Facets of Feyrie Box Set, page 9
part #1 of Facets of Feyrie Series
I rather like that look.
“I think we shall have ourselves a little experiment,” Arick remarks offhandedly, coming to stand beside Darvena.
I look up at Phobe, who’s standing deathly still, that little peek of emotion gone. It’s a lost cause if they think to use me to get to him. He’s helped me a time or two—technically—but that doesn’t mean he gives two shits about me. For all I know he’s saving me as a snack.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, my love?” Arick asks, poking my boob with his boot. Not reacting is hard, but I manage it. Instead, I look back and forth between the two megalomaniacs. It would be nice to have Phobe’s super mind powers, because then at the absolute least, I would know which specific part of me they’re going to make bleed.
The situation isn’t helped at all by the alley cat smile on Darvena’s face, that evil one they get right before they eat your pet parakeet—in front of you.
Uh-oh.
Yeah, kitty cat, I know you’re the bigger psycho between the two, but I’m still not afraid of you.
“Pick her up, Beast,” Arick says, turning and walking out of my view. Phobe keeps his gaze from mine as he bends to pick me up. His body language gives nothing away as he holds me loosely against his chest.
He knows I can tell he does—call it gut instinct, but he’s not sharing, and that’s shitty of him. I gotta know something, so I say, ‘You know what he’s planning.’ It isn’t a question; it’s an accusation. After several seconds of silence pass, I realize that I didn’t truly expect an answer—he’s never given them before, I merely hope for one. It doesn’t happen, but at least the disappointment is minimal.
“Bring her to the wall,” Arick orders.
Watching Phobe’s face as we cross the room, as pretty as it is, is like watching paint dry. There’s nothing there. Meanie me keeps hoping he’ll trip since he isn’t looking down, and maybe yell out a curse word like most people do. Of course, he doesn’t. Him having a throbbing toe and hopping around a little might have made me feel better, all things considering. Still silent, he shackles me to the wall and steps back.
“Let us see if this one can melt that ice,” Arick says, waving his hand towards me. Melt that ice? What the hell does that mean?
“Yes, my love. We shall see her fail like all the others before her.” This from Darvena, with a smidgen of jealousy trickling into her words. Apparently, she’s one of the others too.
Honestly, I’m not exactly sure what's going on, but I'm starting to get a vague idea. And for the first time, nervousness twists up my spine. Phobe shackles me to the wall—which is going to be bad for me—instead of leaving me slumped over in the corner, forgotten like a piece of dirty laundry. Forgotten is a good thing in that type of situation. This isn’t that type of situation.
Well, shit.
“Beat her, unconscious,” Arick orders, removing Phobe’s shackles and then hands him a flail. That's a first, giving their slave a weapon. Smiling, he says, “With this."
My eyes fasten onto Phobe’s face. I know exactly what that means. My heart starts pounding in my chest. I exhale through my nose, trying to calm it. It sort of works but not enough to prepare me for what’s coming next.
Face stoic as always; he positions himself directly in front of me. Grabbing me roughly, he pulls my body flush against him. The heat of his body instantly warms my naked skin but only increases my growing apprehension.
Without hesitation, his fingers move down my arm, leaving welts as his claws push into my skin. Unprepared for this type of ‘punishment’ I just stand there with my mouth hanging open like an idiot, shocked at his unexpected behavior. Digging deeper, his touch trails down my back, and a shiver wracks me. Hot eyes meet mine, brightening even more—holding something much different from I ever expected to see in them. I’m don’t know exactly what it is and I’m not sure I want to.
I don’t think I’m going to get a choice.
He hesitates a fraction of a second as if deciding something. When he begins moving his hand again, I realize the decision is made. Resting both hands on my ass, he kneads it and pulls me tighter against him.
Oh. Oh. Oh, my Gods, Phobe, is touching my ass. My bare ass. Caressing it like one would a lover.
What he’s doing is something I have only experienced once before, with him. The feeling of it, the intensity of it—pulls the woman in me past the bullshit baggage I carry inside to come roaring out in a haze of… something that’s making me forget everything but him and the way his skin feels against mine. There are a million different reasons that I shouldn’t feel this way, but my body has a mind of its own and… it likes it—circumstances be damned.
