Nojan (The Vartik King Chronicles Book 2)

by Liza Probz

  “I hope he gives her to his sons. Can you imagine their delight to deflower an oracle? Isn’t it against her religion to fuck?” The other guard laughed before popping her in the back of the head.

  Their words, though easy to understand, were muted by the warmth racing through her. The tears dripping over her dirty cheeks had little to do with her punishment and everything to do with being seen, maybe for the first time ever.

  Maybe she wasn’t the horrific creature she believed herself to be. Was there a possibility that they had beaten her down emotionally? Maybe they were trying to break her enough to never allow her to believe herself capable of being whole?

  The male had been so familiar, but maybe it was because of the visions she’d had about the poor boy in the dark on his face, naked and beaten. Was he the same man? Had he come to collect her on Vanfia as she was hoping to do for him in the darkness where he rotted? Had he simply gained his freedom and come for her?

  Hope swelled inside of her as the guards released her. She dropped to her hands and knees on the stony ground, stifling a yelp as the rocks tore into her hands and knees.

  “How dare you defy me and my house? After all we’ve done for you.” The king’s voice was tight and filled with hatred. “All of these years, you’ve eaten my food and been held under my protection, and where is the gratitude? You not only steal money from my only daughter, but you take her robe and kill one of my guards as well. What the hell has gotten into you, child? Do you wish for death?”

  Yes. Everyday.

  Mayra kept her head down and continued to weep as fear as hope battled deep inside of her. Would the handsome stranger come to save her?

  Did she want him to?

  No. He would lose his life, and something told her that he was far more precious to someone than she ever would be. Surely, he had a family back on Territh that loved him. That cared greatly for him and would miss him should he perish. She didn’t. She had nothing.

  Territh. The land of the humans, of her people. How badly she longed to go back and experience the blue waters and green pastures that she’d heard stories of but couldn’t remember. The handsome stranger was from her homeland, but there was something different about him, something that didn’t quite fit. It was in his eyes, the way they’d turned dark with a pulsing crimson circle around his pupil.

  Still, she’d seen too few Territhians in her time to be sure. Perhaps all human males had eyes like that. A little voice inside her whispered that he was unique, but she pushed it away and tried to concentrate on her current situation.

  “Father. You need to give her a fair trial!” Demaylia’s voice caused Mayra to glance up.

  The king’s boot slammed into the side of the slave girl’s face, knocking her to the ground. Blood poured from her mouth, but she remained prostrate, not wanting to take too much more in the way of punishment if possible. Her breath caught in her chest as pain raced through her face and pulsed at the back of her head. Dizziness swam inside her and caused her stomach to sicken. Bile rose up her throat, but she forced herself to swallow it back down. There was no way she was going to move to her hands and knees and vomit in front of the king. If any of it got on his shoes, she would be torn to shreds.

  “Father!” Demaylia knelt beside Mayra and brushed her hair back. “Tell me what happened. I know you wouldn’t steal from me. That you wouldn’t kill without reason. Tell me, Mayra. Tell us all.”

  “Silence! Stand up now, Demaylia, and move back. We will not hear the lies from this harlot’s mouth.”

  Mayra closed her eyes as warmth rushed through her. The fluttering in her chest had little to do with her heart and everything to do with the power that lived inside of her. She needed to unlock it, but without the help of a worthy male, she’d remain a pitiful girl from Territh and nothing more. The great oracle she was to become would forever be lost to all of them.

  The king was sure to seal his own coffin by mishandling her. An oracle was a gift from the gods to their followers, and he would have to repay his actions in full. She could only hope that she would be there the day he hit the ground.

  “Father, please. Look. She had a bag with the items I requested of her. She didn’t kill anyone. You didn’t, right, Mayra?”

  “Get up!” He knelt down and jerked Demaylia up violently before pushing her toward the castle. “Go to your room and do not come out until you are called upon.”

  “Daddy! Please?”

