Gods knew, I needed every ounce of bravery I could muster when I caught sight of her at last.
I could barely make her out in the dim red glow, but from what I could see she was old. Ancient. She sat hunched over with her back to me, head slightly turned so I caught just a sliver of her wrinkled face. Her nose was sharp as a crow’s beak, her eyes mere slits. A tangled mess of silver white hair hung down her back, nearly reaching her waist. She was shrouded in a shapeless black cloak. Despite the stifling heat emanating from the earth beneath us, she held it tight around her neck with her other hand.
I grimaced as the scorching heat penetrated the soles of my boots. Burned my feet.
“Closer.” Her voice was thin and reedy, the voice of an old crone.
Narrow slashes began to appear in the ground around me, open wounds in the earth oozing fire red as blood.
To this day, I don’t know why I obeyed. I’ve thought about it long and often. She hadn’t put a spell on me, though I had no doubt she could if she wanted to. I’d never seen anyone look more like a witch straight out of the tales I read in my childhood. I still believe I had the freedom at that moment to choose my destiny.
But like the foolhardy young man I was, I kept going – and thereby sealed my fate.
Melisandre
I stood in the shadows, watching. Neither of them could see me, of that I was certain. I’d been there so many times before.
The young man stared down at the fissures appearing in the ground beneath his feet, glanced around wildly. There was no safe path to take. Behind him, lava began bubbling to the surface. In front of him, flames as tall as a horse shot from ragged openings pockmarking the surface here and there. He started toward the old woman, stepping over the widening gaps.
When I first saw him, he’d been just a lad. Over the years he aged, until now the figure I beheld was that of a full-grown male. Tall and strong.
He swiveled his head in my direction and I saw his face clearly for the first time. Square jaw and chiseled cheekbones highlighted by the light and shadow of the flickering flames. High forehead with a stray lock of wavy dark hair falling over it. And startling blue eyes, the color of the tropical sea when the sun sparkles on it.
He looked straight at me. I shrank back into the shadows, but he never acknowledged my existence. It was as though I was a wraith, a spirit hovering at the scene.
The old woman beckoned him again. He turned away from me and walked straight into the glowing coals.
As I watched, his boots burst into flame, yet he kept moving forward. He stripped off his shirt and tried to smother the blaze as he walked, but the garment caught fire. He tossed it aside. It hurled through the dark sky like a dying comet.
His upper body glistened with a film of sweat from the heat. When he moved, sleek muscles flexed on his chest, highlighted by the glow of the fire.
The flames moved up from his boots, burned away his trousers. I watched his face contort in pain.
Still he walked on, naked as the day he was born. Sweat poured off him now, ran in rivulets over his powerful chest, down his back. I caught my breath. Though I’d witnessed his meeting with the old woman many times, I’d never seen him unclothed before. In fact, I’d never seen any grown male stark naked.
I had no idea a man’s body could be so beautiful.
In the glow of the flames, the muscles in his ass and thighs rippled under his skin as he moved. His penis jutted out from his body, thick and long. Swaying from side to side as he strode on. I gasped. Were all men so big?
Though I was a virgin, I knew about sex. I’d heard my female servants giggling and sharing secrets. I had a sudden urge to touch his cock. To run my fingers over the silky-smooth surface and see if there really was a core of steel beneath, like they said. My belly clenched, and I felt a gush of fluid between my legs.
I heard an ominous rumbling, felt the ground shudder beneath my feet.
And then the earth burst open. Spewing a river of fire that crossed his path, flowing between him and the old woman.
He never hesitated, simply strode into the fire.
The flames swallowed him up. I watched as his body turned black, his beautiful bare skin blistering and cracking apart.
He opened his mouth and I cringed, expecting to hear him scream in agony.
Instead, over the crackling and thrumming of the flames, I heard a terrible roar. Saw with my own eyes the brilliant red scales forming where skin had once been, the huge crimson and gold wings unfurling from his scorched back. Watched in horror as he sprouted horns and a tongue of fire shot from his mouth. Watched the magnificent young man transform into a beautiful, horrible beast.
A fire-born dragon.
I woke drenched in sweat. The dream had come back. More vivid than ever before. I knew I’d never get back to sleep.
My pussy was dripping wet. Erotic images flooded my brain. The sight of his erect manhood had stirred wicked cravings in me. Dark desires. Hungers I had neither the time nor the ability to satisfy.
I had too many responsibilities. Utmost among them was the responsibility to remain unsullied. Even if my magnificent young man was real and I managed to find him somehow, I could hardly claim to be a virgin queen if I opened my legs to welcome that gorgeous cock, no matter how much I longed to have it fill the emptiness inside me right now.
I sighed and slid one hand between my thighs, rubbing my throbbing little nub. Panting and squirming as I imagined his thick shaft thrusting into me, setting me on fire.
Knowing all the while even the wicked sensations pouring through my body wouldn’t block out the overwhelming feeling of dread that has been with me for so long.
Chapter One
Melisandre
I claimed the throne three weeks shy of my eighteenth birthday.
