Sin of Fury (4 page)

It had been so long ago, it was
amazing that the hate and betrayal was still so fresh. Auro would
never know how it felt to lose someone who meant the world to them.
It always amazed him, that his brother could be so close-minded.
Now it only angered him.

Amena and Auro were the only ones who
understood him. He loved them both equally, had cherished them. It
had torn his heart when he realized that Amena was only a whore,
using him for his power and position.

He laughed bitterly, hands tightening
around the picture frame. How would she feel now, knowing that he
had been so lowered in status, no one knew who he was? Before,
grown, battle-scarred men had turned their head away with fear for
meeting his soulless gaze. That had been his one pride, and he had
not known that Amena called to the dark like he called to
death.

Darkness had taken her. Death kept him
alive.

Lyne stared down at the faded picture,
knowing that the time for him to rid himself of her was growing
closer.

He had promised himself that when they
finally got Talon, he would give her up, forget her. By then, his
revenge would have been exacted. It had taken longer than Auro had
thought to find the man, and Lyne had only grown more attached.
Even through death she held his heart in her grasp.

The last time they had been too late.
A raid from France had been Talon’s downfall. A reputable baron
with a beautiful wife, he had been the envy of many and, as Lyne
was later told by his serfs, kept a strict hand and was horridly
loyal to the king.

That loyalty had been his downfall.
Lyne could remember running through his manor, praying that they
weren’t too late. When he had barged into the room, he had known
immediately that he hadn’t made it.

Talon hadn’t known about his powers,
his ability to take over legions, hundreds, even thousands of men.
The woman that he had died with had not been his real love, but
some woman that his parents had arranged for him. The sex had not
unleashed his powers, and before the raid. Auro had been ecstatic.
The turn of fate had been in their favor, he had boasted as they
made the long travel to Talon’s hold.

Auro had been wrong.

The flames had eaten the two alive.
Lyne had stared in despair, in fury... They had been too late, once
again. His chest tightened with remembered pain. His mind turned
back to Amena, their last failure, a shame.

“
I’m such a fool,” he
whispered. His anguished whisper turned into an angry roar. The
picture hit the wall with a bang. Glass flew at him, the explosion
not bringing relief as he had hoped, but pain. He was truly done
with her. No longer would his thoughts dwell on Amena.

Dropping his eyes to the picture, he
stayed still. The silence within the room was deafening after the
shattering glass. The faded piece of paper floated to the ground,
the frayed edges brushing the wall delicately. He had held it
softly for so long, had taken care of the picture as if it were the
real woman. Now it was time to forget. To move on. To conquer and
kill Talon.

It was the time to forget about the
whore who had ruined him and sent him into his endless
life.

~*~

“
Are you as happy as I,
brother?” Lyne asked over his shoulder.

His tunic was stained with
blood, his dark brown hair matted with dust and other
unmentionables. The two braids on either side of his face were
longer than the rest,
just as Lyne’s were.

Auro nodded shortly,
looking up at Lyne’s hut. He shared it with his wife, Amena, while
Auro had the one adjacent to them. The separation had been painful
for them both, but Auro had refused to be around them on their
wedding night and every night after that.

“
Come now,” Lyne teased, a
lilt in his voice. “We shall have a feast! A feast greater than the
Gods could hope for!”

His boast went unheard,
for Auro was staring around them with a new look.

Suspicion.

“
Did you tell Amena that
we would be back today? Alix said his squire was taking missives
for the families back with him. Surely you sent her a
letter?”

Lyne shook his head. “I
was hoping to surprise her,” he said, starting to frown. The house
was too quiet, he thought absently. The normal laughing voice was
not accompanied by her maids, nor was anyone walking
about.

He frowned at his brother.
“Should I have?” he asked tentatively. Surely she would have been
home, tending to the household. Had she taken ill? he thought,
leaving his brother in the greeting room. Throwing the curtains
back to gaze into his room, he saw the unwrinkled bed
sheets.

There was only one thing
on the bed, a woman’s tunic. He walked into the room, barely
noticing when his brother left the house. The fabric was soft
against his nose as he breathed in her scent, his longing for her
coming back in a rush.

He put the chiffon down
slowly.

“
My love?” he called out,
praying that she was playing a game with him.

After waiting for several
minutes, he came to the conclusion that she wasn’t. His anger
ignited. Lyne strode from the room, mind racing. His general had
come back early, after the first invasion. He hadn’t said why, and
Lyne could really care less.

Maybe he would know what
happened to his wife, he thought as he strode to the General’s hut.
Several people backed away from him, mothers grabbing their
children. Men turned their eyes away, looking down. It was normal
for them, but this time… this time, it was because of something
else—he knew it.

He knocked for several
minutes, yet no answer came. Growing impatient, he opened the door
and strode inside, knowing he was breaking the rules of
etiquette.

The room was clean,
spotless. A chair sat in the corner, a cart next to it. He walked
deeper into the house, forgetting about the war that he had just
come from and the fact that his general would be angered by his
intrusion.

He walked farther into the
place, his senses alert. The darkness of the house was unsettling,
causing him to stay quiet. With his hand on the hilt of his sword,
he stalked to the back of the house. The sounds that he heard
brought him to a halt.

Lyne paused, hand stilling
on the doorknob.

A deep voice mingled with
a soft, breathy one on the other side. His face paled, hand turning
numb.

Through the thing walls,
the sound of slick flesh sliding together could he
heard.

His ears rang. Feeling a
raging, boiling anger rising within his body, his very soul, he
shoved the door open.

He would never forget what
he saw.

