Waylon's Crossing - 20. Chapter 20: Heart to Heart

Waylon's Crossing
Chapter 20: Heart to Heart

Alan fought a similar battle, his human self wanting what was offered, reacting instinctively. The demon blood that had created his race resisted, screaming its fury, acknowledging the mental superiority of the other mind, and fearing it, fearing the leash even as Kynan did.

Images from their pasts flashed between them, disorienting and confusing. Kynan let them slide by, ignoring them, knowing that to pay them any attention now would only lead to madness. The memories would settle as they would; understanding could only come with time, time he wasn't sure he wanted to commit.

He remembered a soot-covered young boy, with huge eyes and a dazzling smile, laughing in victory even as his father yanked on one ear, shouting in frustration. He remembered slinging exploding cans in the dreamscape, laughing and joking and playing, of conversations and long walks, of grass beneath him and Alan's hand on his shoulder, the surrender and trust. He remembered courage and pride and stubbornness ... he remembered, was reminded of, his own bitter, sometimes overwhelming loneliness, and had that reflected back at him ten-fold.

Falling to his mental knees, Kynan gave in. He released the last of his defenses, and gathered Alan into an embrace that went beyond the body and mind to the very soul.

They connected with a ringing in both their heads, physically knowing that the priest had struck the silver disk with a rubber gong, but there was so much more to it than that. Blood mingled, joined, and became one. Their hearts, bodies, souls, wrapped around each other and clung together until there was no means of ever separating them, ever determining where one ended and the other began. Bonded. Paired. Forever. For life.

//.. Enter Dreamscape..\\

The room faded away, leaving them kneeling together in their most familiar, favorite place. Strength flowed into Kynan from Alan and he instantly clamped down on their emotions as he'd always done, controlling the pain, pushing it aside, taking and separating the pain and fear from Alan. He also had to push back his inner demon -- thing that wasn't a demon. Identification could wait. Kynan clamped mental hands around the sexual tension in his body, lurching aside from Alan's presence. He strangled his desires mercilessly. This wasn't him this time, but the drugs affecting him somehow.

He didn't even realize he'd closed his eyes until the werewolf punched him in the shoulder, staring at him with awestruck, rounded eyes.

"What?"

"Ky ...!" gasped Alan, eyes locked on something just over Kynan's shoulder.

"What?" He spun around, staring behind him, but something was off and he lurched, falling to his hands and knees and grunting in pain. Something soft, but heavy, thudded down around him and he shielded his head on reflex alone.

"Wow!" he heard Alan exclaim.

When nothing else happened, Kynan peered out from under his arms, to find himself beneath a blanket of satiny-black feathers.

"Shit!" He scrambled forward and away and the blanket flopped out behind him, sliding against shredded skin and increasing the intensity of the stabbing twinges in his shoulder blades.

"Get it off me! Get it off!"

Alan giggled. His certainty that there was nothing to fear made Kynan pause. Cautiously, dreading what he might feel, he stretched a hand out to touch the feathers. They slipped through his fingers easily, the weight on his back unchanging. He tugged, and pulled himself off balance again. What the...?

"Alan?" he whispered. "Am I ... do I ... wings?"

The werewolf nodded, eyes bright with the wonder and amusement Kynan could feel bubbling out of him.

"I'm not doing this on purpose! What's happening to me?"

"What happened to us?" Alan demanded right back. His cock was painfully hard and erect, but he ignored it for the meantime, his mind needing to first make logical sense of the events that had transpired. "What the hell was that? I can feel you even better than before, and there's ... these thoughts, in my head, that aren't mine!"

Kynan sat down before he fell back down, pushing at the wings until they draped semi-comfortably around him. "It's called a Pair-Bond," he explained. "The things you're seeing are memories, my memories." He gave Alan a wan smile. "Don't fight it, just let it happen. Everything that I know, you now know, and the same from you to me. Anything that happens to one of us now will affect the other. For example." He bit his finger.