The molten heat of his eyes meets mine again as his breath teases my suddenly sensitive lips. It’s agonizing how he hovers that sinful mouth over mine. Fire flashes in his eyes.
Fucking mind reader.
At last, he ends the torture of me aching for this phenomenal thing that I can’t name. Those perfect lips touch mine, sending a jolt of electricity straight up my spine. Instinctively, my mouth opens to him—wanting to taste this dark creature, perhaps for the only time in my life. With a low growl, he seals our mouths together, and that same shock now jumps from his tongue to mine.
I’m so fucking lost.
Never in my life have I enjoyed anyone touching me. I hate being touched—just the thought of it makes me want to vomit… until him. Touching him, tasting him makes me want more. It makes me want things I don’t even know the words or the meaning of—I know that... I want it all.
Panic claws its way through the thick, dreamy desire that’s wrapping it’s blinding fog around me, and I try to jerk away, but his sharp teeth on my bottom lip hold me prisoner. The second I stop moving, he sucks on, easing the sharp sting into a dull throb that vanishes the minute his tongue finds mine again. This time he steals my very thoughts.
As suddenly as it began, it ends. Sharp claws tear deep into the skin of my arm as he grabs me in an iron grasp. Anger shoots through me even faster than the desire moments before. Asshole. My eyes open and seeing what’s coming—instantly I shut them again.
The first blow hits me like a truck. It tears through the skin on my shoulder like paper, jarring my entire body with the impact. Another blow shoves me against the wall. And another plasters me even harder against it.
Stars swim in my vision as the flail connects with the side of my head with a loud crunch. Sliding sideways—at least, I think it’s sideways—I shake my head in an attempt to clear it. Phobe releases me and my shoulders pull painfully in their sockets. I’m dangling from the shackles, my body a dead weight. My eyes open despite my wish to keep them closed.
Something warm dribbles down my forehead and the side of my face, painting my vision red as it fills the socket of my left eye. Which strangely enough, actually benefits me. I don't want to see him swinging the damn thing at me again. It’s not like I blame him; this isn’t his fault. But who wants to watch a flail bash their face in?
'Stop being so fucking stubborn, Iza.' I meet his gaze and try to blink some of the blood out of my eyes so I can see… all three of him.
'Fuck off; it's a flaw that I’m rather proud of.' I think back at him the instant my head stops spinning enough to hodgepodge a smart ass reply together.
A flash of inspiration fills me, and I let my head drop, forcing the rest of my body to go limp. Let's see if this will fool the order Phobe was given; Arick did say unconscious.
“You’re done, Beast. I’ll deal with her,” Arick says coming to stand beside me. I don’t open my eyes yet, but I can feel the nasty coming off him in spades. It’s like standing next to a toilet, I might not see it, but I can smell it.
He lifts my head and smacks my face until I relent and open my eyes. Once they do, he grabs my arm in a bruising grip. Pulling my body as far as the chains will stretch, he turns me to face the bed. I grit my teeth when I see Phobe is being pulled down between Darvena’s legs. Darvena, who has stripped to nothing but a sheer, purple gown. For the first time, I struggle against Arick’s hold. I don't want to watch this.
“If you don’t stop moving I will give you to the guards,” Arick snarls in my ear, his breath heavy and smelling of something foully sweet.
I let my aching face go slack, adopting a bored expression. My body numbs, and I try to hold onto the fragile goodness of what I experienced with Phobe. If Arick gives me to the guards, it will bring all the nightmares back. And I’m not sure this one good memory will survive. A memory, I find, I truly want to survive.
The ones of him having to hit me with the flail, not so much.
“Satisfy her, Beast,” Arick instructs Phobe. His voice is thick with his disgusting arousal. I can feel the truth of it against my hip, smell it coming off him like overripe fruit.
