When had night fallen?Lloyd hadn't a clue. Locked in a state of coma, occasionally able to open his eyes and see the blurred surroundings.If they were familiar, his brain couldn't place them.In fact, Blake had stowed him in the storage room. Going about his day with trepidation. Every time someone went below, his heart seized. Night could not come soon enough,As soon as the moon rose, Blake signalled for his closest allies. They dragged the limp figure across the deck, concealed by shadows and the blessing of whatever beast watched them.The cave wasn't far. The musty air was stagnant with the smell of rotted seaweed and brine, and the gloom was barely broken by a single, dying candle.But it was enough to make the engraved dagger, lying on a ragged rock, glimmer menacingly."I know the words..." Blake whispered. "He speaks to me. Good job, too. I ain't book smart, and I don't know these strange languages. But I hope you all have strong stomachs. This ritual is gruesome, but," he

Lloyd stared in awed silence. Watching the blood form a large pool around the fallen figure. Something black and oily seeped from the open flesh, sliding away into the shadows. Something that a sword couldn't defeat.His own cuts weren't that deep, but blood still flowed freely from the wounds that marked his skin in a grim mosaic. He barely felt them. He was totally captured by the scene that had played out, and to see Nathaniel almost slice the man's head off... He didn't know what to do. He could only blink when he heard Nathaniel speak to him. The words were unable to be registered."You... Killed a man...For me.." He was still wrapping his head around it. "Thank you...For coming after me. I thought...well, I guess it doesn't matter..."He swallowed, shifting onto his knees and reaching out. He felt like a child. Weak and feeble, needing a hand to find his feet.But his emotions were anything but childish. A deep need he never thought he possessed, having felt only primal urges

Lloyd held Nathaniel's eyes as he slid his hand under the linen shirt and pushed it from the broad shoulders.His skin was badly marked with scars from old fights, although a snaking tattoo cleverly disguised the longest on his side.Dropping the fabric to the floor, he ran his fingers through the man's hair before dropping his hand to knead his crotch through his pants gently; a shudder of delight pulsated through him at the feeling beneath.Nathaniel shifted to grab his wrist, amused by the plaintive complaint he received, Lloyd's lips curving into an annoyed pout."Problem, lad?""You're the cause of it." "I'm the cause of many things..." Nathaniel said quietly, "Although this is possibly the first time, I don't have to feel guilty about it..."Lloyd's sulk melted into a smile as he drew the man into a deep kiss, the heat rising like an inferno in his own body. If he had any doubts about his actions, they had melted away like snow in summer."I want you to forget your guilt; I wan

Lloyd gazed over the open water, closing his eyes as the salt stung them, blown in from the soft waves that caressed the lonely shore."Just tell me what you need, and I'll do it," he smiled at Nathaniel tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck. The etching of a deep scar still lay there, concealed by his hair. It wasn't the first time he'd nearly lost his life. But that was a story for another day; he just wanted the man to know he wasn't ignorant of violence. Nathaniel reached out, his finger ghosting the red mark and sending tingles through Lloyd's body."I can always take what comes at me," he whispered, turning to kiss the man's hand. "And I have the marks to prove it."Nathaniel gave a sad smile and withdrew his hand with a shake of his head."I have plenty of stories for all my scars. Each of 'em fairly gruesome..." He remembered all of them. They weren't events one could forget. "They ain't important." He turned away abruptly. "Come to my room whenever you're ready, and I'll sho

Thus, he loved. Thus, he lostLife was cruel, and he paid the cost.Oh, illness and death was sharp and strongHe cursed the Gods of new and old.Above in Heaven, he doth hear. He felt, he sensed, the mortal fear Thy mortal soul, you'll suffer still But blessed you'll be when you slay evil.Lloyd tossed in his sleep as pain and infection coursed through his limp body. His dreams moved freely, each more unpleasant than the last.He sat, his body slack and covered in clammy sweat, in the damp, dark cave where Blake had trapped him. Like towering spectres, the shadows seemed to mock him as unseen creatures stirred within them.A grotesque figure, human in form but radiating a foul stench, stood at the mouth of the cave, blocking the light.'I hunger. Death is unkind. The master will not allow me to feed except on my own body. I ate my heart. It broke my teeth...but I crave soft flesh.'Blake's mouth dripped with desperation and grim desire as it reached Lloyd's ears. He could almos