by Tigris Eden
A plate was brought out and set in front of Bael. No plate for her. Not that she knew at all what was on his plate. It looked like some kind of meat and vegetables with bread. But she wasn’t going to guess what type of meat he was eating. A goblet of something red, what she assumed to be wine—or at least hoped it was—was placed in front of her.
Bael leaned over and instructed, “You are to feed me and bring the cup to my lips. Once I’ve had my fill, I will then allow you to eat.”
He could not be serious.
But she found that he was as he waited for her to serve him. His head bent forward, his eyes locked on her the entire time as she begrudgingly brought the cup to his lips. This went on for a moment as the servers continued to fill his plate more than once before he let out a deep sigh. Abrihet had been so busy feeding him and offering him drink, she’d not realized that the entire hall had gone quiet.
“They stare at you with hate in their eyes. Look at them,” the one called Brenna said as she took a sip from her goblet.
“Who cares?”
“You should. It is because of you that my brother may lose his throne. You should leave.”
“I was told I couldn’t.”
Brenna leaned over as Bael turned and said something to his father. Had he not heard their side conversation? He must not have because Abrihet knew he would be pissed if he’d listened in on what his sister had said.
“I can help you get out of here.”
Brenna had Abrihet’s full attention now.
“You can?”
Brenna gave a subtle nod and then jerked her head in the direction of her brother. When Abrihet turned, Bael was there, with food.
“You need to eat.” His voice was low with a slight rumble to it. Abrihet turned her head toward the fork that held some sort of meat. “It’s beef. I had one of the servants make it for you. I tried it first to ensure that it was acceptable. I find that it is.”
There was a hint of something in his eyes that she couldn’t read, but she wasn’t about to question it. Brenna had said she could get her out of this place. All she had to do was play nice. This time tomorrow, she might not even be here. Abrihet took the tines of the fork into her mouth and almost hummed. The meat was tender. It was perfect. She didn’t know what they’d seasoned it with, but it worked.
“Thank you, Bael.”
He gave a curt nod of his head and went back to the almost empty plate to feed her more. Everyone in the dining hall watched as she ate from his hand. It made her uneasy as they stared, but it also did something else. Something she wasn’t ready to put a name to. This was the first time he’d shown any kind of care. She suddenly realized that eating from his hand was an intimate gesture, and Brenna confirmed it moments later when Bael turned to say something to Braxus.
“My brother honors you by feeding you. It is not something even the most seasoned warriors do with their mates. That he does it out in the open is his way of making a statement.”
Abrihet was not about to dig into that. She just wanted to know when she was getting out of this place.
“How soon before we can leave?”
“Three days. It will take me that much time to get you an escort.” Brenna went back to eating, and Abrihet turned to face Bael, who was still speaking with his father. She wasn’t going to ask for more food. She figured he’d feed her when he thought she was ready. Which was total bullshit, but she’d bite her tongue and wait it out. As she looked out at the others in the dining hall, she realized that no one else was doing what Bael did. But there were some females looking on with envy. Really? They like this?
Abrihet was too independent to eat from a man’s hand. There was nothing remotely alluring about dining from his hand. Okay, maybe a little. She wouldn’t mind if it were someone she actually liked. She didn’t like Bael. He kept her prisoner. But if you weren’t his prisoner, then what? Then she’d have to address the obvious. He was a demon. The two of them made no sense, and why was she making concessions? It was a moot point. She was leaving in three days.
Bael continued to feed her and offer her the goblet, which the servants filled with something that tasted like grape juice but with a kick. When they’d finished eating, Bael took her by the hand instead of the arm. He’d been practically dragging her everywhere; now, they walked hand-in-hand down the row of tables with others looking on.
“The servants will bathe you, and I shall join you in our room.”
Abrihet nodded. She wasn’t going to argue. She looked back at Brenna as they walked away, and the demoness nodded her head. Abrihet hoped that meant something. She had three more days. That was it. Three days and then she was going back home.
Chapter 7
Abrihet had no idea where they were going, but as they walked down the hall, she took in the sights and sounds. She catalogued everything. The ornate wall fixtures to the paintings on the ceiling. It was like she’d traveled back in time to some long-forgotten century where kings and queens and their court ruled. Only now, she was walking among Fire Demons. This time as they walked the halls, no one said a word--but they did all bow. A child even smiled at her.
“Have they never seen a human before?” she asked.
“You are not human, Abrihet. You are half-Terran, yes, but your other half is demon. The sooner you accept that, the better off you’ll be. For instance, the reason you’re not overly feisty is because I use your true name.
“Are we going back to that again?”
“Yes. Others in Terra called you Abri, I address you as Abrihet. When a demon’s true name is used, they bond in some way to the one who calls them that. I am the only one to use yours. My father won’t, and neither will the others. Only I shall call you Abrihet.”
She hadn’t noticed that. She didn’t know the first thing about demons and their ways. And you won’t have to, except to steer clear of them.
“But your brother Baylor, and your father Braxus.”
“Those are deviations of their true names.”
“And your true name?”
Bael stopped in front of an ornate door with carved creatures. Some looked like animals, while others were half-man, half-animal. She could see a kind of darkness behind Bael’s eyes as he watched her carefully. The vein on the side of his neck pulsed a little as he pulled in a breath.
“If I were to give you my true name, and you were to say it, it would bond us together. And although I plan for that to happen, I want it to be natural and borne of need, not power.” Bael dipped his head lower, and inhaled sharply. It was the first time she’d been this close to him since the fire. At this distance, she could feel the warmth from his body, the glide of his feathers as his shoulders lifted with each breath. Bael brought his face so close to hers, their lips almost touched as he rumbled, “Raktuves, Luxa.” The temperature around them rose to an almost unbearable heat, but Abrihet found that it was comforting. Her body swayed and almost hit the door, but she caught herself at the last minute by grabbing hold of Bael’s arms.
