Page 66 of Ascendent
His soul placed his ice hand over Sasha’s, over Bear’s star.
Sasha closed his eyes. Snow flurried around him, cocooned him and wreathed him, filled his mouth, his nose, poured down his throat.
But it was all right.
He breathed in and felt a part of himself slide back into place.
“Sasha! Sasha, where are you?”
“Sergey?” Sasha leaped to his feet, whirling in a circle. Sergey’s scream was in the air, on the wind. He screamed Sasha’s name over and over, pleading for him.
“Sasha!”
“Sergey!” He tried to walk, tried to take a step. He fell face-first into the ash and snow.
Kilaqqi appeared, rolling him over. “Now you can hear him?”
“Now?”
“He has been screaming for you since we arrived. You could not hear him before. You couldn’t hear him without your soul. But now it is within you again.” He pressed his hand to Sasha’s chest. “Now you can hear your love’s soul call to you.”
“Why is Sergey’s soul here?” He grabbed Kilaqqi’s arms, shaking the older man. “Why? Why is he here?” Panic raked across his ribs.
“Your lover has been searching for you. He cast off a part of his own soul to scour the world for you. His soul sings songs of loneliness, of heartbreak. He yearns for you.”
“Govno, Sergey!” Standing, Sasha tried to run again. The ash, the snow, it fought him, slowed his footsteps like he was trapped in a nightmare.
“He searches frantically for you. You cannot find him. You must call him to you.” Kilaqqi sat abruptly, dropping to his knees in the snow. “Call him, Sasha. He will always respond to you.”
He turned. The bodies in the distance were still there, still pouring out their blood. It kept coming for him, kept rising, waves and waves of crimson. “Sergey,” he croaked. “Wherever you are, please, find me. I’m here. I love—”
He opened his eyes.
Starlight spun overhead, above the tops of the pine and spruce. A full moon stretched from one end of the clearing to the other. He could see theNasha Galaktika, the length of her arm, laying lazily across the sky. Beneath his cheek, bear fur warmed his skin, and the cool summer night kissed his naked thighs, made his skin prickle with goosebumps.
“Are we back?” He pushed himself up—
“Zvezda moya.” Sergey appeared, naked and straddling his lap. His lithe weight settled over Sasha’s thighs, their crotches, their cocks, aligning, stroking. Sergey’s hands cradled his face. “My love. I have missed you.”
“Sergey!” He grabbed Sergey’s hands. “How did you get to Krasnoyarsk, to Tura? To the camp? How did you find me?”
Sergey smiled. Through his eyes, his smile, Sasha saw the stars shining. Saw the moon carved from his cheekbones.
“You’re not really here. This is your soul.” He stroked Sergey’s arms, ran his hands down his lover’s sides, over his hips. Sergey felt real enough, his hard cock pulsing into Sasha’s. His heat was there,govno, so much heat. Sergey had always been hot enough to burn hell, and he brought that fire into Sasha’s soul every time. He was a nuclear core, the center of Sasha’s very own star. “How do I bring you home? How do I take you back to Sergey?”
Sergey’s soul curled over him, languidly pressing their bodies together. His cock rocked along Sasha’s. His spine arched. “I’ll ride home in your heart.”
He kissed him, and kissed him again, and again. His body responded to Sergey like it always had, his cock thick and hard and aching with need. Sergey writhed in his lap, driving them together, arching into him, rocking his chest, his hips, his cock, into Sasha. Sasha wrapped him in his arms, held him close. Cradled his skull in both of his hands, felt Sergey’s hair slip through his fingers. He shared his breath with Sergey, arched into him, groaned into his mouth, his throat. Tasted his skin. Felt the center of their heat join together, their cocks grind and grind and press again, like they were forging something brand new in the universe.
He saw the stars through Sergey’s soul. They grew brighter, and even though he could still feel Sergey in his arms, his lover’s soul faded from sight.
They arched together, Sasha’s hands racing over Sergey’s fading back, traveling down the knobs of his spine, up the arches of his ribs. He cradled Sergey’s fading cheek, kissed him, gripped his ass. “Sergey, I love you. I love you. I—”
Arching upward, he screamed, grabbed Sergey’s face and held him close, ground his cock into Sergey’s—
But Sergey was gone. He’d turned to starlight, and Sasha was orgasming into the night, his hips bucking wildly, come splattering his chest, his hips. He tried to hold Sergey, but his arms closed over empty air.
Take me home with you.