  Mayra let her tears flow freely and tried to search the crowd that had gathered around them, looking for the face of the foreigner but not finding him. Good. Though some part of her wanted him to be amongst the faces, she prayed like hell that he’d run far from the horror of what was sure to come.

  “Pull her back up,” the king commanded.

  Mayra groaned loudly as one of the guards gripped her hair and pulled. She scrambled to her feet and tried to see the king through her busted eye but could barely make him out. She blinked furiously, trying to get the sand from her other eye as tears rolled down her face.

  A myriad of possible punishments played themselves out in her mind. Death was most likely, of course. There were a thousand ways to be put to death on Vanfia. Rantel was fond of choosing the means of execution he thought most likely to terrify the recipient. If he could pry their worst fear from the condemned’s lips, he’d use the information against them.

  Please oh please don’t let him know my fear. Don’t let him lock me in a box in the dark, unable to move. Anything would be preferable to that. Even death at the hands of his brutal sons.

  “The blue blood on your gown tells of your deception, girl. For this, death should be awarded, but I will have mercy on you for my daughter’s sake.” He reached out and pressed his paw under her chin as he lifted her face a little. “You will become a shared treasure between my three boys.”

  “Sire.” Mayra knew she risked her life by speaking out of turn, but surely, death would be better than to be a concubine to three full-grown Vanfian males. Nothing could be more horrific. The smell alone was something of nightmares. “I will lose all of my powers, and you will be without an oracle. Please do not do this thing. I can explain and will repay my debt in any way possible, but do not—”

  “Silence, girl. Oracles are a dime a dozen. We will find another in no time. Terap will help us.” He snorted and pressed his paw in harder, cutting into the soft flesh of her throat. “You will moan with pleasure and writhe with ecstasy every night, thanks to my boys. It’s a gift I’d not give to just anyone, but I know what type of hell it will become for you. To be a whore to a foreign king and lose the only part of you that might have been beautiful. Shame really, but you’ve called this upon yourself, child.”

  “No. Please. Anything but this.” Mayra turned her head and screamed as loudly as she could, begging the people around her for help. The guards dragged her toward the castle as she continued to fight against them. Surely, there had to be a way to offend them to the point of bringing their sword to her chest and draining her. Anything but the punishment she’d been given.

  Embarrassment was all but gone, and finally, terror had taken its proper place.

  Chapter 8

  Nojan pressed his fingers to his lips and tried to stay still in the middle of the crowd. To draw attention to himself would be ignorant, and yet to watch the beautiful creature before him be humiliated, beaten, and sentenced to sexual servitude was too much.

  Every muscle in his body locked into place as he tried to find his center. Rushing ahead and killing the men standing around her would only bring an army to his door and turn the galaxy against him. As much as his heart ached in his chest for her plight, he had to be smart, as any diplomat would be. Death wouldn’t do them any favors as the bastard king wasn’t a respecter of people at all. It would consume the girl and him in one fell swoop. Then where would they be?

  She had to be the woman he’d come from Vartik to find, and that alone would gain him a bit of grace with his father s
hould the shit hit the fan.

  He closed his eyes and tried to dial into her thoughts. The minute he did, he wished he hadn’t. The pain inside of her was almost overwhelming. It danced through her mind in varying waves, but each seemed to pull her toward a numbness that was deadening, scary.

  Darkness. She was cloaked in a thick darkness, and the only sound was the beating of her heart. A soft fluttering could be heard as he honed in further on her thoughts. They were of him. Of his beauty and his willingness to see beyond her ugliness.

  “Ugly?” He opened his eyes and pressed his hand to his chest. It was her. The oracle he needed to accompany him back to Vartik. He had no doubt. The very fact that the beautiful creature on her face before the king believed herself to be vile was a testament to what Kara had shared with him.

  His heart swelled in his chest as she was pulled to her feet and began circling the crowd, screaming with desperation for help. What would have happened should he not have been there? Would someone else have stepped up?

  Nojan forced himself to stay in place as the guard moved her around the king and left the ugly bastard smiling at the crowd.