"Ow!" cried Alan, curling his own hand and staring down at the unharmed flesh. "Sonuva -- what did you just do?"

"I don't know the details of it myself," said Kynan. "There's only one other Pair-Bond active among demons, and I'm one of four people who know about it."

The knowledge floated to the front of Alan's mind. "Karadur and Azil."

"Yes."

"Who are they?" He frowned, hit with too many memories, thoughts, and emotions to separate into any sense.

"Karadur is my mentor, he trained me --"

"Holy shit!"

"What?"

"Your mom's the Queen?"

That was quick, thought Kynan. "Yeah, she is."

"Eww."

"'Eww?'"

Alan shuddered. "So, your uncle was ... was ... eww! And ...!" He gasped, staggered to the side, one hand going to his mouth as he stared at Kynan.

The halfling frowned in concern, lifting a hand, but still nervous about getting too close. "Alan, don't ...!"

But the warning came too late. Memories, emotions, sensations, pounded down on the unprepared werewolf. He half-sobbed half-screamed, and collapsed onto the grass of their park in the dreamscape.

Kynan crawled over to him, dragging the wings behind, to take the shaking little body in his arms. He curled protectively around him, running fingers through the shaggy hair in soothing gestures, feeling the hands as if on himself, and knowing intimately how it felt, learning with every stroke how to move his hands to the best effect.

"Mmmm!" purred Alan, arching under the caress. His hard-on stiffened again, beginning to throb in counterpoint to Kynan's touch.

In a trice, Kynan had Alan on his back, hovering over him to kiss him deeply, with all his old skills. The flutter of feathers fell around them like a tent, blocking out the world. He breathed in the heady odor of wet dog, of steam and mechanical gears, oil and grease, and for the first time it really hit him. His beast was silent; this was all Kynan the man ... or whatever he was. He waited for the hunger, but nothing happened. There was only the want, minus the crushing need.

He drew back, fingers tickling Alan's cheeks until he opened his eyes.

"Alan?" asked Kynan softly. He wasn't afraid; he was in control of himself, body and mind, and there was no telling when he might have another such opportunity.

The werewolf's golden eyes opened, the desire in them hitting Kynan harder than any of the Prince's punches. Then Alan smiled, and Kynan knew he was lost.

He fell on that mouth, licking and kissing and nipping, moving up his jaw line and down the tilted angle of his throat. Alan's hands came up to his shoulders, the contact making him flinch away, hissing.

"Sorry," said Alan, eyes wet with sorrow.

Kynan kissed him briefly, giving him a reassuring smile. "Shh, it's fine."

He smiled a small, nervous smile at the stunningly handsome man who cradled him in his arms. "Then, um, then fuck me, then." He held his breath, blushing furiously.

A shudder ripped through Kynan and his eyes fell closed for a second. "I ..." He hesitated, staring deep into the wide, golden eyes below him. "D-daylight, Alan, why do you love me?"

"Why not?" Alan grinned, reaching up to gingerly caress Kynan's cheek.

Kynan drew back, shoving at the wings until they got out of his way. "I don't know why I feel this way. It's not a demon trait."

"Kynan," said Alan, following. He touched the top of his knee. "You're only half-demon."

"I know!" he blurted. "But I'm not human, either! I'm not human and I --"

Alan caught him before he could retreat further, cupping Kynan's chin in both hands. "I don't care," he insisted. "Look." He pressed one of his hands against his groin. "Feel that? That's for you. I want, um." Clearing his throat and blushing deeper, Alan leaned forward and kissed him.

He'd kissed or been kissed a sum total of three times. Behind closed lips, Kynan moaned, mouth opening slightly to kiss back. Alan clung to him, hands sliding back under his ears to hold him firmly.

At one time, Kynan had studied all the ways to pleasure a lover, with lessons on kissing alone lasting hours. This was as virginal and hesitant a kiss as ever he'd known, and yet, as he let himself be kissed, Alan grew bolder. There was no doubt as to what memories he now accessed.

