TWISTED (Eternal Guardians Book 7)

by Elisabeth Naughton

  “The salve trapped infection in your wound,” she said, probing the edges of the cut on his back much as she’d done the one on his thigh. “I’ve no doubt you’d have healed fine without it. This one wasn’t as bad, but the injury on your thigh needed to be reopened.”

  “What was in the salve?” He wanted to keep her talking. If she was volunteering information, he was going to use it.

  “Healing herbs that sealed your wounds.”

  And…?

  “And,” she went on as if she’d heard his thought, “a chemical to enhance your reaction.”

  That explained the heat. And the fact he’d been instantly hard even though those nymphs hadn’t interested him in the least. It also explained how they’d been able to hold him on the edge of release for hours.

  Orgasm denial was an effective torture technique. Zagreus obviously hadn’t been able to break him physically, so he was trying to break him sexually. Nick had only been through one session, but just that one had been worse than all the physical shit he’d been subjected to in the six months he’d been there. He wasn’t sure how he’d make it through months of this kind of torture without losing his mind, especially when just looking at Cynna—just smelling her wild scent and knowing she was watching—made him instantly hard, jump-starting each session and making it all that much easier for the nymphs.

  Her fingers moved from the wound on his back to his spine, then gently traced a line to the top of his low-slung drawstring pants, forcing another shiver to rack his body. “You have many scars. Scars that were here long before Zagreus brought you to this place. I’ve seen these before. Or ones like them. Where did you get them?”

  Shock registered. That she’d noticed. That she was asking. An answer hovered on the tip of his tongue, but he held it back, unsure what she was looking for. Even though she hadn’t done anything to torment him—yet—he knew full well there were other ways to torture a prisoner. Mental ways that would fuck with his head. And though she was totally hot and every part of him desperately wanted her touch, he wasn’t about to give her any advantage.

  He didn’t answer, and in the silence, she trailed her hands back up to his neck, then to his jawbone. And then very gently, she skimmed her fingers over the jagged scar that ran across his left cheek and ended near the corner of his mouth.

  He stiffened. His pulse beat hard in the silence.

  “Scars are tattoos with darker histories,” she said quietly, tracing the uneven skin to the edge of his lips. “I wonder what this one would say if it could speak.”

  He waited for her to ask. Waited for more, but it never came. Sighing, she lifted her hand from his face and set it back on his shoulder, then her fingers gently brushed his back again in a languid, sensual way that made the hairs on his skin stand at attention and another shiver ripple down his spine.

  “Your constant defiance frustrates Zagreus,” she said. “He senses you’re growing stronger. He’s going to double his efforts soon.”

  Frustrating the shit-for-brains Zagreus was the only pleasure Nick got anymore. He scoffed. “I think he already doubled his efforts yesterday.”

  Her hands skimmed across his shoulders, and gods, that felt good, like she was tickling his skin. He fought from closing his eyes and relaxing into the wicked sensations running up and down his spine.

  “Yesterday was only a sampling of what he has planned for you. The females he’s trapped here are Maenad nymphs, trained by the god Dionysus. They thrive on sexual energy. He will use them on you again and again until you can’t take it anymore.”

  So the nymphs weren’t willing participants either, just as Nick had guessed. They were prisoners too, being forced to do something they probably didn’t want to do but couldn’t stop once they got going.

  Like Cynna?

  Her touch made his mind skip to what she was doing now. And that made him think of what he’d endured.

  Death by sex. Though Nick liked sex as much as the next guy and had plenty of his own dark desires—most centering around Cynna these days—the thought of being tortured like that, by those females, turned his stomach.

  Her hands slid under his arms and around his ribs until they rested against his chest. Then she moved closer, her heat seeping into his back, her succulent breasts pressing against his spine, her lean hips cradling his ass. And feeling her so close shut down his brain function, brought his full attention to where she touched him, pushed aside every other thought. His pulse picked up speed, and heat shot from beneath her hands, to his belly and straight into his groin, making him even thicker and harder.

