefully, some added vitality will see you through to the end, and to your Meryt.”
“Thank you,” I said, stepping back from the tree.
“Go to him.”
The sudden bidding made me glance around, but no new archway had appeared.
“There.” Horus gestured behind him, or rather, behind the tree, and I understood that my next path was exactly where I had sensed it.
“He is close at hand to you now.” Horus pushed from the tree and moved behind me as he spoke. “Closer than he has ever been. Do not fail him.”
I turned to thank Horus once more, feeling such comradery in those words, for it was all he wanted too—for his beloved to finally succeed and reunite with him.
But as with earlier gods, no one stood there, only empty space.
Something new in my hair caught my attention, and I pulled the braid it attached to out in front of me to see that a feather had been added.
Thank you, I said with my heart.
The chirping of a cat drew me back to the tree and the other side of it. I knew Pasht would lead me where I needed to go, and though I was sad it meant Seth was alone again—for now, at least—I followed her lead, catching only the sight of her upright tail swishing through the grass, but it was enough.
I delved deeper into the foliage, making my way between trees, until the shadows cast by their thick trunks and tall branches became a blinding, welcoming light.
The following chapter contains:
Stigmatophilia (Tattooing as Kink) or Being Written On/Marked, Mirror Kink, and Orgasm Denial.
Chapter seven
The Scholar
MERYT
“Higher, Meryt! Come now, you are better than that!”