Instead, I focus on fighting to keep my turbulent emotions under control. It takes more effort than usual, and I have to look away from the sight of the woman eagerly fondling Phobe's limp penis. She’s a parasite sucking away the fire that burned moments before between Phobe and me. Filling that memory with the taint of the horrible thing she’s about to force him to do. Rape is rape; it doesn’t matter whether it’s against a male or a female, the act is foul and traumatic, and no one should ever have to endure it.
Pulling inside of myself even further, I wrap those good emotions he made me feel, the desire the heat—in a cocoon that I can cherish for the rest of my short life. Perhaps I have no right to feel them, but I refuse to have them taken from me.
I picture the way his eyes lit when he kissed me. I relive the heat of his mouth on mine, the taste of night on his tongue. These are mine to keep and hold close to my heart in a secret place no one can touch.
Just like his heartbeats in my ear.
“Enjoying the show? Maybe I should let the guards have you since you’re too ugly for me to fuck,” Arick says, tugging hard on my hair.
The brutality of that statement reminds me of the true position that I’m in. Reminds me of things that even the beatings did not. I’ve spent most of my life at the whim of another’s desires. A toy to be abused and eventually discarded. A no one. And now these fuckers saw one of the few memorable experiences in my life.
‘They saw nothing,’ Phobe says softly in my mind. I jerk in surprise, but Arick doesn’t notice—he’s too busy gawking at the awfulness in front of him. Strangely reassured, I believe him. Gritting my teeth, I raise my chin and my resolve. I’m not even going to hold it against him for snooping in my brain.
‘I’m sorry this is happening to you,’ I say, once again my mouth getting ahead of my brain. What a lame thing to say to him in this situation.
‘I don’t feel it,’ he replies, and I choose to remain silent. Maybe he can’t feel it, but I can feel it for him, and it makes me want to burn this entire fucking place to the ground with everyone in it.
“If you do not please her, I will give this one to the guards,” Arick threatens, tugging again on my hair as his frustration with Phobe becomes apparent.
The threat has no effect whatsoever. Phobe continues as if he didn’t hear anything. The glowing stone appears beside my face. “I order you to feel pleasure with her!” Arick yells. This time the response is immediate.
Phobe wraps his hand into Darvena’s white hair and yanks her head to the side. His mouth opens, exposing too many sharp teeth to count that lengthen in seconds. Phobe's going to bite her. Even though he doesn’t have to use his teeth to feed he’s going to and it’s because of what Arick ordered him to do. Causing her pain gives him pleasure.
Great job finding the loophole, Phobe.
A smile almost slips free, but my head hurts too much. The room is spinning around me off and on, and my area of vision is getting smaller by the minute. I fight it because I want to see him chomp on Darvena, to see her die by his hand. I want to see her blood paint the room in a wash of red justice. That would give us both pleasure.
When his teeth are inches from his skin, Arick shouts, “That’s enough!” Maybe he’s finally realized how much danger his consort is actually in. Phobe moves away from Darvena in a blink. Leaving her collapsed in an undignified heap on the bed, her eyes wide in shock.
Briefly, I let my eyes drift shut and bury the humiliation, the hate, the need to hurt them—in the place that I keep all those emotions. One day I’ll open that door and let the wrath free to wreak havoc, but not today.
“Come Darvena, arouse me.” As Arick speaks, I open my eyes to look at Darvena. She doesn’t look happy at all, but that emotion only lingers on her face for a second before it’s hidden behind an alluring smile.
Phobe is already moving towards me; he stops and unshackles me without saying a word.
‘What was that shit?’ The frustration in my words is as much at myself for asking.
‘A distraction.’ That’s not a surprising answer, sarcasm.
“Give her five more strikes with the flail for being a disappointment to the Magistrate.” Phobe’s eyes harden at Darvena’s words. “Then remove yourselves from our presence.” I’m not stupid. Darvena is pissed off Phobe didn’t poke her nasty whore-hole.
Although, she did try hard to get him... hard. I think I snicker at my joke, but I’m not entirely sure. Everything is echoing in my head.
