by S. A. Parker
Kroe smooths his suit pants, skims a hand through his hair, watching me with a suspicious, narrowed gaze. But my job is done.
“I’ll take this one instead,” the High Fae states, with a nasty fucking quirk to his lips.
He missed me before—he hasn’t now.
“That one has a prior engagement, sir,” Kroe says, lifting his chin. “I’m sorry … can I interest you in—”
“No, you cannot.” The legionnaire flicks Kroe a gold drab. “I won’t be long.” He whips his hand around my arm, half dragging me up the stairs, Kroe following closely at our heels, obviously not wanting to lose tabs on his little cupcake vagina.
This was a real great idea. I’m full of them lately.
I think I’m imagining things when I spot a swathe of gold, curly hair in the crowd below, before we reach the second floor and I’m pulled into an empty suite. The door is slammed in Kroe’s face.
I guess he wants to make sure I don’t crawl out the window after I’ve been fucked seven ways sideways, but I doubt I’ll have the ability to even move once we’re done, if my instincts prove correct.
The legionnaire tosses me onto the ground and I slam against the dresser next to the bed, feeling a sharp pain as something cracks in my abdomen.
“How does a would-be breeder end up as a whore, that’s what I want to know,” he spits, leaning over me.
I try to answer but the only sound that comes out is a groan. I’m pretty sure he just snapped something important.
“Answer me, whore!”
“I don’t know …”
He spits at me, a thick wad that lands on my cheek. “You probably fucking asked for it. You like cock so much you couldn’t bear the thought of having only one every twelve months or so, eh? You’re all the fucking same, gagging for dick like the filth you are.”
He picks me up by my neck and I’m hanging like a rag doll before him. “Tell me, slut, how many cocks have you had in your life?”
I claw at my neck, unable to breath, let alone answer his ridiculous question.
Hissing, he heaves me against the stone wall. The impact rips the air from my lungs and I crumble in a heap at its base, managing to drag in a single, shuddering breath before he hauls me out by my feet, flips me over, pushes my legs apart and unbuttons his trousers. He spits on his hand before lathering himself up with his own saliva, and sheaths himself in me.
My body grinds backwards and forwards along the unforgiving floor, peeling skin off my limbs, painting the floor with my blood. His hand comes up to my head, forcing my face into the stone and having the same effect on the sharp of my right cheekbone.
I don’t know if I can come back from this.
I don’t know if I want to come back from this.
I blank in and out of consciousness as he hammers into me, over and over.
Finally, when there is nothing else, all I see are feathers.
Fucking feathers, I fucking hate them. I never want to see another feather again.
He empties himself inside me, hands around my neck, squeezing, squeezing until he’s spent. Then he leaves, walking out the door and slamming it shut behind him.
I can’t move, can barely breathe.
I’m so fucking alone.
I don’t want to die alone.
Shouldn’t Kroe be sauntering in right now to whack himself off over the sight of my blood?
I’m barely aware of a flash of white light blanketing the room, then I’m being peeled off the ground by gentle hands. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m not letting go.”
Aero.
He tugs me close and I let out a groan as all the emotions flood to the surface in a singular, heart-wrenching wave.
Another flash of white has me passing out entirely.
Chapter Nine
He told me he wouldn’t let me go, and by the looks of things, he hasn’t. It’s my first thought when I wake, submerged in the covers of the rose rock bed at my tower in the Dawn Kingdom, Aero sleeping next to me on my left side, one arm cocooning my head, the other wrapped around my left arm, fingers splayed against my cheek.
Kal, also sleeping, is horizontal to me, my legs across his lap, his head bent to rest against one foot which he’s holding in his cupped hands. Drake’s on my right side, holding my hand, his head nestled against my shoulder.
My heart starts to race … pounding so hard I’m sure the fucker’s going to explode. As nice and as cosy as this is, I’m panicking.
Get yourself under control, Dell.