Sensing Kynan's discomfort, Alan let him go.

"Ky?"

Kynan glanced at him, eyes downcast, body angled away in shame.

"You're tired, take us back." He tried to smile reassuringly. He wanted to be held, badly so, wanted to be touched and kissed and to be told that everything would be all right. He wanted to stay here forever, to not go back to their strange, frightening prison, but exhaustion pulled at both of them. There was something dreadfully wrong, and if Alan was going to keep this fragile connection between them, to really have it grow into something more meaningful, then he could not ignore his -- what had Kynan called it? -- his pairling? Yes, that was it.

He could not ignore his pairling's needs.

"I'm not --" he protested weakly.

"Kynan." Alan crossed his arms over his chest, giving the halfling a chiding look.

He sighed, deeper, shivering as a surge of fear pushed beyond his control.

Alan patted Kynan's arm. "It'll be all right. It has to be. We're together now. We'll get through this, right? Together?"

Together had a nice ring to it....

"And Kynan?"

"What?"

"Will you sprout wings again sometime? They look good on you."

"Fuck you," he grunted in annoyance, making Alan laugh, which pushed aside the worry and concerns over the more immediate future that in turn annoyed Kynan even more and made Alan laugh louder. Eventually, they were both giggling hysterically, as much from nervous tension as true merriment. When they had gained control over themselves again, Kynan and Alan exchanged identical, determined-if-shaky looks, and Kynan dropped them out of the dreamscape.

\\ ..Exit Dreamscape.. //

Kynan blinked his eyes open with a groan. He hurt even worse than before, dizzy and weak. It used to be a simple thing to grab that pain, and any other unwanted emotions and push them aside where they couldn't interfere with things, but his awareness had greatly expanded and he could hardly tell where his feelings ended and Alan's began. Until he woke, too, and the crazy double-echo was back. Kynan groaned again and forced himself to concentrate. Once the danger of passing out had passed, he opened his eyes to look around.

They were alone now, a single lantern burning dimly, low on oil. His eyes met Alan's and he was hit with a wave of reassurance, a bolt of emotion that rocked him back in his seat. The twin daggers in his back twisted, turning his back into a mess of agony, which got another broadsided attack of remorse and sympathy and Kynan moaned quietly, shaking his head.

Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it!

I'm sorry! Alan replied, eyes rounded in frightened worry. What am I doing? Tell me, I'll stop! Tell me!

"Augh! Stop shouting at me!" Kynan snapped out loud. He mentally shoved at Alan, pushing back the emotional assault. The effort only made both cry out in agony, a strong, abrading, tearing feeling akin to when the elemental had tried to absorb Kynan. He instantly turned his mind to something plain, like the wall, focusing instead on narrowing his own awareness, of shrinking down the bond between himself and Alan into a mere trickle, so that Alan whispered instead of shouted everything that occurred to him.

The mental blocks were hard to form and tiring, and Kynan sagged against his bonds when he was done. He stared at the ceiling now and tried desperately to think of absolutely nothing. His head hurt like he'd offered it as a blacksmith's anvil.

I've got an idea, Alan thought at him.

The whisper still rattled around inside Kynan's head, but that was a pain he could ignore. "What?"

How much can you control ... this?

"I don't know." Speaking didn't hurt as much as thinking. "Why?"

Alan spoke to ease the pounding in his own skull, "Can you make it seem like the ..." He plucked the necessary word out of a lifetime and more's supply of Kynan's memories. "Pair-Bond didn't work?"

Kynan frowned. "If one fails, the two involved die."

"But you're only half, and I'm a werewolf. Who can really say what to expect from this?"

"But ..." They'll kill you!

"What?"

"They'll kill you. Can you really not ..." Hear me?

"Can I not what?"

"Never mind." This could be bad.

