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Visit www.midnight-pearl.com for more m/m erotica stories by Adrianna Dane
The Exile: A Seductive Tale
Amber Allure, the GLBT imprint of Amber Quill Press
Excerpt from The Exile: A Seductive Tale: ...His gaze followed the youth around the dining room, full of the energy of his age—probably no more than twenty. A mere boy in comparison to Linus's centuries of existence. He remembered that time of innocence vaguely. Twenty was the average age of acceptance for transfer from the mainland to Mannos. He had been so full of enthusiastic naïveté and with hopeful stars in his eyes, eager to be accepted in a place where manhood was revered. At that time to even be considered gay in any respect on the mainland could have ended in his death. The Brotherhood of the Midnight Pearl had been a deeply underground fellowship only whispered of in his time. It was still a very select society, but membership no longer involved the dangers of imprisonment or execution. It had been a shock to him when he arrived back on the mainland after centuries sequestered on the isle to discover a changed world. It had taken quite a bit of time to become reacquainted with the customs and protocols of the current civilized community. Unlike on Mannos, where his authority was obvious, and safety among the brotherhood was assured for the most part, he had to take great care here—there was no assumed respect by initiates and newbloods as there was on the isle. On Mannos a barter system was employed, where on the mainland currency was the mainstay of exchange. On the isle it was obvious who held the authority and who served. It was another world—a paradise out of time. Yet still protected in its fullest measure. He'd chosen to return to the mainland, renouncing his position as Artmaster. He'd thought long and hard about his decision, but something not quite defined in his mind drew him back here. He needed answers, but wasn't quite sure what he would do with them if he found them. How would knowing the reasons change his life? Yet, he must know. Why had Alonzo been so fearful of accepting his service to the Ancient one? To have been so honored as to have been chosen by Phyneas, one of the original founders of the isle, and thrown it all away, still amazed Linus. The betrayal was something none of them understood. It was Alonzo's exile that had shaken the core of the hierarchy of Mannos. The Isle of Men, a paradise, thought by many to be only a myth. But Linus knew better. He had been there. Lived the life. Dedicated his existence and found pleasure and acceptance beyond his wildest dreams among brethren who believe in the same tenants he did. Alonzo, a young initiate, had been meant for paradise, yet he was now an exiled brother, serving somewhere on the mainland, hopeful that Phyneas, the Ancient he had betrayed, would one day forgive him and allow him to return. Linus had turned his back on that secular world when he rejoined civilization years ago. At first he had made inquiries, attempting to locate the young rebel. All to no avail. Phyneas, and a few who served him, were the only ones who knew his location and no one was talking. It was as though he had disappeared into thin air. He had not thought about Alonzo for a long time. Something about the young man he now watched had opened a door allowing the memories to resurface. Alonzo was the dream, the fantasy of what might have been, given other circumstances, but this young man—he was real, and very tempting. Maybe that's why Linus was drawn to the young waiter. He reminded him a bit of that beautiful, dark-haired young receiver of so long ago. A sense of dangerous, dark beauty surrounded him. Gone, but not forgotten. It was forbidden for Alonzo's name to be uttered on the isle, but many whispered of the favored one, now banished. He had been desired by many, including one of the Ancient Island Lords, one of those who had first settled Mannos, and someone who had elevated Alonzo above all others, offering him the coveted role of companion. There was such a pain of loss surrounding the whole incident. Linus had waited, but in the end he'd had to leave. Alonzo's spirit seemed to hover everywhere—in the golden city, at the waterfall, in the artist's colony. Even dripping from the ancient golden towers poised on the cliffs above the city. No one had ever betrayed the brotherhood in the manner Alonzo had. "More coffee, sir?" Linus looked up, surprised to see the young waiter hovering near his table. He studied his respectful expression as he gazed down at Linus, waiting. Mannos and Alonzo were behind him, but this young man— He felt his cock rise in response to the attractive youth, mesmerized by the sensual, full lips, and aquamarine eyes that so reminded him of home. His elegant fingers gripped the coffee carafe and Linus found him imagining those long fingers wrapped around something else—something hot and alive, seething with need. It had been a long time since he'd been so quickly aroused by a potential lover. There were few in the past fifty years he had actually considered inviting home with him, instead choosing quick encounters in dark alleys and bathhouses and then returning home, always alone. But this one. He had visions of making slow, passionate love to him, wanting to savor his body in his bed. See all of him, feel his beautiful lips sucking his prick. "More coffee would be appreciated." His hair resembled shimmering midnight ocean waves, highlighted by the full moon at night. He envisioned a stallion's mane flying in the wind as he galloped across the landscape. Strong muscle, lean body, fluid grace. His hair was long, although contained neatly at the nape of his neck. Most likely a requirement of the establishment, because the look in his eyes told Linus there was an element of wildness that fought at the bridle of control. Linus yearned to touch him, to break him out of the civilized confines of the restaurant. To bring him beneath the bite of a master's control. To possess him. Yet centuries of self-control had taught him the value of patience. On the isle, there really was no need for rushed interludes unless one wished it to heighten a particular experience—one had all the time in the world. And if one had risen to the level of authoritarian, as he had, the choices were many&ldots;and varied. Linus reached out to stay the young waiter from leaving. He looked down at him, a question in his simmering blue eyes. "Something else, sir?" "The earring you wear. Does it have meaning for you?" Linus saw the boy's gaze turn to his own lobe, and understanding and recognition flashed across his expression. He nodded. "Yes, it does. I see you wear a similar one." "Similar, yes," Linus acknowledged. "Priceless, to be sure." "You have been there?" the waiter asked, his hushed tone speaking of a reverence for the possibility.
Read more about the Brotherhood of the Midnight Pearl and enjoy some free short stories at www.midnight-pearl.com
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