Immortals After Dark 09 - Pleasure of a Dark Prince

flowing over her sides. A fountain of sticky warmth coated the altar beneath her, surrounding her battered body, but it quickly cooled on the chill stone.
    Each drop lost left her shuddering harder, even more desperate. The pain of her injuries maddened her.
    “You made your decision, Valkyrie,” the goddess said in answer. “And reaped what you sowed when you disobeyed those you were born to obey. Why should I help you?”
    Because I’ve only lived sixteen years
, Lucia thought, but she knew that wouldn’t sway Skathi, a timeless being who could scarcely comprehend death—or youth.
    “Because I’ll do… whatever you ask of me,” Lucia said at last. The shuddering was getting worse; the altar beneath her was so cold. “P-pay any price.”
    “If I saved you, I would impart my essence to you. A being like you would bear my mark of favor and be tied to the bow forever,” Skathi said, strolling to an opening overlooking her mountain, guarded by miles of deadly woods that swallowed unwary travelers. Lucia barelyremembered traversing the mystical forest as Regin dragged her across portals and dales for days.
    “Lucia, I’m taking you to Skathi!”
    “She will… not help.”
    “She
will!
The Skathians fight him every five hundred years….”
    Thunder boomed once more, the sound seeming to soothe the goddess. “Where my followers have sacrificed to become expert markswomen, you would simply be gifted with my hunting skills. An unequaled archer, better than them all. Why do you think you’re worthy of that? When they have trained so hard? When they are pure of heart—and body?”
    The Skathians lived by an ascetic code—and despised men.
I understand why now.
    “They are not tainted as you are,” Skathi continued. “As you
willingly
offered yourself up to be.”
    Dim memories arose of her last nine days as prisoner of Crom Cruach—the Broken Bloody One, a monster with the face of an angel. Had that animal bitten her? She refused to look down at her body, but she suspected he’d
gnawed
at her skin once she’d blacked out. And that she’d fought him before she’d mindlessly jumped from his lair—chunks of scaly flesh were still embedded beneath her claws.
    Lucia ruthlessly stamped out those visions of her captivity. She would never let herself remember them, especially not that last night.
    What happened in the dark. Blood streaming down my thighs.
    “I didn’t know…. I never knew.” Regretwashed over her. “I’ll s-sacrifice anything, Skathi.”
    “Gifts from gods always come with a price. Are you ready to pay mine?”
    Lucia nodded weakly. “I can become… p-pure hearted. And I’ll shun men.”
She must know I’ll never be fooled again.
    “Virgin from this day forward?” After a long moment, Skathi said, “You escaped the Broken Bloody One this time—courage, or cowardice, making you leap— yet Cruach will come for you in the next Accession if he escapes his jail.”
    Yes, but by that time I’ll be truly immortal. I’ll run farther, faster.
    “He shall merely do this again. Unless… you fight him.”
    “I want to fight him.” She never wanted to see his hideous visage again.
    “Every five hundred years, he would become your bane and you his jailer.”
    “Let me live to face him.”
Lying to a goddess?
But Lucia was desperate.
    Skathi’s face took on a thoughtful mien. “Yes, I have decided to heal you and make you an Archer—so long as you remain chaste. Yet any time that you miss a target, you shall experience the pain you are about to suffer. You shall always remember what brought you this low and never repeat this fall from grace.
That
will make you a Skathian.”
    Dizziness overwhelmed Lucia. She was so confused. “
About
to suffer?” This torment could not be
worse
?
    “Yes, pain to hone your mind. Agony to sharpenyour resolve like a blade stone.” As she placed her milk-white hands over Lucia’s torso, Skathi murmured, “Ah, young Lucia, in the end, I believe you shall wish I’d let you perish.” The goddess’s palms began to glow with blue light.
    Brighter, brighter…
    Suddenly Lucia convulsed, shrieking as her infected wounds pulled taut, purging blood and pus, her fractured bones grinding as they knit together. Her fingers clenched tight, her back arching—like a bow.
    “You’ll be my weapon,” Skathi cried, her face becoming a frenzied mask. “You’ll be my instrument!”
    On and on, the light burned, until abruptly there was none. Lucia was