"Anyway," Alan continued, "if they kill me, then problem solved, right?"

"Uh." Kynan frowned. “If they kill you, Alan, then I’ll die, too.”

“Oh. I didn’t --“

“Stop that.”

Alan turned an innocent look on Kynan. “Stop what?”

“It’s not romantic; it’s dangerous.” He scowled as Alan’s smile softened even further, but then the werewolf shook his head. His face lost its dream-like quality as he focused on their predicament.

"They're going to torture us, aren't they? You don't need to answer that; I can see it in your eyes. And, um, they’re going to torture me to get you to tell them what you know -- of course, I don’t know what you know because you won’t tell me; but if we can convince them the bond didn't work and they won't get anything out of torturing me, because you won’t talk, then they’ll stop torturing me and think of something else. Right?"

“I have no idea what you just said.”

The very thought of saving himself while leaving Kynan open to further hurts turned Alan's stomach inside out, but he had to face up to the fact that Kynan had a much higher pain tolerance.

He cleared his throat. “Um, they’ll torture me a little but you won’t be affected. You can do that, right?”

“I think so,” said Kynan slowly.

“If you don’t react the way they expect they’ll have no reason to continue torturing me, right? Because the bonding-thing didn’t work.”

Self-loathing and a sense of worthlessness and ate at Kynan, because he was glad. If Alan was tortured, he didn't know if he would be able to stay calm.

"Th-that's a good idea, Alan. It's beneficial to know our weaknesses, as well as our strengths. I couldn't stand it if they hurt you, but, they're going to test us."

The werewolf preened under the praise before saying seriously, "You can't help me. If I don't scream, they'll know something's up."

Kynan winced. "I know."

"How long are we likely to be alone?"

"I don't know."

"Then you need to rest. We both do." He didn't know how long they had been in that room together, but he did know that Kynan had slept only a few minutes at a time. That wasn't enough to be restful, and his fatigue sapped Alan's meager reserves.

Kynan nodded in agreement, but his mind wanted to continue mulling things over and weighing their options.

Sleep.

He frowned, but Alan had his eyes closed, leaning his head back against the chair. He gave in to the overwhelming fatigue and let sleep claim him. Kynan fought out of stubbornness, but it was of no practical use. Soon, he slept as well.

He woke suddenly to a jerk on his hair, and with the nagging suspicion he'd just been pulled out of an incredibly wild and amazing dream, which left him disoriented and confused. Blinking upward in that awkward position, Kynan stared into the demon prince's amused green eyes. He scowled.

"Wanted you awake for this," said the demon. He released Kynan's head to thump against the chair and quickly slit the bindings holding Alan and Kynan's arms together. Grabbing the werewolf's arm, he yanked.

Skin gave with an awful, ripping sound. As their blood had mingled, the skin around both cuts had healed affixed to the other. Alan, awake as soon as he heard the door open but pretending otherwise, jerked reflexively, tears coming to his eyes with the whining keen that slipped out around dry lips and tongue. Kynan hissed, head averted, eyes squeezed shut. He swallowed the bile that rose to the back of his mouth and concentrated on steadying his breathing.

Then Xeran grabbed the still overly tender wrist and twisted. Alan whimpered and tried to bite, and was clubbed upside the head. He snarled to hide his fear.

Kynan met the Prince's gaze steadily, refusing to glance down at his arm or over at Alan. "You wanted me awake for what?"

"Are you familiar with the legends of a Pair-Bond?" asked the prince, rubbing his thumb against the partially healed cut on the captured arm. The werewolf squirmed, but Xeran only had eyes for the other prisoner.

"And what if I am?"

A large, clawed hand wrapped around Alan's throat and squeezed. Alan gasped and writhed, and Kynan did glance at him, but he only let bemusement cross his face, ignoring the prickling sensation against his own throat. The Prince frowned and squeezed harder.

