In Flames, Destined Series Volume 1

by Elissa Daye

  “You almost gave yourself away last night when you cast your little spell.”

  “I will be more careful, Lelah.”

  “Not to mention all the men who followed you around. There’s nothing more to do about it, I fear. Newyn has decided to provide a different sort of entertainment this evening, for your beauty could be a great advantage to him. Had you blended in as I had suggested, then you would not be at the center of it. Unfortunately, my hands are tied.”

  Lysandra could see that Lelah tried to sound contrite, but inside her mind she felt the wicked smile that Lelah was aching to show. Tonight was to be her punishment for drawing attention away from her. She did not need confirmation to know it was so. She could only hope she weathered her torture. She did not think that Newyn allowed harm to come to his captives, but there was much that Lysandra did not know about her captor, much that was hidden from the large room of women.

  No matter, she was a strong woman of Lena. Lysandra was already used to betrayal; it was certainly no stranger to her. Lelah wanted her to show fear, to beg her like a simpering coward, and Lysandra refused to give her the show she desired. She walked away from her with her head held high as she tried to gather whatever courage she had left. She would be prepared for anything Lelah threw her way.

  When it was time to dress for the evening Lysandra went to put on the white costume from the evening before, but was surprised to find it nowhere in sight. When Lelah entered the room she gestured for the woman following her to go to where Lysandra was standing.

  “Get her ready.”

  The woman came closer to her and stood before her. “Disrobe.”

  Her courage faltered. She had undressed in front of the ladies here, but for some reason this felt different. She stood there longer than she should have and jumped when the woman grabbed her top and ripped it open so hastily that the fabric almost burned her skin. When Lysandra met her eyes, she could see an apology there. It was clear that she lived in fear of Lelah much like the other ladies. Lysandra nodded at her and then promptly took the rest of her clothes off. She did not need to make this poor woman’s life any more miserable than Lelah already had.

  The woman quietly pulled something out from her robes while Lelah was looking away and handed it to her. “Quick. Drink this. It will make your night easier.” Then she rotated Lysandra so that her back was facing Lelah.

  Lysandra did as she was told and immediately downed the small vial in her hand while the woman behind her started to put a robe over her shoulders. It was a black silk robe and it tied in three different places in the front so that her whole body was covered from sight. She took out a strip of black silk, placed it over her eyes, and tied it tightly behind her head. Lysandra had never been blindfolded before and was not comfortable with the darkness that suddenly surrounded her. She wanted to be prepared for whatever Lelah threw at her, but it was difficult to do if she could not see it coming. There was nothing she could do but remain stuck within Lelah’s icy web. She could only hope that her soul remained intact when the night was through.

  “Take her to the great hall.”

  As they walked Lysandra started to get a funny feeling running through her, one that was foreign to her young, untempered body. It might have been better had she not been blindfolded for she started to feel extremely disoriented, as if her head were floating above her body. If she were able to see she might have been able to judge the limits of the unusual impairments that had snuck up on her body. The gentle hand that guided her forward had not changed its grip, yet the hand stung her flesh and a small, tingling fire raced up her arm. Was that pleasure or pain? When she entered what she could only assume was the great hall, she could hear the rumbling of voices around her.

  “There she is, my friends. Our virgin sacrifice.” His voice sounded gravelly, almost like he had a rocks stuck in the back of his throat. It was not an endearing sound and the way he projected it around the room was eerie.

  What? Lysandra felt a small shard of fear pierce the cloudiness and she struggled to jerk her arm free only to find that her mind had no control over any of her parts. She was to be sacrificed like a virgin to an erupting volcano. She bumped her knee painfully onto the sharp edge of a table that was lower to the floor. She was spun around one last time and her black robe was removed. She could hear the air sucked out of the room as the crowd took in her naked form. She did not understand the fascination with her nudity. She was truly no different than any of the other women at Ghelli House. The only thing that separated her from the others was her innocence, the forbidden depths of her that had been untouched by any man.

  Lysandra felt the arms helping her onto the table and, for once, was actually glad to be lying down. She felt her head swimming, and knew she would have fallen if she had been forced to stand much longer. Soft cloth was wrapped around her ankles and wrists as she was tethered to the table harmlessly. She jerked against the restraints, but found resistance with even the slightest movements.

  “We shall see what desire is hidden deep within this innocent. I’ve paid too much for her purity to let it go so easily, but we shall have fun nonetheless. Enjoy the show.”

  A drum beat started in the background, a slow beat set against a silent backdrop. The small crack of hand cymbals created the illusion that some kind of performance was happening around her. She could almost feel the curve of the candle’s flames echoing dangerously around the room as the wickedly taunting music haunted the air.

  When the first hand touched her body she wanted nothing more than to move away from it, but her body craved the warmth it offered her amidst the cold air of the room. The hands were followed by a hot mouth that carved paths up and down her body in small, slivering trails that, had she been in her right mind, would have made her sick to her stomach. Instead, her skin burned, it ached in ways she could not even begin to understand. Her first instinct had been to twist away from the torment, but the ties that held her down froze her in place while she did her best not to move against the hands that covered her.