  “He wants you to break,” she whispered close to his ear. The fingers of her right hand slid lower until they grazed his nipple. His cock jumped, and his stomach caved in as electricity arced from the spot and ricocheted into his balls. “He’s waiting for you to break so he can have what’s inside you.”

  Her fingers rolled his nipple into a stiff peak, and Nick bit his lip and fought from groaning at the erotic thrill. He knew Zagreus was waiting for him to somehow give in so he could harness the powers Krónos had hidden in him for safekeeping, but Nick didn’t know how Zagreus planned to do that, or what it would entail.

  He opened his mouth to ask, but Cynna trailed her other hand to his opposite nipple, twisting and pinching in the same way, distracting him from his question. Pain mixed with pleasure to send a burst of carnal desire all through his body. Instinctively, he rocked his hips forward, wanting resistance there, wanting her touch lower.

  Her breath caught. It was so subtle he almost didn’t hear it. But it was enough to keep him from giving in. From letting go the way his body wanted.

  She scraped her nails across his nipple, sending sparks of pleasure-pain across his skin, and he bit his lip. Against his ear, her warm breath radiated, causing more tiny tremors to ripple through his limbs. “You can’t let that happen. No matter what he wants, don’t give it to him.”

  Give in…don’t give in… She was sending mixed messages, telling him one thing one day and another the next. He tried to make sense of what she was doing but couldn’t because the haze of arousal was clouding everything, especially his ability to think.

  She’s fucking with your head. Zagreus sent her. Don’t fall for her games. Stay in control.

  He ground his teeth against her wicked fingers continuing to tease and torment his oversensitized nipples. Worked like hell not to lose himself in what she was doing to his body. “When you were here with the nymphs, you told me I couldn’t hold out. That it was only a matter of time. Why the change of heart?”

  “I told you what he wanted you to hear. He was watching.”

  And Zagreus wasn’t watching now? Nick wasn’t sure he believed that. The fucker always seemed to know what was happening in his lair.

  “Why are you telling me all this?”

  Her fingers stilled against his nipples. “Because your defiance gives others hope. And hope is something many here have lived too long without.”

  Her words were so quiet, such a subtle whisper, he almost missed them. But they were real. Echoing in his head, radiating down through his chest, awakening something inside him he thought had died. And though he didn’t want to believe it, an ominous feeling in his gut told him that hope she talked about wasn’t for others, but for her.

  A thousand questions raced through his mind—who she really was, how she’d ended up in this hellhole, what the fuck she was doing with Zagreus—but every single one came to a screeching halt when those tantalizing fingers started moving south, over his abs, heading for the edge of his thin cotton pants.

  He sucked in a breath and held it. Heat gathered beneath her fingers, seeping into the skin of his lower belly, ratcheting his arousal up another sinful notch. Finally, she reached the drawstring at his waistband, found one end, and pulled.

  Every ounce of blood in his body seemed to pool in his groin. His cock throbbed, aching to be touched. His stomach caved in. His breaths grew fast and shallow as she tugg
ed the tie free, then slowly eased her hand inside, sliding her tantalizing fingers beneath the cotton, then lower until the very tips grazed the base of his cock.

  His teeth sank into his bottom lip, and he gripped the chains tightly over his head so he wouldn’t moan. But it didn’t stop her. The tiny gasp behind him caused his cock to twitch against her fingers.

  The hand at his chest dropped to his hips, pushing his pants lower, freeing his erection. But instead of grasping him as he wanted, she let go and pulled her hands back. Something clicked in the silence.

  He tensed, unsure what she had planned next. Then her hands returned. She wrapped her long, slim fingers around his cock and squeezed. Only this time they were slick. And he realized—holy fuck—she’d coated her palm with lube.

  His eyes fell closed, and though he knew he shouldn’t, he couldn’t stop his hips from flexing forward, pushing his shaft into her tight, wet grip.

  “So hard,” she whispered, trailing the fingers of her other hand back up to twist and tease his nipple once more. “You ache for release, don’t you, warrior?”

