“Get him out of his clothes,” the Widow snapped at them.

  They were all three in her workshop, a mixture of wood and lust rocks burning in the fireplace. The Widow thrust three long metal poles into the fire—at their ends were the brands that would soon be cooking his skin.

  Settie squinted at him. “You heard her. Undress. I’m not your lover. I’m not going to strip you.”

  Gray grimaced at the pain of his wounds as he peeled off his coat. “I don’t need a lover at the moment, but I do need a healer. Can you help me with the wounds you caused?”

  “She’s good at hurting people, isn’t she?” the Widow quipped from behind them as she busied herself gathering the supplies she would need.

  Settie sighed but didn’t respond.

  Gray took off his filthy shirt and let it drop to the floor. He grew dizzy at the gore painting his chest. He didn’t even have the energy to channel mana there. He just felt spent.

  Settie reached out and touched his skin. He felt the pain get worse, and then itching started, which made the itch of his second mana mark even worse. He squeezed his eyes shut against the pain and discomfort.

  The Widow slammed a tub down next to them and then poured a copper kettle into it. “You might not be his lover, but you can be his nurse. Clean him up as best as you can. He needs to be naked, though. Throw his clothes out to my brother. We have a cleaning chest to take care of the smell. It is potent. But it’s nothing compared to your stink, Captain.”

  Settie laughed. “So are we going to be exchanging barbs all night, Emerilia? Should I comment on your illegal activities? I still have connections with every family in the Belly. You do not want me as your enemy.”

  “I certainly don’t want you as a friend. Let’s remain enemies, Captain Sevanya. What would my life be without my hate for you?”

  Gray stripped the rest of way and stood naked in front of the two women. He was getting used to be naked in front of random women. Oh, how very strange his life had become.

  Settie gathered up his clothes and left him and the Widow alone for a moment.

  “I’m sorry I had to bring her,” he said. “I wouldn’t have chosen for this to happy, but there were some complications.”

  The Widow smiled at him. “She said life is suffering. Life is also complicated. I knew this moment would come. Get on the table. We do have to clean you. That’s sloth squid on you, I think, yes?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Ironic, that it was sloth squid that killed the captain squad after she sacrificed my husband and my friends to save herself.”

  “She’s a hard woman, but I did something similar. We all have our sins.”

  “Only seven,” Emerilia said with a sad smile. “Not that many.”

  “Oh, I think there are far more than seven in this complicated world full of suffering.”

  “Hush now, precious Gray,” the Widow said. “Let me get started cleaning you up.”

  She dipped a sponge in the water and got to work.

  His wounds on his chest and back had healed, thanks to Settie’s magic.

  The captain returned and picked up a soft towel. “Let me help you with him. You will wet him, and I will dry him. Then we can burn him.”

  Gray laughed. “We have a full night ahead of us then.”

  The two women worked in silence, and it might’ve been pleasant if not for the fact there was so much hatred and tension in the air.

  Settie broke that awful silence first. “Did you try another bond? You know how cores work. You know that sometimes another bond can form after your core has lost one.”

  “It wasn’t just my core, you wicked woman,” the Widow hissed like a wounded viper. “It was my heart. Both were broken. I didn’t want anyone else. I wanted my bonded, my love. Have you ever been in love, Captain? You have lived thousands of years. I would think you would’ve found someone to tolerate your evil.”

  Settie laughed a little. “Yes. I’ve known love. But a bond like you had? Never. Maybe I dreamed of such a bond when I was a girl, back at the dawn of the world, but I knew it would never happen to me. I was right. I like being right. Maybe I like it more than I like being happy.”

  The Widow seemed to soften. “Have you ever been happy?”

  “Once,” Settie said. “It was a long time ago, in a distant land, I found purpose. I found love. I thought that life would play out like a fairytale, and me and my love would be together forever. Not just one love, mind you, but two. I felt so rich, so lucky, so very blessed.”