Looking back, it seems absurd. A young girl, barely more than a child, seizing the reins of a kingdom. Taking on the responsibility of caring for the well-being, the very lives, of millions.
At the time, I felt I had no choice. My father, King Vidos, had been murdered. I knew it as surely as I know my own name. But I couldn’t prove it. I knew things. Simply knew them. Without reading or learning or even hearing of them. Even then, the gift flowed through me. I tried to tell the palace doctors, but they wouldn’t listen. Chalked it up to the grief-stricken rantings of a silly young girl.
I don’t know how I would have survived those first weeks – no, months - if not for Antonius. The king’s vizier. A witty, acerbic, crafty old man. I inherited him along with the heavy, jewel-encrusted crown. The one that gave me a headache every time I had to don it for a ceremonial occasion. My father trusted Antonius, turned to him for the two things a king rarely gets – wise counsel unencumbered by a desire for personal gain, and harsh truth. He was the one man in the kingdom who had the courage to tell my father when he’d made a mistake. When he was wrong. I’ve heard Antonius call my father a stubborn ass. An idiot. A fool.
He does the same with me.
The day after the funeral, I lay curled up on my bed in a sodden heap of tears. Grief-stricken. Terrified. Unable to pull myself together enough to leave my bedchamber.
I cringed at the knock on my door.
“Sally Anne, I told you I’m not to be disturbed. Go away.”
The door opened. I snapped at her without lifting my head from where I’d cradled it in my arms. “For the last time, no I don’t want any breakfast. I don’t need a cool cloth for my forehead. I just need you to leave me alone!”
“No.”
I knew that deep voice. It wasn’t Sally Anne’s.
“Go away, Antonius,” I sobbed. “I don’t want to deal with anything today.”
“What you want doesn’t matter anymore. Get up and get dressed. You have a meeting with the High Council in less than an hour to plan your coronation.”
I shrieked and threw a pillow at him. “I’m not going! You can’t make me! It’s too cruel.”
He dodged the pillow, came over, and dragged the bedcovers off me. “Cruel? You want to talk about cruel? Cruel is leaving the fate of your people in the hands of that bunch of selfish, sanctimonious bastards. They’re just waiting for an excuse to challenge your right to rule. Acting like a helpless, grief-stricken little girl plays right into their hands.”
“I am a helpless, grief-stricken little girl,” I wailed.
He crossed his arms and glared at me. “Not today you aren’t. You’re the Queen, the supreme ruler. So, suck it up. Start acting like it. Get up and get dressed.”
“Did you just tell me to suck it up?”
I’d known Antonius since the day I was born, as my father did before me. Dark and swarthy, he had the heavy brows and beaked nose of an Arab sheik. By my reckoning, he was nearly eighty, though he seemed ageless to me. He still had a full head of black hair without a touch of gray and he exuded the power and vitality of a much younger man.
In his role as vizier, Antonius was stern. Austere. I’ve seen grown men quake when he fixes those piercing black eyes on them. Next to my father, he was the most powerful person in the land, because everyone knew he had the ear of the king. Though he came from humble beginnings, even the members of the High Council treated him with respect.
He’s not a blood relative but he always treated me the way a kindly old uncle would. Respectfully affectionate, mildly indulgent. He’d never spoken a harsh word to me before. I sat up and stared at him, my eyes wide.
“Yes. I said suck it up. You don’t have time to feel sorry for yourself. You father is dead and you’re his only heir. He’s been grooming you for this day all your life.” Antonius’s voice dropped. “We both knew it was coming. Just not so soon.”
“They murdered him, Antonius! It had to be some kind of untraceable poison. I tried to tell the doctors, but they wouldn’t listen. Father was strong and healthy. He wouldn’t have simply dropped dead.”
Antonius nodded. “Yes.”
“You believe me?”
The old man sat down on a chair by the window, facing me. His expression was one of infinite tenderness, yet I sensed a controlled fury bubbling just under the surface.
“Melisandre, I hoped I could wait a while before having this talk with you. You’re right. Your father was murdered.”
I hopped out of bed, sank to my knees in front of his chair. “We have to do something! His killer is out there. We have to find him, bring him to justice.”
Antonius shook his head. His shoulders slumped. The harsh rays of the midday sun revealed every line, every wrinkle on his face and I saw him for the first time for what he was. A tired old man weary of keeping up the pretense of strength and vitality. His king, his dearest, oldest friend, was dead. He, too, was mourning a terrible loss.
That’s the moment when I grew up. Quit thinking only of myself. Found the strength to put aside my own pain and reach out to comfort another.
I swiped away my tears and laid a hand on his. “I’m sorry for your loss, Antonius. I know you and my father were very close.”
“I loved him like a son, my lady.” His shoulders heaved with the effort of holding back a sob. I watched as he swallowed and pulled his shoulders back, marveling at the inner strength it took to put aside such a crushing burden and move on. Though only moments ago I’d thought myself a grownup, I realized I had many lessons still to learn from Antonius.