My breathing thickens and I’m gasping, eyes darting everywhere, over the bandages covering my body, around the room, clawing at the dark world beyond the windows … coming to rest on the God of Day sitting on a seat before the fire hearth, watching me.
He looks like he’s barely breathing, his face unreadable, but his hands are wrapped tightly around the arms of the chair as the firelight licks at his perfect, godly features.
Moments pass, the only sound that of my fragile, beating heart … as we absorb each other, silently, our unsaid words driving a distance between us that I can’t face right now. I can’t face him.
I try to move, crying out as a shaft of pain slices through my abdomen. Sol grips the chair so hard it actually fucking groans. Aero pulls me tighter towards him, eliciting another strangled sound from my throat. Someone needs to peel the dawn vice off my broken bits.
Aero loosens his hold and sits up. The other two rouse instantly, worried expressions clinging to my every inch.
“I need … I need space …” I gasp, amidst laboured breaths.
My limbs are freed, my Gods jumping back off the bed. I bring my hands to my face, rubbing my palms over it and wincing at the still-raw wounds on my cheeks. “How many?”
“How many what?”
“The girls! How many?” I can’t get enough breath, I can’t look at them, I can’t fucking think straight.
It’s Sol who answers, from where he’s now standing, near the hearth. “Fifty-seven. You saved fifty-seven females.”
The lump that forms in my throat threatens to choke me. Fifty-seven, but twelve are left behind.
I left twelve behind.
Aero shifts in closer, perching himself on the edge of the bed. “Don’t fucking think like that. You saved those girls, Dell. The ones left behind either knew they were dying or that their bodies would never make the trip. The rest had lost the will to live.”
Daring to look him in the eye, I catch a glimpse of the depth of his emotion, which I choose to ignore. I can’t deal with that right now.
“I had lost the will to live. Why the fuck do I deserve to be here when they’re still stuck in that hell hole being treated like than fucking dirt?”
I need to get them out.
I start inching my way out of bed, my arm plastered over my midsection. It’ll take me years at this rate, but by the time I get there I’ll probably be well enough to help.
Kal clears his throat. “Day?”
And now I can’t move at all, my body laying back down without my permission to fucking do so.
Fuck you, Sol.
I lay there, unmoving, as the bottled-up emotion finally surges out of me in great, heaving sobs, tears which I can’t seem to stop once they start. They’re certainly not regular tears; the ones you can’t hear but you can see … no, these are tears that rip your soul open and bear it to the world. The ones that make you feel like you’re not in control of your life, or make you realise that you never were in the first place. That much is true for me, anyway, because I can’t let go of the past. It just keeps coming back to haunt me, and I’m so fucking inadequate that I could only get fifty-seven girls free, when an entire world of them are suffering.
Warm hands caress my face, and I don’t mind. I’ve just realised I’m too far gone for it to really matter anymore.
“Shhh. It’s okay.” Kal smooths the hair from my face. “It’s okay.”
It’s not though, it’s not okay at all.
At some point Gail comes in and sets some food on a table. My Gods insist I eat something, which leads to Kal hand feeding me little hard-boiled eggs.
Gail looks less than impressed when she returns an hour later and realises the platters have barely been touched, but my mind’s not on food right now—it’s on the thick wad of fuckery I just swam through naked.
I’m angry. Disappointed. Because even though I saved a small hoard of women, I didn’t exactly achieve it in admirable style.
“I used myself.” I’m looking straight out the window, into the shadows I belong in. It makes sense … to be raised in the darkness, what else should I expect than to become the darkness myself?
“You did what you had to do.” Kal says it as if he’s putting a full stop on the conversation, but I’m not even close to done.
The others are murmuring between themselves, having their own private conversation I’m apparently not privy to.
“I enjoyed some of it, Kal.” Yeah, now the room is really fucking quiet. “Maybe I’m just as bad as them.”
“You’re a survivor. Your body did what it had to do, to survive.”