  “In Alastria,” the Widow whispered. “Are you really that old?”

  “Everyone likes to think I am. So why would I take away from their pleasure? I shall forever be Captain Sette Sevanya, ancient, mysterious, as old as the gods themselves, who mercilessly slays her own squads when they don’t perform. I caused the fall of Alastria, but that wasn’t good enough. I tore down the Wrath Tower, cracking open hell, so I could find and fuck the Troublemaker himself. I am sin incarnate.”

  The Widow chuckled. “You are sin incarnate, at least in my mind. And you are alone and lonely. From your voice, I can tell. I’m glad you have suffered.”

  It was Settie who laughed. “Such kindness warms my cold, dead heart. You do know that you were blessed, don’t you? You had a bond who loved you, and you loved him, and you experienced a kind of heaven few people will ever know. Yes, it ended in heartbreak, but that is this world, caught between heaven and hell, a terrible mixture of both. I want to apologize to you, but like I said before, I would do what I did before.”

  “Even though your squad was killed.” The Widow wiped grime off his leg.

  “We are caught in the moments of our lives, insects in amber, and we must make the best decisions we have with the information. Of course, I knew that both of our squads were destined to die, I would’ve made a different decision. I didn’t hate you, your husband, or your squad. I made a cold calculation. I was wrong.”

  “Maybe, Captain,” the Widow said in a thick voice, filled with emotion. “Just maybe, all cold calculations are wrong, every time. No matter the outcome. Maybe there are more important things in the world than our desires, even the desire to live, no matter what happens to others.”

  Settie grunted, wiping sloth blood off of Gray’s face. “If I had sacrificed myself so you and your husband could’ve lived, then yes, you would’ve been happy. But I would’ve been dead, robbed of my life.”

  “Your very long, long life. And who says death is the end? Maybe you have known such suffering because of your cold calculations. Maybe if you lived differently, you would’ve been happier.”

  Settie laughed. “You have hated me all these years, and yet, you would’ve made the same choice if it had been yours. My life for your husbands.”

  “No,” the Widow said, a seriousness to her voice that made Gray open his eyes and look at her. She was staring at Settie with such intensity. “No, if we had all worked together, we could’ve escaped the envy imps. And if a sacrifice had to be made, my husband and I would’ve made it…together. We would’ve gladly given up our lives to save our squad and yours.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Settie completely stopped her work. She stared back at the little dwarven woman. “Yes. I believe that, Emerilia. And maybe that generosity is what drew your bonded to you in the first place. I won’t call you weak or foolish for offering up your own life to save the lives of the people around. But I won’t call it a strength, either. I am going to get what I want out of this life, and nothing is going to stop me.”

  “And there is your suffering,” the Widow said softly. “I won’t throw more barbs.”

  The Widow Stone wiggled Gray’s toes. “You have given me a great gift, Grayson Fade. You brought my greatest enemy into my house, and in doing so, you have freed me from my hate. Now, my enemy has my pity.”

  Settie laughed. “I’ll take your pity, Emerilia, Stone. It feels far better than your hate, which in this little room, was very uncomfortable indeed.”

  That made the Widow laugh. “Now, let’s burn this boy and give him magic.”

  “Agreed. Are the irons ready?”

  “They are.” The Widow moved around until she was touching Gray’s head. “This is going to hurt. A lot.”

  “Life is suffering,” he said. “But there is more to life than pain. It can’t rain all the time.”

  “No, it can’t,” she agreed.

  Settie stepped back. “I’m assuming we do the heart last. He has a very fine heart. After all, I gave it to him.”

  “And it’s a fine heart,” the Widow said. “I’m assuming since you are so old, you were there when Zaccai of the Fire used the trayah jalana to give himself a core. Which side did he start on?”

  Settie laughed. “I’m old, yes, but not that old. You can’t blame me for the First God War. As for the second and third? Maybe.”

  The Widow rolled her eyes. “Let’s start with the left one. Now, where is that stick?”

