by Frost Kay
He must have seen her thinking about it and pounced. “I want you willing. I will not force anything from you. It’s barbaric and disgusting. Any man can force a woman, but seduction? That takes skill. Come to me willingly and life will continue as it has.” He smiled beautifully as he spoke and she hated it. It was so unfair that the rot in his soul wasn’t evident on his face. “It’s just one kiss. Be reasonable.”
It was more than that. It meant her surrender. It would be her choice.
“Sage, he’s telling the truth,” Tehl whispered again. “Protect yourself at all costs. Just imagine me when kissing him.”
She squared off with the warlord. “One kiss.”
Anticipation flashed across his face. “One.”
She expected him to maul her right away, but instead, he paused, his eyes softening as he simply looked at her. He then crooked a finger beneath her chin and raised her face toward his, his thumb tracing the curve of her lower lip.
“Flawless,” he whispered and touched his mouth to hers. He drew his hand down her neck to the hollow of her throat just below where he’d forced the metal collar. His breath caressed her skin and her entire body tensed. This was so wrong. She didn’t know if she could do this.
“Just breathe. It’ll be okay, love,” Tehl murmured.
One muscle at a time, she tried to force her body to relax. His arms wound around her so tightly she could hardly breathe. His hands spanned her back before leisurely exploring her curves, their trailing path leaving her skin crawling. He held her securely against him and tangled one hand in her loose tresses, cupping the back of her head as he first brushed his lips across the bow of her top lip, then her full bottom lip, his touch feather-light. When he began softly nibbling at it, she started shaking. This was too much. I’m sorry, Tehl. Everywhere he touched felt dirty, and guilt pooled in her belly.
He pulled back, his fingertips touching her chin and tracing her jaw, catching the wet trails of tears she didn’t know she’d shed. “It’s all right, love. Open for me.”
More tears burned in her eyes, but she closed them to keep them from falling. This was her choice, no matter how sick and twisted it was. He cupped the side of her face gently, and kissed her like he could consume her. One tear squeezed out when he moaned quietly. She sucked a deep breath when his hand slid down, fingers brushing across the tender skin under her jaw, then trailing over her abused neck.
Stars above, she couldn’t do this. It was too much. She turned her head to the side to break the kiss. His mouth traveled across her jaw and along the side of her neck, following the path of his hand. His fingers caught the edge of her robe and pushed the fabric off her shoulder. The cold air made her shiver, and her eyes slammed open as he nipped at her collarbone.
Tehl stood behind the warlord, staring at her over Zane’s shoulder. He gave her a tender look. Sorrow rose, howling inside her, choking her. All that time she spent fighting Tehl, making him the villain, blaming him, and yet he wasn’t the monster of her story, he was the hero. He’d always been the hero, albeit an awkward one.
Zane lifted his head, his hooded gaze scorching her. “That was as exquisite as I imagined it to be.”
Sage stared at him, knowing he’d taken something from her she’d never get back. His hand slid down into her robe to cup her bare belly.
His fingers caressed the skin, and his smile was all male satisfaction. “Just imagine what you’ll look like when you’re swollen with my child.”
All of her muscles locked down. “Excuse me?”
He graced her with one of his heart-stopping smiles. “You’ll make a wonderful consort, and our children will make the most powerful warriors. Just imagine Aermia and Scythia ruling together.”
“You’re out of your damned mind,” she blurted. “I’m married.”
“No, I promise you, you are not.” His smile was sin and the devil rolled into one. “Wild one, do you remember when I saved you from that hole? Healers were necessary, and so was an examination.”
“What?” she asked through numb lips. He couldn’t mean…
He cupped her cheek, a tender look on his face. “I had to be sure. I couldn’t make you mine if you’d been used. Imagine my excitement when my healers informed me you were pure. Your marriage is void if not consummated. You, my love, will be my queen. And make no mistake, I won’t make the same mistake as the Aermian prince.”