  As those hands moved away from her body, another pair soon followed, and then another. After several pairs had passed over her body a pair of larger hands, callused from age, and adept in their tutelage of her body, made the fire rise deep within her. Her hips rose to meet fingers that sought entry to her thighs. When he rubbed between her legs she sucked in her breath and felt intrigued by the heat that pooled deep inside her. She felt so hot, as if she were being tossed inside an inferno and left to burn in misery, but was this misery? She barely had time to reflect as the hands moved away from her. She could not help but feel cheated, but from what she had no idea.

  Somewhere in the distance she could hear Newyn’s dark voice calling for the next willing patron to pay for his right to get a glimpse of paradise. When another set of hands touched her body Lysandra felt something entirely different. She felt calm, almost safe, in her surroundings. These feelings were completely foreign in this setting, for nothing at Ghelli House had felt safe. When his mouth reached hers she was confused. None of the others had even bothered to bring their lips to hers and, as his mouth touched hers, she felt a bizarre connection she had not expected. There was a peaceful feeling in the midst of all the brutality around her. The lips moved down her neck, down through the valley of her breasts, down to her belly. The fiery intensity of his touch knocked every inch of breath from her lungs.

  She felt his hands reach down to her nether region and the path of flames fanned like a wild fire through a forest. She felt something building within her and she had no ability to fight it. She clenched her stomach and felt her legs tremble on the table as her body bucked beneath her. The dizzy feeling that had taken over her head now raced through her body and the tingling sensations were so delicious and painful at the same time. She could not describe the energy that coursed through her, but it was not something to be feared. It was something that would take her a lifetime to forget.

  As she drifted into a haze, her mi
nd sought something to hold onto in the darkness, but all she could see in the back of her mind was dark sky filled with a moon hanging low as a lone wolf howled in the background. She heard a loud roar of approval from the room and, had Lysandra been more aware of the time and place, she would have been deathly afraid.

  Lelah’s eyes were overflowing with angry tears, for the men in the room had cast their attention to one woman, and one woman only. They had not even attempted to take their fill from the other ladies who were swaying seductively around them. She would have to put an end to this. She walked over to Newyn and whispered into his ear. A big grin lit up his face, as if Christmastide had come early this year.

  “Lads, do you like our virgin goddess?” He was answered with another loud rumbling in the room. “Good, good. For tomorrow night, we shall have a live auction for all three of our lovely virgins. As you see, the virgins at Ghelli House are ripe for the plucking. Tell all your friends.”

  Chapter 9

  Lysandra sat on her sleeping mat and tried to clear her head. She had no idea what had happened last night as the drink that the woman had given her had made it hard to focus even in the aftermath. She had slept much longer than she would have liked, but she had no control over that. When she saw the dark-haired woman enter from the other side of the room she knew that Lelah was on the warpath again. For some reason, Lysandra knew it would be in her best interest to follow after her. She walked behind her, not at all surprised when Lelah did not turn around to face her.

  “Newyn wants you anointed and dressed properly for this evening.” Lelah opened the door and pulled her inside before she could ask any more awkward questions.

  The room was not large. There was very little furniture; a chair here, a bench there, a long table in the middle. Next to the fire at the back of the room a wooden tub was being filled. Hot steam wafted above the surface as one of the women poured more into it. There were three other women standing in the room and they all eyed her as if she were to be served up as a sweetmeat this evening. From the way they were dressed it was clear that these women were no longer maidens. Breasts peaked out from velvet sashes that were tied around their bodies, allowing for just a hint of the forbidden. It was enough to tickle any man’s senses, to attract him like a moth to the flame. The heat rising from the depths of each of their eyes was stronger than a wailing siren’s song. Their confidence was like the kiss of death, where death became an act of rebirth under the heat of a starless night. Lysandra wondered how such wantonness could be displayed without care.

  Lysandra took a deep breath and walked closer to the three scantily-clad women next to a fireplace. She knew they were staring her down to see how she would react to their perusal, but Lysandra refused to look away. When hands ripped at the clothing around her shoulders she held her reflexes in check. She would not flinch under their touch. While life may have tainted their situations, these were still women bent on surviving a world that had cruelly thrown them into a pit that feasted on their innocence from the moment they were cast into it.

  Lysandra let the rest of the clothes fall from her body and stepped over the side of the tub. The water was so hot it stung her skin the moment she stepped into it. While her first instinct was to jump right back out she forced herself to stand there under the piercing scrutiny of the ladies before her. They had known the water was too warm for her to enter; they had actually planned it that way. For some reason, her pain was their pleasure and Lysandra simply could not put her finger on the pulse of their discord with her. Did they treat every novice the same way?