“Because I can’t control the bitch.”
“You underestimate yourself, Dell ...”
I don’t. I know my body, know its strengths and weaknesses. They won’t always see me as a survivor—a little mortal body can only hold its own through the shit I’ve been through for so fucking long. But I don’t tell him that, choosing instead to marinate in my dark world where I’m just as bad as the fuckers who screw me daily. My mind was rotten well before the Sun Gods met me.
Time drips by in glorious mind-fucking silence. Kal slowly shuffles himself further onto the bed; inch by inch, until only a hair’s breadth separates us. I realise how exhausted I am, how little fight I have left in me. Even if I could move my traitorous body right now, I wouldn’t have the energy to run.
Not that I’d make it far without wings. I’d have to rely on my Kingdom of penis serpents to taxi me back to the mainland. Not that I can speak penis serpent. That would’ve been an interesting excursion with very little traction.
The three others are coagulated by the hearth, still speaking in hushed tones too quiet for my fantastic hearing to make out. Having a good old Sun God pow wow, it seems.
Conversation apparently over, Sol strides to the balcony door without looking back, and throws himself off the side of the building, into the night beyond.
I let out a shuddering sigh. There’s so much unsaid between us, and now he’s gone.
At least I can move now that he’s not here. I rub at my chest to try and ease the pain in my heart.
“You should sleep, Dell,” says Kal. “Your emotions are up and down … even I can’t keep up.”
I look up at the rose rock roof, and only now see the giant fucking hole in it.
Wow.
Aero gave my tower its own fucking skylight? It’s half the size of the roof!
I wonder what happens when it rains? Actually, no, I don’t care. I’m beyond impressed. I’ll dance naked in that rain.
I draw a deep breath, then slowly push it out. “I’m worried that if I go to sleep, I’ll wake back there again.” I stare at the stars, swallow back the tears threatening to spill again. “I thought I’d die there.”
“You’re here, you’re safe. We’re not going to let anything like that happen to you again.”
Shaking my head, I trail the brightness of the stars, studying the darkness that threatens to absorb them. “I’m realising more and more that fate works in really fucked up ways. I’m not immortal, Kal. I’m going to die. I’ve had a long time to get used to the fact.” I turn my face to the side and look him in the eye. “You can’t protect me from all the monsters. You can’t protect me from myself.”
His brow crinkles and he plucks a curl from my bandaged cheek. “You’re not a monster, you’ve just been exposed to a world of men who can’t control their own.”
I shake my head. “The things I did in there …”
“You saved the lives of fifty-seven girls. You got out alive.”
I study his face, the high arc of his cheekbones, long dark lashes framing his eyes and the way his well-defined cupid’s bow flows perfectly into full lips. He’s one sexy man god, I’ll hand him that.
“I’m not entirely convinced I am alive. Not properly.”
I turn my attention back to the sky, the stars, the nothingness overhead.
I mean what I said, even my vagina’s fucked off entirely. I tried to picture Kal’s lips becoming acquainted with my labia and she didn’t even blink a vulva.
My beast is nowhere to be seen ... probably because I’m frightened of her and she knows it. Probably because her presence reminds me of all the horrible things I’ve done over the past two weeks, chewing penises off and what not.
Perhaps she’s ashamed.
A mental picture of the severed cock flashes through my mind, and I can’t sit up quick enough, groaning because my body’s complaining like the weak bitch it is.
“What is it?”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m going to be sick,” I manage to grind out, and Drake grabs my wrist, flashing me straight to the bathroom and directly in front of the toilet bowl.
He’s standing over me, pulling my fucking hair back. The gesture’s so sweet it makes my stomach churn even harder. I can’t deal with sweet right now.
I signal for him to get the fuck out, but he hesitates, finally conceding when I throw a toilet brush at him. I reach my leg out and push the door shut with a loud slam before hurling my guts into the toilet bowl, splattering the sides and filling the bowl with blood.