“I will never marry you. I’ll die first.” She meant it.
He chuckled like she was amusing him. “There are a great many things that you, my love, will do for those you love.”
“You’re just like Rhys,” she whispered. “He said something similar to me once.”
The warlord scoffed. “He’s nothing like me, but a cheap imitation. I’m the original.”
“How could I be so blind?” she muttered.
“It’s not your fault. You’re young and naïve still. Time hasn’t jaded you or turned you into a suspicious shrew. It’s a good thing.”
“You disgust me.”
“Disgust can turn to love.”
He was delusional. “You can take many things from me, but my love will not be one of them.”
The warlord studied her. “I have plenty of time, but I think you need a visit from the dead to inspire you to action.”
Dread filled her. “The dead?” she croaked.
“Yes, I think Jasmine needs to visit.”
Sage
She shifted painfully from one aching foot to the other. Stars above, everything hurt. At one point in the night, her legs had collapsed. The metal manacles had bitten into her wrists, and it’d taken everything she had not to break down. She didn’t, though, and she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. After several torturous hours, she’d finally found the strength to stand again.
She tilted her head back against the stone to stare at the dark ceiling, thinking of the previous night. For hours, she’d berated herself and examined each of her conversations with the warlord. After his display last night… Sage shuddered. When she’d looked into his deranged eyes, she’d felt her soul grow cold. She’d been scared in her life before, but something about last night had been worse than anything she’d ever experienced. What kind of monster’s lair had she wandered into? Even now, she didn’t know, and there was a part of her that still hoped Zane would walk in nursing a hangover. She hoped he wasn’t truly evil.
She banged her head against the wall at the last thought. That part of her was foolish but insistent, and she didn’t quite understand it. It was like she wanted him to be… What did she want him to be? Her friend? A good person? In the light of day, Sage could see it for what it was. It was a longing. She longed for safety, for home, for her family, for her friends, and for Tehl, but in lieu of those things, it seemed her mind sought those things in Zane. Something was wrong with her.
The door slammed open and cracked against the stone wall. She swallowed hard when the warlord sauntered in and smiled boyishly. He moved toward her, her customary breakfast in his hands.
“Good morning, wild one. I hope you slept well.”
Inwardly, she quelled. Everything was normal about him—well, the normal she’d come to know up until very recently. Gone was the hard, imbalanced, and calculating man from last night. However, neither did he rush to her side with apologies, nor help her down from the wall. That in and of itself told her something. Was this some sort of game to him? Or was he truly not well in the mind?
He placed her food on the nightstand and then pinched a piece of bread from the loaf, holding it out to her. “Are you hungry, Sage?”
She eyed the proffered food skeptically. “Is it poisoned?”
His deep chuckle washed over her, and she dared to peek at him. What she saw made her gasp. He was smiling at her with love and adoration. What in the world? Was he normal again?
He popped the piece of bread into his mouth, never losing eye contact, and brushed the back of his fingers along her cheek. After he�
��d swallowed, he asked, “Will you eat now?”
“Will you unchain me?” she ventured.
“Not right now. As much as it pains me to have something so wild and exotic chained like a slave, it’s really in your best interest. You’ll have to stay this way for your protection.” He actually had the audacity to look hurt by it, as if he was not in control of the situation.
“In what world is this protection?”
Rather than respond, the warlord pinched off another piece of bread and placed it at her lips. Sage took the morsel from his fingers and chewed slowly, confused by the brilliant smile he gave her. Had the kingdom been turned on its head? Everything felt off-kilter.
He held the broth to his lips and sipped, then offered it to her. She placed her lips on the cup and slurped, watching him over the rim. What was his game?
A hand brushed her collarbone and then her chest. Sage sputtered and jerked back, knocking the broth from his hand. It crashed to the floor and stillness filled the room, as if awaiting violence.