Kynan lifted an eyebrow. "You're going to kill him." Alan gasped, cut arm pulling futilely at the Prince's arm, face turning a ghastly shade of blotchy red.

Xeran's scowl deepened. He loosed his hold, letting the werewolf's head sag to the side while he gagged and wheezed. Kynan saw the Prince reach for his knife again and braced himself. The demon yanked on Alan's hair again to tilt his face aside. He pressed the tip of the knife against his collarbone, drawing blood. Alan's whimper grew into a high-pitched whine as the cut deepened, the trickle growing into a stream, hot against his chest.

The two demons locked eyes.

"This can't be!" growled the Prince.

Kynan smirked. "Can't be what?" He grunted as the demon's backhanded blow smacked his head against the restraints. He wondered if this was Alan's 'something else.' If it was, it wasn't anything Kynan couldn't handle, so long as Alan didn't interfere or draw attention to himself, and he dared not turn his eyes from Xeran in order to find out.

"I take it," Kynan murmured, licking at a split and bloody lip, "that something didn't go well?" The Prince hit him again and Kynan grinned at him. "I'm feeling well, why, thank you for asking."

Claws sliced deep gouges across that handsome chest, the Prince watching the werewolf for any reaction, but the boy stayed half-curled over, blood oozing out from between his fingers, whimpering and trembling. The demon looked between halfling and werewolf uncertainly for a minute and then stepped back.

"No matter," he spat. "I'll get what I want, one way or another." Pain was only one tool in Xeran's arsenal.

The Prince was far too calm for Kynan's liking and he frowned in sudden concern which made the demon laugh, and not pleasantly.

"Never," said Kynan, but even to his own ears the response came out uncertain.

"You care so little for your lover?"

"I told you. We're not lovers."

The Prince punched him over the broken cheekbone and Kynan blacked out for a second, coming to with the demon prince hovering over him and screaming furiously. Then his head was forced backward, a hot mouth covering his own, fingers along his jaw to force his mouth open. He was trapped, fastened too securely to do much more than wiggle futilely. The pain in his back and face faded to nothing at the humiliation and shame he felt as the demon over him groped him with a heavy hand. His emotions were too raw, his past too near at hand to immediately hold back. Anger at his own helplessness expanded too fast and spilled out of Kynan's control. He'd sworn never to go back to that place, not even in his head, but it was too much -- too much!

No! he screamed at himself, slamming down the walls of his self-control, but he knew it was already too late. The damage had been done.

Kynan felt the growl before he heard it. The low, dark sound reverberated up through his bones, warming something deep down inside that had long been neglected.

The Prince released Kynan. He observed how the werewolf had uncurled. Its hurts seemingly forgotten, the werewolf strained against its bonds, half-changed into its animal form, mouth gnashing and slavering, eyes blistering with rage. Even as he watched, the beast wilted and changed back to a confused, hurting boy.

Xeran smiled and clapped his hands slowly, the sound echoing in the chamber. Turning his intent gaze on Kynan, Xeran saw the truth written all over his guilty and apprehensive face. The Pair-Bond had worked!

"Liar!" He spat at Kynan, who flinched, spittle joining the blood on his face. Stepping away, Xeran smiled in deep satisfaction. Bonding the two dogs was even better than his original plan. Now, nothing could make Kynan disobey him, not so long as Xeran had the werewolf. He'd find out everything the halfling knew, and then he'd take great pleasure in tearing apart his loyalties.

He stopped at the doorway, before calling his guards. He smirked at Kynan, enjoying the other's uncertain fear. "You are mine, now."

Kynan shuddered, closing his eyes and looking away. Xeran laughed, visions of himself upon the throne dancing in his head. All the missing pieces were falling into place. On the solstice, his sister would be forced to name him as her heir, and then the world would be his.

First, the World of Night, then the World of Light, and then the Borderlands would be brought under his rule. Once again, demonkind would roam the worlds at will, feared and obeyed by all. Oh, yes, it would be glorious!