  Settie sighed. “That damn stick. I doubt I’ll ever be free of it.”

  “Maybe you will. After I use the demon mana, I doubt it will be the same. There’s a good chance it will turn to dust before the night is over.”

  Gray watched as she picked up the stick in one hand and the brand in the other. “Hold him down, Captain.”

  He watched as the darkness inside his stick moved through her body and into the brand. The red-hot metal then turned golden.

  Settie clamped her hands down on Gray’s leg.

  “On the count of three, Gray,” the Widow said. “Ready?”

  “Ready to have real magic?” he chuckled. “More than ready.”

  The Widow started to count. “One, two—”

  Before she hit three, she jammed the burning brand into the sensitive skin of his left ankle. For a second, he didn’t feel anything, and he was disappointed. This had to work. He had risked everything to get this power.

  Then, he smelled his hair burning and his flesh cooking. Then, the pain hit, and he screamed. How could he not? It felt like she was sawing off his foot. And the worst part, he knew that once she removed the hot metal, the pain would continue for days, for weeks, maybe for the rest of his life. Maybe the brands would always hurt and that was why his meridians would stay open.

  He couldn’t think about that.

  A random thought came to him. Here he was, naked on a table, with two beautiful women, and he hadn’t enjoyed a single moment of lust. It was unfair. First, the two women dueled with words, and now they were cooking him. Fuck!

  He couldn’t help but start laughing maniacally.

  The Widow removed the grand but then smacked the wound with her hand. “Channel mana to your leg, Gray. Now. You’ll feel the demon mana, but you should be able to use it. Draw it up into your core.”

  He tried to concentrate, but he couldn’t. It hurt so much, too much to push the mana to.

  Settie grabbed his hair and pulled. “Open your fucking eyes.”

  He did and found himself staring into her cold but beautiful face. She was sweating, but she still smelled so good.

  “This is what you wanted, Grayson Fade. This is self-mastery. Can you think and focus when your animal mind just wants to flee from the torture? Can you master the pain?”

  “Yes!” he hissed through clenched teeth.

  Then he found the main, and he felt his core expand out with mana, and he forced it down, down through his meridians in his left leg, and to that awful burn. The scent of rotted fish filled his nose, as he found darkness around that wound. Instead of pushing his golden light into the inky cloud, he sucked that midnight energy up through his meridians and into his core. Then, it was like swirling the blackest charbrew into a cup of milk. That darkness soon melted into a golden light, and he felt the meridians open.”

  “Heal him,” the Widow snapped. “And we can do the right one. You’d think it would be better, but it’s only going to get worse.”

  “Don’t say that!” Settie roared. “He can do it. He has to do it.”

  The widow sighed. “So you can get what you want.”

  “So he can get what he wants.”

  Gray hated that they were talking like he wasn’t there. “Do it. Do the second one. I can take it. It’s just pain.”

  “And there is more to life than pain,” the Widow said in a hollow voice.

  Oddly enough, Settie’s voice was warmer. “It can’t rain all the time.”

  She touched his burned ankle, and it hurt for a second, until it started to itch like crazy. Again, his back echoed the discomfort.

  “The right ankle, this time, Gray,” the Widow had her hand on him. Settie moved over, grabbed him, and they did the same thing.

  It was worse this time—not only was the pain in his right ankle terrible, the left one ignited with fresh pain. The room smelled like a kitchen, and he was in the fire. He found himself without much mana left in his core, and he wasn’t sure what had happened. Then he knew. Most of his mana had gone to the wound in his left ankle.

  He had only a little left, and he pushed that down to his right ankle, even though it was hard to concentrate. He was on fire, and not just his ankles, but his entire back, his entire spine because of the mana marks there. It was like he was laying on hot coals.

  He flashed back to something that Blind John had told him. “Most people think life is easy when things are going well, but even then, most people will complain. Most people’s lives are hard when everything falls apart, but still they complain. Life is just life. The minutes are just minutes. Breath is just breath. The sun shines on both the blessed and the damned.”