  “Let this be a stark warning. I am the king of this land and you are foreigners. If you think to come against me, even in the slightest of offenses, I will cut you down and construct a personal hell just for you to enjoy. No one is greater than me. Not you, nor my people, nor my family, nor the gods. Not even their precious oracle. No one.” He straightened his shoulders and turned to walk back toward the castle.

  “Fuck,” Nojan murmured and moved toward the king as guards flanked either side of him. He worked through all he could remember about his studies on the Vanfians, which was vast.

  “State your business, human,” one of the guards barked.

  The king stopped and turned, forcing Nojan and the guards to stop as well.

  “Of course. My father is a linen dealer on Territh. He spoke quite highly of the king and his particular taste for the most exquisite cloth available.” Nojan glanced toward the guards and shrugged. “I mean no harm. I just wanted to present a gift in hopes of securing future business should his majesty enjoy the texture and feel of what I have to offer.”

  “I’m right here, boy. Speak freely.” Rantel lifted his furry eyebrow and motioned for Nojan to step closer. “What have you brought for me? Let me see it.”

  Nojan knelt and pulled out a long red strand of satin and another of silk from his bag. He laid them across his open palms and extended his hands up, giving the king honor that he didn’t at all deserve. The bastard was addicted to finer things, but even more so to undue respect. To gain undeserved worship was like a drug to his kind.

  “Hmm, I like them.” Rantel pulled both pieces of fabric from Nojan’s hands and rubbed them along his face. “Stand. I’ll speak with you about more of this same material tomorrow.”

  “My ship leaves today, sire. I would greatly like to speak to you of a trade. Ten yards of each?”

  “What amount are you pricing these fabrics for someone like me? Be reasonable, and remember, I’m in the mood to see blood spilled.”

  Nojan chuckled and stood to his full height. “I want the girl.”

  “The girl?” The king glanced behind him. “My daughter? Excellent. Take her. She stays on my last nerve as it were.”

  “No. The oracle. I want her for my brother’s harem. He is a ruler on Territh and will be taking a wife soon. He needs a few unbroken whores for concubines. It’s more than fair that you give me her and a thousand rubbals, but I only ask for the girl.”

  “No. Her pain is my pleasure.” The king narrowed his eyes. “You have a million women like her on Territh. Why her?”

  “She’s already trained, sire. I saw the way she stayed down when you approached. She lay prostrate on the ground and worshiped you though she knew her death was inevitable. And then she burst up like a firecracker. I need her as a gift to my brother. Please do not deny me.” Nojan bowed low again and averted his eyes up toward the king. It would most likely leave him drained, but he was too close not to push the final lap and hypnotize the older man.

  He forced his power onto the king and stood back up. “Let me have the girl and I’ll have the linens delivered tonight.”

  Weariness rolled over him as the king nodded. “She is yours.”

  “But sire—” one of the guards began.

  “Get her. Now. Take her to the trader’s ship and get my linens in return.” The king turned his attention back on Nojan and nodded. “Good doing business with you. Come back any time.”

  “I shall.” Nojan slipped his hands into his pockets and tried to dismiss the feeling that he was going to pass out any minute.

  “Go back to your ship, trader. Tell us the number on the side of the aircraft and we’ll have the girl to you shortly. She’s getting a beating for murdering one of our guards.”

  “Fine. It’s CA-123, but ensure that you don’t hurt her too badly and that you don’t devirginize her. That is the gift I’m looking for.” He narrowed his eyes and tried to keep his cool at the thought of someone hurting her. “What is her name?”

  “Ask her yourself.” The guard turned. “We’ll deliver the whore within the hour. No sooner.”

  “Fine. Make sure of that.” Nojan turned and stumbled back to his ship, barely making it onboard before his legs gave out underneath him. He was the strongest of his brothers in terms of utilizing his gifts and keeping his strength in check, but having to use it twice in a matter of hours was too much for any of them, him included.