  Gods, yes, he did. Right now it was all he could think about. She loosened her grip, slid her hand up to the tip, then back down to the base, and the sensation was so erotic, so hot, Nick’s balls contracted, and he rocked into her hand again, wanting her to move faster, needing her to drive him to the edge, even though somewhere in the back of his head he knew she wouldn’t take him over.

  She stroked him again, base to tip, then hesitated and spread the tiny bit of fluid that had leaked free from the tip up and under the flared head to the taut gathering of nerve endings below. His whole body trembled.

  “So big,” she whispered in that seductive, sexy, dominatrix voice right in his ear, closing her hand around him once more. “Zagreus hates you for that too.” She trailed her hand low again, squeezed the base, then slid her fingers higher, pumping him gently, making his cock swell even more. The heat of her pelvis pressed against his ass, driving him completely mad. “The females here all fantasize about this. About seeing you come. There’s power in sex. Power in giving it, power in releasing it. Zagreus is afraid for you to have that power.”

  Nick didn’t give a fuck about Zagreus. All he could focus on was the slick glide of her hand, moving faster, using long, tight strokes that were making him absolutely wild. He groaned, couldn’t stop from pushing into her grip, felt his release barreling so utterly close.

  Just a little more…

  He thrust forward again and again, couldn’t let her stop. Burned hotter than he had in…forever.

  More, more, more…

  “Yes, that’s it.” The hand at his nipple pinched hard, then released. And then he felt her silky fingers close around his balls and squeeze. “Come, warrior. Come right now. For me.”

  The orgasm shot down his spine, detonated in his balls, and exploded through his cock, robbing him of sight, of sound, of breath. Hot jets coated her hand, but she didn’t stop stroking his length, didn’t stop pumping even as his body twitched and shook with the power of his release. It had been so long—months and months of frustration—and she was drawing it all out, milking him of every drop, not letting go until there was nothing left.

  His body trembled. Every muscle felt weak and spent. If it weren’t for the chains, he would have collapsed, he was sure of it. Finally, she slowed her strokes, but against his ear, her warm, sinful breath radiated, sending tiny tremors up and down his spine, reminding him he wasn’t alone, that he wasn’t in control, that she held the power.

  Gently, she let go of him and stepped back. Cool air washed over his sweat-dampened spine, replacing her sultry heat, and brushed his sensitive cock, making him shiver.

  She crossed the floor and reached into the bag she’d set by the door. Nick couldn’t see what she was doing, but in the silence, his brain slowly started to click back into gear.

  He was suddenly more vulnerable than he’d ever been. If she wanted to hurt him, to torture him, right now he wouldn’t be able to mentally or physically prepare himself. He tensed, tried to straighten in his chains, tried to pull himself together, but his body wasn’t listening yet. The orgasm had completely wrecked him and was still pulsing through every cell and muscle.

  She moved back to him, reached for the bottle she’d set on the floor, then lifted the water back to his lips. “Drink.”

  He opened his mouth and swallowed the cool, refreshing liquid, keeping his eyes locked on hers, unsure what she had planned next. In her hand, she held something, something he couldn’t quite see.

  “Good. That’s enough.”

  She lowered the bottle, then poured the water over the object in her hand. And then, with her dark eyes locked on his, she stepped close. Seconds later, cool, wet cotton brushed over his sensitive cock, and he jerked.

  Her gaze flicked down, to where she was cleaning the last remnants of his release from his body. Even though he was spent, blood still pooled in his groin with every brush of her fingers. If she noticed, she didn’t show it, just went about what she was doing in a methodical, almost clinical way. Without a word, she tucked him back into his pants, and tied them at his waist.

  His brain was having trouble catching up. He kept waiting for her to lash out, to do something aggressive, to punish him in some way, but she didn’t. After tying his pants, she tossed the rag in her bag, then pushed the button near the wall. The motor in the ceiling hummed, and slack reformed in his chains, dropping his arms to his sides. He groaned at the ache in his muscles, tried to hold himself up, but his legs were weak, and he listened to his body and sank to the floor against the wall. Reaching for her bag from the floor, she slung it over her shoulder, then slid a small key into the lock on the door.