“There is no need to puzzle out your father’s killer. I know who murdered him.”
“Let’s go! You can tell the palace guards who he is. They’ll scour the kingdom day and night until we find him and put him to death for his crime.” I jumped up, ready to dash from the room, forgetting I was still in my nightdress.
He caught my hand between his. Though his skin was dry and papery, his grasp was strong as that of a man in his prime.
“It is not that simple, my lady. But I cannot explain all that you need to know. You must visit the Oracle. She will tell you of the Prophecy and the grave duty that has fallen on your shoulders.”
“Prophecy?”
“You would have learned of it soon. As every ruler for the last millennia has on their Coronation Day.” He sighed heavily. “Every sovereign has learned the terrible knowledge, taken the secret to their grave. But now it is up to you to bear the ultimate burden.”
Prophecy? Oracle? I stared at the old man. Had grief over my father’s death unhinged his mind? There were no oracles in our world. They were a myth, a legend of the past, like shape-shifters and ogres and the old belief about how people became feeble-minded. The one where evil spirits entered the bodies of hapless infants as they slumbered in their cribs and stole their souls, leaving only the shell behind.
I chose my words carefully. Nodded gravely, as though I agreed with this insanity. “Perhaps you could describe the criminal to me. Then I’ll be able to steer clear of him if our paths cross on my way to see the uh... the Oracle.”
His shrewd black eyes bored into mine. “There’s no need to humor me. I may be middle-aged, but I haven’t begun losing my mind,” he replied tartly.
Middle-aged? I bit back a retort. It was the least harmful of the delusions he seemed to be suffering from.
“You will meet the Oracle soon. She will tell you of the great evil that has slumbered for millennia. The Prophecy that says it will awaken one day to destroy the world of the Seven Stars.”
His next words sent a chill through my bones.
“You needn’t worry about crossing paths with your father’s murderer. No human hand was raised against him. He was murdered by an evil spell woven by a practitioner of necromancy. The blackest of magic. We do not need to track down your father’s killer, my lady. As I told you, I already know his identity.”
“It was the Lord of Darkness.”
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Punishing Their Mate picks up the story of Commander Cass Randall from Their Captive Mate and her newfound love affair with the alien warriors Rhynn and Rhom. The brothers take Cass home to Tharon, where they introduce her to new erotic thrills in a world filled with dominant male twins and their happily submissive female mates.
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Punishing Their Mate
A Sci-Fi Alien Dark Romance
Tharan Warrior Ménage Book Three
By Kallista Dane
Chapter One
Cass
Mmmm. A thick hard cock sliding back and forth over the lips of her pussy. Another, hot and insistent, nudging its way between the cheeks of her ass. A bolt of lust hit her like a lightning strike when she heard the distant rumble of thunder, followed by the steady drumming of rain on the roof. Life on Tharon couldn’t be more perfect.
Thunderstorms always made her horny. Not being out in them. Hearing thunderstorms when she was snug in her bed. That - and waking up between two dominating warriors. Cass opened her eyes to Rhom’s wicked grin.
“It’s about time you woke up, little human. I’ve been teasing your slit for h
ours. Getting it nice and wet for me.”
She gave him a sleepy smile. “You wore me out last night.”
Behind her, a deep voice growled in her ear. “He may have worn you out, but I haven’t even started yet.” Rhynn swept her hair aside and nipped her neck, sending a delicious shiver through her. At the same time he rocked his hips against her bottom, spreading the seductive gyron on the tip of his cock even lower along the cleft separating her rear cheeks.
“Ooo…uuuhh!” She shoved her bottom back. Her squeal became a hungry moan.
“By the Sacred Ones, I love it when I hear you make that noise.” He sank his teeth into her neck again, right below her ear, and grabbed her bottom cheeks in both hands, spreading them apart.
In front of her, Rhom frowned. He made a deep rumbling sound, seized both her wrists in one of his huge hands, and pulled her over his body, face-down.
“All right, Rhynn. Unlike you, those of us who are true Tharan warriors pride ourselves on being fair and just. I think you cheated by biting her, but you were the first to make her moan. She’s yours this morning.”
Rhom pulled her closer and captured her lips in a fierce kiss before shifting her body so her face was over his groin. “Get on your knees, little Mate, and stick that sweet bottom up in the air. I’m going to hold you right here and let you breathe in my gyron while my twin fucks your ass and makes you scream with pleasure. Then you can suck me until I shoot my cum down your throat.”
“May I suck you while he’s fucking me?”
Behind her, Rhynn gave her bottom a stern swat as Rhom answered. “Oh, no. Haven’t you learned yet that you are not in charge? We are your Masters. My brother and I love hearing the dirty things you say when we get you really hot. If my shaft is filling your mouth, you can’t beg and plead for us to do all those wicked things you secretly crave.” He tossed an arm over her back to pin her in place as Rhynn delivered more firm whacks. “Besides, I want your complete attention when you’re sucking me.”
Chaos Born: A Sci-Fi Menage Romance (Warriors of the Seven Stars Book 2) Page 14