A lot of it.
“Shit …” that’s a lot of red.
“Dell? I’m coming in.”
“Double shit.” I flush the evidence away before Aero can catch a glimpse of it himself, slapping the lid down right before he storms the fucking door. I stare the ruthless bastard down from my spot in front of the toilet. “Don’t you know anything about personal boundaries?”
He paces straight to the toilet, opening the lid and taking a peek inside the bowl. “I do, I just don’t give a fuck about them right now. What was that about blood?”
“My gums are bleeding. I haven’t brushed in days.”
He’s looking at me, looking at me still, yup … still looking at me. Wish he’d just point me in the direction of the toothbrushes and give me some personal space before I have a mental fucking breakdown.
His expression softens and he drags a stool over to the vanity then helps me stand, supporting me while I shuffle towards it. He prepares a toothbrush with some white tooth jizz then turns to leave the room. “Call when you’re done. Don’t try and come back out here by yourself, I don’t want you falling over and breaking something.”
Aye aye, Captain Big Cock. I’m not sure why he’s so worried about me breaking his house, it’s made of fucking rose rock.
“I mean your bones, Dell, for fuck’s sake ... you can crumble this place to the ground for all I care!” he bellows from behind the closed door.
“Oh …” Oops.
I brush the blood from my teeth and mouth, ignoring the mirror the whole time. I’m not entirely sure who it is I’ll see looking back at me right now.
Using the lavatory proves to be painful, but I’m thankful for that. All my other wounds are numbed; I’m glad they didn’t bother to numb my arsehole and vagina because I would’ve been really pissed if they had. My late vagina may have been fanging for these men, but even she would’ve been pissed off if they got a tickle in while she was passed the fuck out.
When I finally call for them, it’s Drake who returns for me.
“Hi …” I say from the safety of my stool.
“Hi … sorry, fuck. I’m not very good at keeping my distance right now.”
“It’s fine.” I wave my hand at him, ushering him closer. “I just needed some space. Sorry about the shit brush.”
/> He kneels in front of me and I can see by the look in his eyes that he wants to say something. He’s probably trying to find the right words to broach said subject with a tortured whore who bit a guy’s penis off. Problem is, I’m completely against being led in conversation right now.
“How did you get me out?” I ask, just as he opens his mouth to speak.
He swallows his words. “Ah … fuck, it wasn’t easy with so many wards to work around, plus we’re weak as shit at the moment.”
“That’s what I mean, how did you get me alone? Kroe was waiting outside the door for us to finish, he wasn’t willing to let me out of his sight after I disappeared for so long …”
Drake nods. “I know, that was the problem. We had to find a way to both subtly and strategically distract him from coming into the room straight after the red-winged fucker left, so it couldn’t be pinpointed to us, set off the wards and fucking kill us.”
Obviously. Am I imagining things or is the bastard jumping around the point?
“So … how’d you do it, Drake?”
He looks positively guilty—avoiding my eye contact as he draws a deep breath, lets it out and shrugs. “Started a fire.”
“You … you what? Are you fucking insane?”
I’m now picturing the entire place in ruins, charred bodies left right and centre. Those poor women, the ones who couldn’t make the trip because they were too injured or broken to leave. And their payment? Getting roasted alive by my fucking Sun Gods!
“Babe, calm down … I know it’s been your home, but it’s just a fucking brothel!”
“Don’t fucking tell me to be calm!” I’m ready to shed some fucking Dusk blood. I wonder if it runs gold?
“Is everyone okay in there?” Aero hollers from the door, making me hiss like a savage.
Drake looks nervous, like he actually wants to open that door and request backup. I level him with a death stare and watch the bastard gulp.
“Unless you want your balls roasted too, Aero, I suggest you leave that fucking door closed!”
I hear nothing more from my Dawn God. Clever man.
Drake sighs. “It wasn’t his idea, Dell …”