Naked and covered with a
sheen of sweat, chest thrust into the air. Her legs were on either
side of his body, the dark contours glimmering with sweat in the
light. Her hair hung down her back, so pale it was almost
colorless. Ragged moans were coming from the man under her slick
body, and her hips were grinding against his pelvis.

One dark hand was wrapped
around her waist, the other on her breast. Even Lyne, standing from
the doorway, could hear how loudly she was breathing. The man under
her wasn’t in any better condition.

Lyne stared for all of
three seconds. Shock hit him. Next the pain. Then the unadulterated
fury of knowing that his general, one of the most trustful men in
the world, was fucking his wife. His face devoid of all emotion, he
strode into the room.

It took only a few seconds
for the couple to register him completely. Amena screamed, the
passion in her eyes quickly turning to fear.

Her terrified eyes stared
up at him as his hand reached forth. She shrank back instinctively,
whimpering, and scrambled off the general’s lap. Lyne grit his
teeth against the pain he felt when he noticed the bite marks
around her neck and breasts. He made to follow her. Amena glanced
desperately at her lover for help. The general, however, just sat
there, watching them with dispassionate eyes. He didn’t even blink
when Lyne charged at her, didn’t even care that the woman he was
fucking just a few seconds ago was probably in mortal danger. Amena
scrambled back, her naked back hitting the wall, her eyes
flickering to the general’s impassive face, begging for help she
wouldn’t receive. She screamed in pain when Lyne’s hand latched
onto her hair.

“
Lyne, please…” she
begged, her voice high with panic. Her hands wrapped around his
wrists, trying to stop the yanking.

He only snarled,
tightening his grip. “I come home,” he started, looking at her
naked body in disgust, “and I find my wife fucking someone,
other
than
me?”

His roar had her
flinching. Amena dug her nails into his arm, trying to get him to
let go. Lyne turned away from her in disgust and looked at the
general. He was laying on the bed, watching indifferently. His hand
was holding his head up, and he was laying on his side, still erect
and damp with his wife’s sweat and juices.

Lyne stared at him,
ignorant of his wife’s fearful cries and pleading. “You don’t
care—at all?” he asked, the anger in his voice earning a raised
brow.

“
If you hadn’t intruded
into my home, this wouldn’t be happening,” the general said
carelessly, waving his hand. “Continue, if you may.”

His face contorted with
rage. Hands numb, a red haze coming over his vision, he dropped
Amena and lunged for the general. The urge to kill him was so
overwhelming --the general, one of the strongest and most dangerous
men Lyne had ever met, had grown to respect despite his hard
demeanor-- his chest felt like it was boiling.

The strong fist that
connected with his face made him shout, head falling back. Blood
fell from his nose, the rush of pain that hit behind his eyes
almost making him gasp. Instead of surrendering as he should have,
he drew himself up to his full height and met the General’s gaze,
the lure of retribution almost making him attack again.

“
Leave!” the general
roared, surging to his feet. Disgusted eyes met Amena’s and then
Lyne’s. The fury in them was evident. “Leave here! If you so much
as think that you can lay a hand on me without being punished—think
again. Get out of here!” he shouted, the power radiating from the
man startling and only fueling Lyne’s anger.

Amena’s eyes widened with
terror. She dragged herself to the General’s side, wrapping her
arms tightly around his leg. “Please, lover! Don’t let
him—“

The General’s eyes
connected with her pale ones, the repulsion radiating from him in
waves as he jerked from her grasp. “Take your whore, you foolish
bastard! Take her and leave my land! You made a grave mistake for
ever coming into my house and daring to lay a hand on
me.”

Lyne stared at him,
wishing with everything inside of him that he could kill him. His
own weakness sickened him. He vowed to get stronger, to annihilate
the general who had wronged him so. Right then, he knew that he
would do whatever he could to get his revenge.

Snarling, he grabbed Amena
by her hair and dragged her roughly away from the general. Her
pain-filled screams rang through the room, and when he would have
felt his heart soften towards her, he remembered how she had been
screaming for the general—with pleasure. His heart hardened, hate
flowing through his veins. A growl of disgust mixed with her cries
for mercy as he dragged her from the room.

He shoved her out of the
door, watching unfeelingly as she slammed into the wall, a small
gash appearing on her forehead. Eyes turning dead, the same time
that his heart froze, he picked her up by her arm and shoved her
into the street, naked as the day she was born.

The ultimate shame that
came over her face was not enough for him. Lyne looked back at the
house, the dark interior as eerie as the silence that it permitted.
Feeling his face flush with rage as women and men turned to look
upon the once happy couple, he took his sword from its
sheath.

The cold slide of metal,
the sick, gut-wrenching feeling that coursed through his body, and
the pained eyes of his wife were not lost to him. Amena cried out
in horror, scampering back, her hands trying to protect her modesty
even as she ran from her enraged husband. She tripped and almost
fell, catching herself with her arms at the last second. Hunched
over and heaving, she threw a panicked glance over her
shoulder.

Lyne advanced towards her,
his eyes dead. The love for her that always seemed to shine in his
expressive eyes was gone, probably forever. She crawled forward on
her hands and knees, sharp, tiny rocks embedding into her skin and
leaving abrasions that bled and dyed the cracked soil with blood.
One of the men from the crowd kicked her in the stomach, jeering.
She lurched and fell onto her back. The crowd laughed and screamed
obscenities at her. Amena looked up at the sky with tears in her
eyes. She was dead, finished. She had no one to blame but
herself.

Her attempt to escape
ended when she saw Lyne staring down at her. Sobs racked her body.
Ashamed, she was so ashamed. Her vision had gone oddly constricted,
the sides blacking out until there was only her husband’s face. The
betrayal she saw there cut her. But she wouldn’t be here to regret
it, would she? The fight drained out of her. She was
tired.