Sveti walked to her half-brother with her shoulders straight and a firm trod. But she carefully stopped several arms’ length from him. “Krystian,” she said flatly, looking him in the eye. She watched his lip curl up higher in a vindictive sneer.
He wore a dark burgundy tunic that should have clashed with his hair but didn’t, his pressed slacks were as deep blue as his cold merciless eyes. “What,” he snarked, “dear baby sister, no hug for your brother?”
She didn’t move. Sucking in a solid breath, Sveti let it out slowly. “Half-brother, Krystian. There is no need for us to pretend any affection. I am here as a trade for Ryen as you ordered. I presume he is unharmed, alive?”
The side of his mouth edged up, his snake’s eyes glazed with malevolence. “Ah, you are not quite the timid little girl you were before you allowed that savage to fuck you.”
Her lashes whisked over her cheeks at the slur before rising to meet his bestial gaze. “I married Principé Devilos Dravidian, Krystian, as you know. Per your deal, you know the one, selling my virginity to the highest prince bidder, Devilos paid you and sent you our DNA. It was what you wanted, we did not cheat-”
“It was my decision you bitch!” his fury bellowed.
Stepping to her, lids low hiding half his psychotic furor, he thundered, “It was my choice to sell you or keep you, not yours. I would not willingly have sold you to that demon creature from Nasitar, he was not…malleable.”
His hands clenched into fists, spit flew out with his rage. “Whatever prince I chose to fuck you was supposed to come here,” he swung his hand in an arc across the front of him. “Marry you here, so I could get my spell done then kill him and keep you.”
Krystian swept his palms over his auburn hair, smoothing the thick waves back, collecting his composure.
Forcing her trembling body to not back away from him, she said quietly, “I’m sorry you are displeased with the arrangement but-”
“Oh, darling,” his smirk pure evil, “you will find out how displeased I am. You are lucky I still desire you, or you would be dead already.” In a flash Krystian slapped her so hard she flew back and slammed to the floor.
He bent and grabbed her hair jerking her to her feet.
Before she caught her balance he gripped her face, nails digging into her flesh, he pressed their mouths together so hard Sveti’s teeth bit into her lips. His brutal kiss, with depraved cruelty punctured blood from her soft mouth.
He released her suddenly, wiped the back of his hand over his own mouth. Seeing the pain crease her face, the trickle of blood over her swollen lips, with a malice tainted smile, he sneered, “That is infantly tame, darling, compared to what I plan on doing to you, after I mete out your punishment. Yes,” he nodded ghoulishly.
“You will be severely disciplined and then I will fuck you, in every possible way, every day, forever, dear sister, like I have always desired, always planned.”
Sveti put her hand to her bleeding mouth and stumbled back from him but he grabbed her chin, jerked her forward and squeezed it with ruthless cruelty.
“You will bear my heirs, Sveti, you will never be free of me again. If you try to escape, I will slaughter your, our, entire family.”
Hauling his hand back he slapped her again hard enough to knock her back down to the ground. She landed with a breathless sob.
Staring down at her curled on the floor leaning back on one palm, Krystian snarled to the guards, “Take her to the cell I prepared.”
To Sveti he said without inflection, “You will stay in the cell for…let’s see,” his eyes rolled back and forth as if thinking, “a long time without food. I want you meek and eager to please me when I have you brought to me. After that, a maid will help you dress into what a princess of your standing, one who is worthy of me, should be wearing. You will quickly forget that satanic freak you married.”
Her hand on her aching face, her contempt for him sprayed from belligerent eyes. “Do what you will, Krystian, you can batter my body, but you will never beat out of my thoughts of Devilos, my husband, from me.”
He propped his fists on his hips, taunted, “What you don’t know, my sweet, is that I will kill that bastard thereby ending that meaningless marriage of yours, make you a widow setting you free to wed me.”
He leaned over her, dark blue eyes spitting grim hell, he snarled, “I will burn that demon from your brain. Mark my words.” Standing straight, he nodded sharply to the guards.