When I’m able to see relatively straight again, Phobe has already grabbed the cursed thing to knock me around some more. He’s standing next to the door we entered, flail in hand and points at the wall beside him. Walking slowly towards him, I fight the tilting room. Falling wouldn’t be wise right now; I’m not sure I’ll be able to get up. Grabbing the wall to keep from doing just that, I take a few deep breaths as I fight to keep my stomach from reminding me there’s no food in it but plenty of acids.
“Begin, or I’ll add five,” Darvena’s biting voice makes me cringe. If I ever get the chance, I’m going to strangle her with her stupid negligee. For now, I get the satisfaction of knowing that her ‘karma’ is currently slobbering all over her.
Phobe takes the two steps between us and looks down at me. Without a word, he pushes me against the wall. Biting my lip till it bleeds, I take the first hit silently. By the time he gets to four, I’m on the floor, sobbing around the fist I’ve shoved against my mouth—uncaring that I’m crying like a baby in front of him.
I’m fully aware that Phobe isn’t hitting me nearly as hard as he can. Merely hard enough to appear like it’s much more. The problem is, you don't have to hit hard with a flail for it to hurt. It’s a flail, not a piece of string. That shit is painful.
If he hit me any lighter, they’d realize something is up, and they can never know he’s taking it easy on me. That would land us asshole deep in super-fucked-ville.
This time the unconsciousness yanking me down into its depths is real. When I come to, I’m being carried over his shoulder again. Unable to hold it in anymore, I puke all over the back of his legs, soaking his brown pants. The smell is awful, but I don’t have it in me to feel sorry. He did just beat the hell out of me with a weapon from 200 years ago.
The jerking movements of him sitting me on the floor makes me puke again. There’s nothing to be done about it, and it’s mostly painful dry heaves at this point. I put my face on the cold stone floor to try and get the room to stop spinning.
Blackness starts eroding my vision and unable to keep fighting it, I let it take me into oblivion.
Chapter Ten
Deep even breathing and the silence of her active thoughts tells me she is asleep. Possibly unconscious. Quickly, I clean her—and my pants, up. Standing there, staring down at her, I kneel and then before I realize what I am doing, I lay down beside her. The wounds on her head and face have already stopped bleeding. As I watch they slowly start knitting together. In a few days, they will be mostly closed and well on their way to healing. Still, I catch myself admiring her once again. After a long moment of holding my hand over her head, I give in and with my fingertips, stroke her tangled hair. I tell myself it is to check her wound, but I no longer believe that.
I can still taste her on my tongue. An unforgettably rich flavor that leaves me with the craving for more. Needing to taste more. It is not something I am accustomed to, nor something I am dealing with well. Giving in, for the few minutes that I did… will make it harder to resist.
Kissing her, touching her felt so good. I forgot everything but her. Forgot everything but the feel of her skin, the warmth of her mouth—the feeling of her tongue against mine. For the first time in ages, I tasted freedom—freeing me enough that I was tempted to lose control completely. My control was pushed to the limit, and I almost did. With the glamour hiding what was transpiring between us from view, it was a hard inner battle to fight.
That primal side of me—that she rarely sees—gave neither of us a choice about me going as far as I did, and almost pushed me further. Those moments between us were completely real. When she thinks about it in depth, she will see. I cannot glamour her in the way I can others. She sees me for what I am. The only time I am barred from her gaze is with my shadows. There has never been another mortal that saw my true physical form except her.
What happened between us is not what Arick ordered, or what he and Darvena saw. That was all me. That is what I wanted to do. When his order forced me to stop—to take the passion burning between us and turn it into pain, I almost begged.
I have never begged in my entire existence.
I know with a conviction I cannot explain, with an unbreakable surety, what and who she is now. As I kissed her, my mind slipped fully into hers. She is mostly ignorant of it, of course. There is an inkling of an idea, a seed planted in her mind but no actual belief. It is as if she does not know for sure or want to know.
But I know.
Some previously unknown part of me has been drawn to her since the first time I saw her young, bloody face in the dark. It does not mean I like it, doesn’t mean I want it. But that does not stop it from existing. This creature represents something so foreign to me that until now, I have never contemplated the idea of anyone being part of my life. This pulls on softer parts of me that I did not have until she came here.