  “Rest while you can,” she said without turning. “And drink.”

  His gaze flicked to the water bottle she’d left within his reach, then back to her. Torchlight fell over her, highlighting blonde hair he knew wasn’t her real color, making her skin seem even darker. “I’ve no idea what time they’ll come for you tomorrow.”

  She pulled the cell door open. Metal groaned. And his chest pinched when he realized she was leaving. After not punishing him like he’d expected, but pleasuring him.

  “Why?”

  It was the only word he could get out. His throat was thick, his brain still foggy, but none of this—none of what she’d done last night when she’d tended his wound or tonight when she’d brought him to a blistering climax—made sense.

  She hesitated, one hand on the door handle, then turned her head back into the room, just enough so he could see the supple line of her jaw and the plump perfection of her lips. But she didn’t meet his eyes. And as it had before, that feeling that she was as much a prisoner as he slammed into him.

  Which would be worse? To be tortured? Or to be forced to torture others and live with the knowledge of what you’ve done day after day after miserable day?

  “Because I’m not the monster Zagreus is,” she whispered. “Not yet, anyway.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Cynna was shaking by the time she made it back to her room.

  She dropped the bag on the floor, closed the door with a snap, and leaned back against the cool wood, gasping for air.

  What she’d just done… It went against everything Zagreus had commanded her to do. She lifted a trembling hand to her forehead and stopped. Nick’s scent was all over her. Her body hummed with sexual excitement and her own need for release. Watching Nick’s body shake, feeling the power of his orgasm rocket through her hand… She could only imagine what that would taste like in her mouth. What it would feel like spreading through her own body.

  She lowered her hand and drew in a deep breath. She had to get his scent off her. She couldn’t keep smelling it, couldn’t keep wanting. Because wanting in this place was as dangerous as hope.

  She rushed into her bathroom, didn’t bother with the light. When she reached the sink, she flipped on the water and scrubbed her
hands with soap beneath the stream. It didn’t help. She could still smell him on her clothes, on her skin where she’d pressed up against his back. The only way to get rid of him was to shower. To get naked. To—

  “That was… How should I put this?” a male voice said at her back. “Interesting, agapi.”

  A cold gust whooshed through Cynna, bringing every thought and need and want to a bone-chilling halt.

  Her hands shook again as she flipped off the water, but this time not from arousal. This time true fear quaked in her muscles as she turned to face Zagreus.

  He leaned against the doorway to her bedroom, his body relaxed, his arms crossed over his chest. But his eyes… They blazed with a fury she knew he was about to unleash.

  She swallowed hard as he pushed away from the wall, as he ambled toward her, all coiled muscle and simmering power she knew could grind her into dust, and stopped directly in front of her. He leaned down, close to her ear, the heat of his body making her skin twitch, and drew in a deep whiff. “You smell of my uncle.”

  Her eyes slid closed at the sound of his snarled words, and her heart pounded hard in her chest. She’d let herself forget that very small fact. As Krónos’s bastard son, that made Nick Hades’s half brother and Zagreus’s uncle. And even though Nick had yet to unleash those powers his father had hidden inside him, when he did, Nick would one day be more powerful than Zagreus, a reality the god at her front never forgot.

  “You wound me, agapi.”

  Skata, this was it. He was going to kill her. Right here. Right now. He was not a god who gave second chances, but surprisingly… She didn’t want one.

  The knowledge caused her pulse to slow, pushed the cold outward from the center of her chest. Yeah, she might die, but she didn’t care anymore. Because at least she’d done one selfless thing in this hellhole. When Nick had thanked her the other night, she’d known she hadn’t deserved it, but tonight… Tonight she’d given him a tiny piece of pleasure in the middle of an endless misery while she’d taken nothing for herself. And for that she could be proud. Proud because even if she spent all eternity in the fire of Hades’s hell paying for all the awful things she’d done in life, at least she’d go knowing her soul wasn’t completely black. Not like Zagreus’s.