Sage coughed and glared at the warlord through watering eyes. His reaction, though, wasn’t what she’d anticipated. Instead of responding angrily, he let loose a heavy sigh, gathering the broken pieces of clay into his hand.
“One day, Sage, you won’t fear me as you do now. You’ll accept my kindness without question, and my touch without shuddering. This, I vow.”
Not in this life. But she kept her thoughts to herself, staring at the broth that had soaked her robe, rendering the thin fabric translucent. Color heated her cheeks when she realized the fabric was translucent. The warlord stood and stilled as he, too, seemed to notice. Her breath froze in her lungs when he moved closer.
“Goddess,” he whispered. “Lead, and I will follow.” He looked into her face and touched one finger to her blush. “Do not be ashamed of such beauty. It’s a gift many covet, and yours is natural. That’s rare. It’s a treasure.”
“One that is mine,” she whispered.
He leaned closer, his words whispering over her skin. “One that is mine. This time it will be my choice.”
She went rigid at his statement. “You’re mistaken…or just deranged.” She inwardly winced. She needed to tread carefully. If she needled him too much, there could be a repeat of the night before.
He took a step back and studied her, amusement touching his face. “I like this side of you, Sage. The warrior queen I met in my throne room all those weeks ago is starting to peek out again.”
“My lord?” A warrior stepped into the doorway with a bow.
“Yes?” Zane answered, glancing over his shoulder.
“We have what you requested.”
“Ah, yes!” The warlord turned back to her and clapped his hands. “I’ve arranged a gift for you. Bring her in.”
A warrior swung into the room, toting someone Sage had never dreamt she could see again. “Jas?” she whispered, tears springing to her eyes.
Jasmine stared at her and lunged forward. “Sage!”
The male holding her jerked her back. “Do not speak in the warlord’s presence unless asked. And bow to your betters.” He tossed Jasmine to the ground. She landed on her hands and knees. That had to be painful, but her friend didn’t utter a sound of complaint as she knelt before the warlord.
Zane stepped up to Jasmine, and a sound of protest escaped Sage’s lips. He glanced back at her with a raised brow. Some of her distress must have shown on her face, because he gave her a warm, reassuring smile which did nothing to reassure her. It rather did the opposite. He turned back to Jasmine and leaned down, tipping up her chin. Sage ran her eyes over her friend’s face. There weren’t any bruises or cuts, just what seemed to be evidence of lack of sleep.
“Aermia has a way of creating enchanting creatures, despite their imperfections, don’t they, Phoenix?”
The warrior nodded and watched Jasmine with a look that spoke a bit too much possessiveness. “Indeed. If nothing else, their spirits are to be admired.”
“I agree,” Zane murmured, turning Jasmine’s face from one side to the other. “Her blue eyes are off-putting, but her facial structure and build are amenable. She’ll do nicely.”
Nicely for what? Sage stifled her question for fear of his reaction while handling her friend.
“Stand, woman,” the warlord commanded.
Jas stood and kept her gaze pinned to the floor. He spun her around and led her by the hand until she stood an arm’s length away from Sage. Jas’ eyes met hers and tears dripped down her face.
“I’ll give you a minute. Enjoy your gift, wild one.” The warlord let Jas go and moved to speak with the warrior.
Jasmine rushed to her and wrapped her arms around her. “Oh, God. I never thought I’d see you again.”
A sob escaped her. “You died,” she choked out. “I was told you died. I lost you, Jas. I’ve mourned you this whole time!”
Jasmine pulled back and clasped Sage’s face. “But I’m fine. I’m here, you see? I’m here! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“I saw you at the execution.”
Sage’s stomach dropped. “You did?”
“You look different.”
A chill ran down Sage’s spine. “Is it bad?”
The skin around Jasmine’s eyes tightened. “Not bad, but,” she hesitated, “you’re starting to seem… flawless.”
The idea sickened her. “It wasn’t by choice,” she whispered.