Her face stinging, Sveti didn’t fight the guards that pulled her to her feet and took her from the salon. They brought her to a cell, thrust her inside, and locked the door.
Stumbling, Sveti set her hand on a wall to catch her balance and looked around.
There was nothing to see, three steel walls and a door with a tiny window in it covered with bars. That was it. Not a chair or blanket, nothing. A tiny hole was dug into the stone floor for waste.
Sveti sunk to the cold stone floor, wrapped her arms around her knees, then let the sobs roll out.
True to his word, Krystian had no food, only water, brought to her for a time long enough to break her. She was lying on her back, half delirious when the guards came for her.
They took her to a chamber, led her inside, followed her in and locked the door.
A thin, nervous woman waited with a shaky smile. Twisting her fingers together, she bowed. “Hello Prințesă,” she cleared her voice, eyes skipping to the guards and back to Sveti. “My name is Vania. I am to help you bathe, dress, do your hair for your bro- uh, Principé Ritrova.”
The woman dressed in a floor length white gown, was in her forties and wore her dark hair in a tight chignon.
Sveti had returned to Qoph expecting, knowing what was going to happen to her. She couldn’t run, or fight, or balk, she couldn’t think about Devilos ever again or she would completely die inside over the loss.
She had to believe that Devilos would remain safe and if there was a God, he would set off on a mission where he couldn’t come search for her and hopefully he would eventually forget about her.
Krystian would annul their marriage under abandonment decrees and then they would wed. She needed to accept her fate with as much grace and endurance that she could.
Starving and weak, Sveti nonetheless smiled kindly, “Thank you, Vania.”
The maid helped her to bathe, wash her hair and set it, then she dressed Sveti in an opalescent powder blue, gossamer-light shimmering gown. When she slipped the pastel blue ballet slippers on, Sveti was ready to face her future.
The guards brought her to Krystian’s chambers. In a cobalt blue tunic and darker blue slacks, his auburn waves perfectly coiffed, he stood facing the door with his hands clasped behind his back.
Handsome face frosty with arrogance, his smile harrowing, he took in the shining curls flaming down her back, brilliant blue eyes now haunted with loss, the plush lips tight with fear, the feminine dress skimmed the still lush curves of her slender, now thinner than ever figure down to the slippers.
“Ah, so beautiful, my darling sister,” he murmured moving towards her.
Seeing the quirk of her lip, Krystian smiled. He loved calling her his sister, got a perverse sick thrill out of it, especially since he knew it disturbed her, and everyone else. Sveti didn’t move.
He looked at the severe curve of her slight waist with shake of his head. “Too bad about the starvation, sister, but you need to learn who your master is. The good news is,” his lewd grin aimed at her chest, “skinny as shit but you still have the finest tits in the fucking galaxy.” His hand suddenly whipped out and he slapped her.
When she staggered backwards, he shot his hand out and clutched her bodice, pulling her back. Holding onto her dress, his face a sick warped smile, he slapped her again and again and again until she could no longer stand.
When she crumpled to the floor, he let her go.
Bending over her he spoke calmly, “No, you don’t get off that easy, darling. Don’t move,” he chuckled at tha
t then went to a closet and came back with a cane.
On her butt, her elbows bent, Sveti leaned back on her palms, her eyes wide at the cane. “No, please, Krystian, we’re- we’re family, you can’t-” She broke off with a shriek at the strike on her arm.
“Oh,” he sneered, “now we’re family. This past year you did everything you could to refuse me as your brother. You avoided me, stuck that little nose of yours up in the air whenever I came into a room.” He lashed wickedly at her other arm with the cane, his lips twisted with sadistic satisfaction at her choked scream.
“You rebuffed all my advances, no one else ever had the fucking balls to refuse me, well, Svetiessa, my baby sister, that is done.” The sick nasty grin deepened as he swung the cane, striking her everywhere as she tried to get away from him.
She covered her head with her arms, he saw her ring flash. “What the hell, you still wear the barbarian’s brand?” Krystian crouched with his hand out demanded, “Give it to me.”