  Lysandra looked askance of Lelah and was surprised to see her warning sneer that she cast at the ladies by the fire. They cowered under her glare and went about their task at hand. A few buckets of cold water were poured into the hot to make the temperature less marring on her skin. Hands were suddenly everywhere around her, scrubbing every inch meticulously. They carved entry ways to places best left untouched, as if they were cleaning away the innocence she had so desperately clung to. It was a battle that was on its way to speedy closure, for she sensed there was something almost ritualistic about this night.

  When Lysandra was as clean as the groping hands could get her, arms gestured for her to exit the tepid water. Soft, soapy hands were exchanged for coarse drying cloths and she was dried faster than she had ever been before, slightly chafing from the roughness the women exuded.

  Lelah exhaled loudly and shook her head adamantly at the women. “Do not bruise the goods. Newyn has great plans to show this one off tonight. Prepare the oils.”

  The oil in question was being extracted from a small metal crock near the edge of the fire’s ashes. It had been warming while the scouring bath had occurred. One of the women placed a white sheet on the table and gestured for Lysandra to move toward it. “Lay down,” the woman ordered her in a fashion that brokered no response.

  Lysandra lay down on her stomach, trepidation rising through her. One set of hands started to move up and down her body in a slow, sensual rhythm. She had never had oil massaged into her body before and, while she expected to feel even more invaded than before, her body took on a languid feel as the oil-covered hands glided over her. It was the first time today that she felt like she could actually breathe calmly as she took in the air around her. The essence of the oils started to fill her nostrils; the scent of lavender and jasmine permeated the air. She let the heady aroma fill her. She was so relaxed that she barely noticed the invasiveness of the hands as they intruded into places that had never been explored.

  Hands ran down the curve of her spine. The rise and fall of her chest against the table made it almost hard to breathe as hands pressed firm caresses down her back to the curve of her hips, down to the length of her legs, and everything in between. Something began to stir deep within her. That intrusive moment should have been free from prying eyes, but Lysandra was stuck in that moment in time, wishing she could hide deep inside.

  It did not get better when she was turned over. She closed her eyes and used every inch of her energy to block out the strange tingling feelings her body was experiencing, but the oils that were applied to her were causing a strange reaction to her skin. Warm tingling sensations moved from her head to her toes, some sort of mysterious trail she had never walked. It simply did not make sense to her. When a small glass of wine was brought to her she was so under the spell of the moment that she drank it as directed.

  When she stood up, red velvet material was wrapped around her neck and crossed over her chest, snugly hugging her breasts close to her body. She moved her legs into a small red skirt, which fit her hips so tightly she thought moving would be impossible. The crimson fabric looked like blood staining her pale skin and she was quite unsure how she felt about it as it fell around her thighs and traveled no further. It was scandalously short.

  Her hair was brushed forcefully, but Lysandra refused to jerk her head away from the fierce bristles that raked across her skull. Her hair was gathered back tightly and then twisted into a coronet at the top of her head. Small curls cascaded softly from the top of her head while others strayed to the side of her face. When Lysandra saw herself in the mirror for the first time she was shocked. She looked just like one of the ladies that had writhed passionately on the bed just hours before. Fear entered her heart for the first time that night, but the warming sensations from the wine ran strangely through her body. Fear turned to calm, a calm so still she knew that whatever happened this night, she was resigned to the challenge of her future. She was then covered in a white velvet robe that was tied shut at her neck, leaving no trace of the red garments underneath.

  The women ushered her out of the room and she followed them quietly. She knew there was nothing she could do. Lysandra had not control over any evil plot Lelah had concocted and the women standing around her shared no remorse for what they knew was about to occur. Lysandra did the only thing she could do—breathe as they brought her to the great hall.

  Chapter 10


  “Come. You join the other virgins in the pit.” Lelah gestured to the round ring in the middle of the room.

  Lysandra walked quietly to the pit as commanded, then stood next to the other two virgins who were clothed much like herself. They each had an awed look on their face that was tinted with a bit of confusion. It was as if they were intrigued with what they saw around them while still feeling that a part of each of them should be afraid for what was about to happen next.

  Newyn stood up from a table near the pit with an almost sadistic sneer on his face. His short black hair ran over his head like spikes and his face was covered in mottled marks. His eyes were so dark that Lysandra thought they looked black from where she stood. He was tall and menacing, even as he gestured toward the women in the middle. “Welcome to the best treat you have ever seen at the Ghelli House, our first virgin auction. Remember, paradise lies beneath these virgin sheets.” He opened Lysandra’s robe and, when he looked at her, she returned the heat of his gaze. She would not back down from him, never surrender the spark within that made her so unique to the world.

  The bidding began so hastily that Lysandra could not keep up. Before she knew it, her robe was being yanked completely off of her and hands were roaming all over her body. She yearned to move away from the intrusiveness, but her head was swimming with grogginess and her limbs no longer obeyed her commands. Her vision became blurred and all she could do was feel the flames rising around her where callused hands ran across her tender skin, skin that was barely protected by the red material that had been placed on her earlier.