  He stretched out in the chair nearest the door and tried to stifle the fear that rushed through him. Surely, they wouldn’t destroy her. They were animals, beasts with no compassion and a hunger for world dominance, but the king’s directives would be followed.

  Right?

  Chapter 9

  “Let me go. Please. Just let me go. You don’t know what you’re doing.” Mayra tried to pull out of the guard’s hold, only to have his arms tighten around her.

  “Shut the fuck up and stop jerking about or we’ll knock you out and let the boys have their way with you while you have no means to fight back.” The guard growled in her ear and pawed at her breasts as his breath washed across her neck. “These are disgusting. How a man would be turned on by this additional fat on your body is gross.”

  “She is quite vile.” The other guard walked in front of her, and she lifted her leg and kicked him hard.

  “Fuck you,” she growled and jerked side to side, slamming the back of her head into the guard behind her. She wasn’t sure where her aggression was coming from, but after so many years of having every person in her life shit on her, she was done. There was nothing left to do but fight. They’d given her no choice.

  “Hold her down. Let her choke on my cock while she waits.” The third guard in the room tugged open is robe and pulled off his undergarments as he walked toward her. Something long and bright red began to descend from just below his belt, and she lost it.

  Despite her struggles, she couldn’t escape. The guard grew closer, causing waves of panic to flood her mind. In that moment, she realized that life was brutal, short, and nothing more.

  “Mayra?” Demaylia’s voice was soft as the princess called for her.

  The guard with his cock out quickly closed his robe before the girl reached them. They’d pulled her into the lounge room where the family usually spent the evenings laughing and playing games. Was that to be the scene of her rape? Of her first rape at least?

  The hands on her relaxed, allowing Mayra to struggle away from her captors even as the princess reached out a hand to her.

  “Don’t touch me,” Mayra bit out and moved back, pressing her back to the wall as she looked around frantically, waiting for the next round of danger to present itself.

  “It’s just me,” Demaylia said, confused. “I would never hurt you.” When Mayra didn’t respond, the princess started crying. “Let me near you, please?”

  �
��So you can turn on me too? I’ve been nothing but good and kind to the vilest creatures on this planet and you’ve returned my kindness and quiet servitude with rape, death, and the sharp sting of your paw. I wish you all a fiery death in Danzmin.”

  “Don’t do this. You know that I love you. You’re like a sister to me.” Demaylia’s paws were soft as they touched Mayra’s face, but it was hard not to jerk away.

  “Then help me escape this place. I cannot lose the only thing beautiful about me.” Mayra let the sob that was trapped in her throat escape. “If I’m not an oracle, then I’m nothing.”

  “That’s not true.” Demaylia pulled her into a tight hug. “You’ve been sold to a trader in the market. Sit tight on his ship tonight and I will find a way to rescue you, okay? Just make sure he doesn’t leave.”

  “I was sold?” Hope raced through Mayra’s mind. Was it the Territhian? What if it wasn’t? Was she headed for a worse fate than the one she was currently facing at the hands of the Vanfian princes? No. Nothing could be more horrible than that, at least not anything her tattered mind was capable of conjuring up.

  “Yes, but not to worry. I’ll work all of this out with my father and come for you. You’re the only slave I want around me, the only one I trust.” Demaylia kissed the side of her face. “Come now. Let us take you to this trader as we wouldn’t want him to bring harm on the castle by not getting what is due to him. Just don’t worry. I’d never let anything happen to you.”

  Although she couldn’t believe the princess’s promises, she allowed herself to be led. Weariness rolled over Mayra as she walked through the castle halls with Demaylia, only to lose her footing in the garden beyond the castle and fall to her hands and knees.

  “Mayra!” Demaylia dropped down next to her. “Are you all right? Do you need the guards to come and carry you?”

  “Yes. Go get one of them that you trust. I will wait here.” Mayra pressed her forehead to the warm grass beneath her and tried to blink through the haze covering her good eye. Nothing.