Sveti’s eyes closed as she clasped her hand to her breast holding it with the other and shook her head. Tears streaming, her voice hoarse from screaming, she rasped, “Never.”
Frowning, he slid a knife out of his pocket. “I will cut your finger off, give it to me.”
She stayed huddled into herself, holding her hand tight to her chest. Her whipped body ached, screamed in pain, her skin burned in agony from his whipping.
“You bitch,” he swore, grabbed her arm wrenching it so hard she cried out. He pried her finger up, snapped it and then ripped the ring off, his mouth pulled in gleefully at her hoarse shriek, it seems he broke her finger. Oh well.
He unclasped a gold necklace from around his neck, slipped the ring on it, and put it back around his neck, smirking at her sad horror, her bereft eyes on her wedding band.
He stood up. “All right, I wasn’t done yet,” and he viciously whipped her until the dress was in shreds and her blood flowed. The sapphire eyes glowed with lascivious insanity watching her writhing in agony on the floor at every lash. Her skin was covered in red weeping lacerations, blood streamed over her body from everywhere.
Curved in a tight fetal ball, her tortured skin rippled and quivered in pain, her sobs had weakened to wheezing gasps, Sveti’s brain shrieked for relief from the burning torment. His last strike accidentally scraped across her cheek.
“Fuck,” he grunted, “I did not want to mar that beauty of yours. Oh well,” one shoulder shrugged, “it will heal. Now, come,” bending over her he held out his hand.
Tears and pain blurring her vision, huddled trembling on the floor, Sveti stared at his proffered hand. She was too weak to reach up to it.
Sighing, he smiled, “Fine, I will help you.” He bent over further and took her hand lifting her to her feet.
Grinning cheerfully, he said, swinging their hands, “Now the real fun begins.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Krystian half walked half carried her down the corridor to a vast chamber of smoky grey walls and marble floor. The immense room contained only dozens of guards, and a divan placed in the middle, no other furniture, or ornamentation.
Sveti was so hungry and is such pain, she didn’t notice the stares of the guards, ogling her in the shredded gown.
The smile no longer present, Krystian cursed then told her, “You humiliated me by leaving me and marrying another man, so now I will humiliate you. I will strip you and fuck you naked in front of my men. They will enjoy the show of my cock perforating your gorgeous ass.”
He held his hand out to a guard, the guard set chains in it. Krystian’s eyes gleamed with horrid glee at the terror wreathing her waxen face, her panicked eyes on the chains.
Holding the chains in one hand, he slapped her, knocking her down. He turned sharply and glared at the murmur that passed through some of the guards. Then he bent, snatched his fist in her hair and wrenched her up.
Sveti wobbled on unsteady feet while Krystian grasped one of her wrists yanking it behind her back.
Wrapping a chain around it, his lips in her hair, he murmured, “You have the most delicate wrists, darling, beautiful hands, such dainty fingers,” he jerked her other wrist back ignoring her gasp of pain and chained her wrists together.
“I particularly like the swollen ring finger. Breaks hurt like a bitch, don’t they, my darling sister?”
Spinning her around, he ripped the already torn dress across her chest and shoved the pieces back off her shoulders, exposing her breasts in the miniscule scrap of lacey bra he had sent for her to wear. The shredded skirt of the gown was now mere pearlescent, powder blue strips.
Holding her upper arms with a painful grip, Krystian’s deviant eyes, like immoral blue spotlights, glimmered over Sveti’s breasts.
He bowed his head, kissed the swell of one of her lush mounds, then licked between her cleavage, then bit her, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to leave an angry red imprint and rent a scream through her raw throat.
He threw his head back with a degrading, guttural laugh ignoring the men murmuring around him. Most of them were hoping when the principé was done, he would turn her over to them, many chops were being licked. Others were appalled at his brutal treatment of the small female, and his own sister.
But today, sadism was his, and he viciously hit her again and again, having to hold her up by her neck as her body gave out and she hadn’t the strength to stand.