“I don’t doubt you. The power to choose is a rare commodity here.”
Sage caught movement over Jasmine’s shoulder as the warlord made his way back toward them. Panic filled her. “I love you, sis.”
“Love you, too, sis,” Jas croaked.
The warlord closed a hand around Jasmine’s arm and pulled her from Sage. “That’s enough.” In a quick move, he drew a dagger from his side and placed it at her friend’s throat. His gaze captured Sage’s. “Do you love her?”
“You know the answer.”
“I fear you will be unruly without something to hold you in check.”
Sage’s gaze wavered to Jas and back to the warlord. “Have I been unruly?”
“No, but I can sense rebellion building within you. I’ve dealt with rebellion before, so I know what it looks like.” He frowned and blinked as if willing a memory away. “I need your compliance in all things.”
“I promise,” she answered quickly.
His smile became bitter. “I know you, and I’ve told you not to lie to me.” He slashed the skin of Jasmine’s shoulder, making her cry out and try to pull away from him.
“No!” Sage jerked forward with a cry, only to have her chains pull her back. “Leave her alone! She’s done nothing wrong.”
“You’re right, Sage, she hasn’t. But you have. Look at the price of your lies.” He pressed his finger into Jasmine’s wound and her friend’s face turned white. His face was a mask of anger when he returned his gaze to her face. “Look what you made me do, Sage! I hate this! Now, answer me.”
“I didn’t lie!” she shouted, continuing to tug on her manacles.
“More lies!” He moved the dagger back to Jasmine’s throat. “Swear to me you’ll be obedient, or I’ll slit her throat where she stands. Choose carefully. Her life is in your hands.”
“I’ll obey. I’ll obey. Just let her go!”
He observed her. “I believe you, this time. Phoenix! Grab your woman and send for a healer.”
The warrior glided forward and took her pale friend from the warlord. Jasmine stared at her and didn’t even bother to struggle.
“Don’t take her away! Please!”
But the warrior paid her no mind and slipped out the door with Jasmine in tow. Sage tore her gaze from the door after it closed to glare at the warlord.
“Damn it!” He wiped the blood off his hand, his agitation apparent as he jerked his fingers across the fabric. “I hate this.”
She wanted to hit something. “Why?” she whispered, knowing he could hea
r her.
Zane cocked his head. “I can see your anger, Sage, and that’s only natural. But, remember what you promised. How you act in the future will affect Jasmine. Your transgressions will result in punishments for her, and I’d hate for you to witness that.”
“You’re sick.”
He gave her a tender look. “You think that now, but I think, in time, you’ll understand.” He reached for the bread and held it out to her. “You need to eat.”
She wanted to refuse, to spit at him and shout obscenities, but she didn’t. Like a good little captive, she bit into the bread and ate every bite.
The warlord lifted a lock of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers. “Adjustment periods are always difficult, but don’t worry. It’ll get easier.” He pursed his lips and stared at her wrists. “You’re bleeding,” he said flatly.
Sage blinked and looked up at her hands. Sure enough, blood was dripping down her arms. She hadn’t even noticed it.
“You must not harm yourself, or I’ll have to take drastic measures. Do you remember your first cell?”
Terror overwhelmed her. Darkness.
He nodded. “I see that you do. I’ll be back later to clean your wounds, but I’d like you to think about what your actions have wrought today. I hope you choose to do better next time. I don’t want our lives to be like this. I desire peace. This fighting gets old.”
Peace? What a joke. The promise of peace is what he’d lured her in with the first time. He might utter pretty words and make fine promises, but that was all they were. “I meant what I said,” she said softly. “Did you, Zane?” Something glinted in his eyes. Pleasure. She thought back to what she’d said. Zane. She’d used his name. Sage filed that away. That information could prove useful later.
“I always mean what I say. Have I broken my word?”
“No.”
“Show a little faith, wild one.”
“Do you think you deserve my faith and trust?”