  Blind John. That letter. Back in his room. Why hadn’t he read that letter?

  Because not knowing was easier than knowing.

  And being burned was easier than the burning he would feel if he read that Blind John was dead, and it was his fault.

  His mind raced, his heart was pounding, and he felt so empty, so used up, but still, he managed to pull the demon mana up through his meridians into his core, where it all turned into a golden light, but that light was fading.

  If it faded completely, he was certain that nothing, nothing at all would be able to re-ignite it. He’d become a husk.

  But what could he do? He was in too much pain to be angry, and he felt no emotion except despair, and that wasn’t one of the seven instincts.

  He remembered when he’d felt empty before, in the Pleasure Market, and Settie had been there. Settie had helped him with a kiss.

  “I need mana,” Gray said. “Settie, I need you to kiss me.”

  The captain gulped down a sob. “No, Gray, I can’t. Please, don’t ask me to do that., could you…could you kiss him?”

  “Me?” the little woman thundered. “I haven’t kissed a man in twenty years!”

  “He won’t make it if we don’t,” Settie said.

  “Your life for his,” the Widow said. “I won’t do it. Maybe you are here for this lesson.”

  Settie started to weep.

  Which made Gray laugh. “Am I really that bad of a kisser?”

  “I won’t survive it,” the dragon lady said.

  “No.” The Widow’s voice was ice. “You probably won’t. But neither did my husband.”

  Settie took his head in her hands. Her tears dripped onto his face. And then, she was kissing him, and it was this perfect moment in time. Her lips were soft, wet, gentle. Her smell was all around him. But more, it was her core, reaching out to his, and his core, drinking in her warmth.

  His hand moved to her back, and he felt her need, her body, her lust. And her lust became his own, and he felt the mana pour into him. He couldn’t help but stiffen at her kiss, at her touch…her hand was on his chest, feeling him, and then, her hand went to his sex, gripping it, and he arched his back. They weren’t just kissing with their lips, they were kissing with their tongues, exploring each other, doing the one thing that Settie said would destroy her.

  The captain tore herself away right before those sexual feelings reached their climax. Not for him. But for her.

  “Do it, bitch,” Settie hissed.

  The Widow didn’t pause. She rammed the brand into his chest, above his heart, which was screaming like a demon bird—a lust crow—in his chest.

  And then he was on fire, lost in darkness, until Settie grabbed one hand. The Widow grabbed the other, and he felt their love and admiration.

  The kiss had filled his core to overflowing, and it wasn’t just lust, but he felt a certain humility, that this ancient woman was too afraid to kiss him because of the feelings it filled her with. She had been in love before, and he felt that love, and not just love, but a great lust, hours, days, in bed with not just one lover but two. It was forbidden—he was a dragon prince. It wasn’t done. But they were in love and lust, and it was new, exciting, forbidding…and in the end, not just heart-breaking but world-shattering.

  She really was Princess Cassandra.

  All that golden mana in his core soaked up all the demon mana from the brand in his chest. The pain and demon magic wasn’t just on his chest, though, it hit his heart and went everywhere, through every meridian in every part of him. He really was afraid he ‘d orgasm in front of the two women, but thankfully, that didn’t happen.

  A second later, he was taking from the pain, taken to the place of water and stars.

  He was on the island, on the dirt in front of the door to the shack. It had happened. He’d reached the shack. He pushed open the door, and while there were any number of women in there, all he saw was Settie, smiling at him even as tears dripped down her cheeks.

  And then, she held him, held him to comfort him and to comfort herself. Her need was vast, unquenchable, and yet, he felt up to the task. He knew his worth, and that pride, that good, good pride, gave him mana.

  Enough for him to return to his body and his meridians, every single one, filled with light.

  He let out a breath, knowing he was going to sleep for a week.

  Laughing, he asked, “Anyone up for a game of Chaotica?”