Dragging Sveti to the divan, Krystian put his hands on her waist, lifted her and set her on her knees on the divan. She cried out in pain when her beaten knees hit the couch. She wobbled on the cushion unable to level her balance with her hands retrained behind her back, waves of dizziness assaulted her bruised brain.
Watching her breasts bounce as she struggled to keep still, with a smile he chucked her chin to get her attention.
Her brutalized head lolled, he gripped her jaw to hold her head up. Limp tousled curls draped over her battered face and down to spiral over her almost completely bared breasts. Her blood pooled, soiling the divan beneath her.
“First, darling,” Krystian told her, “you will suck my dick dry, you will choke on it, gag on it as I shove it down your throat and you will swallow every drop. My cock stuffed in your pretty mouth will show you who is master, who has won. When I recover from my orgasm, I will fuck you to bloody gore.”
His chuckle so sick every person present felt disemboweled of their sanity, unexpectedly frightened from the pure portent evilness of his vow, his sadistic smile chilled everyone to the bone. “I mean you’re already bloody on the outside, your insides will soon match that lovely crimson red, eh?”
He climbed on the divan and faced her. Sitting sat back on his heels, he opened his pants. Tugging his erection from his trousers, he fisted it then wrapped a hand around the front of her neck to hold her immobile for his rapacious brutal kisses while he pumped his cock to get it stiffer.
Laughing guttural grunts, he slid his hand around to grasp the back of her neck, and forced her head down to his penis.
Then he paused, allowing his victorious grin to shine. “I think you need to be naked for this, my beloved sister, the degradation must be complete.”
Releasing his member, he moved to wrench the rest of her tattered gown and lingerie off before he shoved his shaft into her mouth.
At that second, the entire back wall of glass shattered, and suddenly, Devilos was there.
He had moved so fast he wasn’t even discerned busting in from outside. Bowie materialized beside him.
Dev’s cloaked airship was invisible and off radar, he’d flown in undetected and landed behind the castle then used an x-ray radar to locate where Sveti was inside.
Shocked, Krystian shoved his dick in his pants and scrambled to his feet dragging Sveti with him. “What the fuck is this?” he squawked with anger and confusion.
If he wasn’t holding her, Sveti would have collapsed on the cool marble floor from her hunger and brutal beatings.
Krystia
n gripped her hair and held it tight to keep her head up, forcing her to look at the demon that was her husband.
But all caring and desire was gone from Dev’s face. His expression implacable like a sheet of dark iron, he stared at her with blank black eyes. Then a flicker of hurt and rage pulsed in the rich orbs sending chills down Sveti’s spine, before going back to a blank slate.
His long black lashes dropped over his eyes. When they lifted, his deadly gaze was a ruthless white current slicing across the room to Krystian.
The guards shifted, unsure what they were supposed to do until Krystian gave orders.
Seeing the threat from Devilos, Krystian released Sveti’s hair and pushed her back onto the divan. A slow, sinister grin cut up his face. “Ah, you must be the savage, the demon husband. Good, good.” The grin widened with his nodding head.
Palming his waves of auburn hair, slicking them back off his forehead, he said, “You couldn’t have done any better. Except for the damage,” he frowned at the broken glass, then shrugged.
“This is exactly what I wanted in the first place. I got your DNA blend, and my spell, my power and strength have increased twenty fold, and, I can kill you like I had planned, and keep Sveti for myself.”
A guard was standing in a hidden alcove, he stepped out with his flashgun aimed at Dev.
Krystian grinned more broadly, nodded at another guard who turned and rushed out of the room.
Dev stood and calmly scanned the chamber.
Losing the grin at seeing the unperturbed demon warrior, Krystian snarled with an aggressive grimace, “What, you think you can break into my home and take what is mine?” His clenched fist and brief scowl cast from Dev to Sveti who was struggling to stay conscious.
“No,” Sveti cried weakly, rasping in pain. “Please, Krystian, I did as you asked, I am here.” She drew a ragged breath spoke with ragged hitches, “You promised that you would let Ryen go and not retaliate against Devilos. You can’t hurt him-”
“Shut up!” Krystian thundered at her.
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