“Yeah, now do you feel it?” he asked.
She sure as hell did, but what she was feeling, she couldn’t describe. There was some sort of invisible string tied tightly behind her ribcage, and when he pulled, she followed. Eyes wide, she looked up at Bael, who wore a smug smile on his face.
“This is insane.”
“I said the exact same thing, Abrihet. Now, bathe. I will await you in our rooms.” He pushed open the door, and the women who had waited on her were there with washcloths and what looked to be a different set of clothing. Bael closed the door, leaving her behind with the women.
The women bathed her without saying a word. They were on autopilot. This time, she had the pleasure of sitting in an actual bath. They scrubbed her from head to toe. When they were finished, they unbraided her hair and then redid it into twists before applying something that smelled remarkable it also sparkled. Like glitter. One of the women placed it on her lips, and when Abrihet licked it, she thought for sure they were preparing her t
o feasted on. The stuff tasted amazing.
“What is this for?” she asked in their tongue, but got no response. The women who’d applied the mixture to her lips replaced it and shook her head when Abrihet went to wipe it from her mouth again with a swipe of her tongue. “Tell me what it is, or I’ll just keep eating it.”
“Karaliene, you are not to taste, not until bed. Please, he would be angry if he found out you’ve taken it from your lips. It is forbidden.”
“Why?”
“Only he can remove it,” another said. All three women nodded their heads frantically. Okay, so she wasn’t supposed to eat the sparkly shit that tasted amazing. She couldn’t put her finger on what the flavor was because it was something she’d never experienced before. There wasn’t anything she could even compare it to. But the stuff was like crack. One lick and she wanted more.
“What is it called?”
“It is his Būtība.”
“Būtība?” What the heck was that?
“It is a salve that will ensure your night with the Mērjoslu is enjoyable.”
Enjoyable? She wasn’t about to get down and dirty with Bael. Hell no.
“That can’t happen.”
“It must. Tomorrow, he faces Baylor, and because a challenge has been issued, it is expected of you to give strength to Bael. He is a warrior, and all warriors draw strength from their light. You are his Luxa. You must assist. Otherwise, he may not be able to best Baylor. And should Baylor sit on the throne, things will not be good for those of us who are not Incaendium.”
These people weren’t her responsibility. She wanted to go home, not live in hell, and she wasn’t having any type of sex with Bael. Nope, not gonna happen. No matter how inviting it sounded. What? Abrihet ignored the signs her body was throwing out at the thought of Bael. She was going home in three days, end of story. But if he loses the fight tomorrow, then you’re dead. Was she?
“If Bael loses tomorrow, what will happen to me?”
One of the women looked over at Abrihet with horror. “You will be killed. Baylor doesn’t like Nefas. But before he kills you, he may use you, torturing you while doing it. He’s known for that, and his mate, Xyle, is even worse than he is.”
Abrihet didn’t like the sound of any of that. Guess you’re getting it on with a demon. A demon that wasn’t bad to look at, sure, but still…a demon.
When the women were finished dressing her, Bael was at the door, waiting. He was no longer in his kilt, but in sweatpants. He was still shirtless, and his feet were bare. Though he looked like her neighbor Bael and not the demon Bael. She found she preferred demon Bael. Odd.
He didn’t speak to her, but took her hand and led her down another hall. She knew what was happening, and although she shouldn’t want to do anything of the sort, she found she was anxious. Excited.
Abrihet, focus. Three days. You only have to endure for three days. Then you’re out.
She hoped she lasted that long.
Chapter 8
She was nervous. Bael wasn’t. He was confident as he strode up to a pair of ornate double doors with a stone carving depicting some epic battle between demons and what looked to be gargoyles. The golden handles of the doors were polished, and Abrihet swore she could see her reflection in them. Bael pulled, and even for a big guy, he labored as he tugged them wide. The entire room had gold crown molding. More pictures grace the ceiling. Abrihet was no history buff, but these rooms looked just like the king’s quarters in Versailles. Maybe not exactly, but close enough.
“This is our room.”
Abrihet walked inside. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. She looked around and whistled.
“Ours?”
“Yes,” Bael said harshly. “Is it not to your liking?”
Now he wanted to know if she liked their living arrangement?
“I didn’t say that. It’s just a lot of space.”
There was a large window with thick curtains. She could tell by the chairs and tables they stood in the seating area. There were three closed doors.
“What’s in those?” She pointed towards the doors.
“My armor is behind the door on the right, and the other two rooms are for when I entertain company.”
“Where is the bed?”
His eyes rose at that, and he let go of her hand and walked her over to a wall. Or at least she thought it was a wall. “Our bed is a place of security. Of oneness. Hidden to those who are unworthy. Which would be anyone who isn’t you or me.”
She wasn’t about to tell him she couldn’t see the bed because that would mean she wasn’t worthy, and she had a feeling that wouldn’t be a good thing. Especially since she was about to make it with a demon.
Oh dear God, my brother is going to kill me she thought as she walked toward the wall. As she got closer, the plaster seemed to dissolve. When it cleared, she was able to see a large bed. It looked like any other bed she’d see back on Earth with one exception: it could sleep like twelve people, maybe more.
Abrihet could feel the heat of Bael at her back, as his hands came to rest tentatively on her shoulder as he spoke roughly into her ear.
“You wear my Būtība.” He took a tentative lick and groaned.
The heat from his tongue had her limbs weak. But she wasn’t attracted to human-looking Bael, no, her sick and twisted mind saw the demon when she thought of what turned her on. His dark skin and midnight-black wings. Even his horns were attractive. There was something very masculine and virile about the way his true form looked. She’d always thought his human form looked like a warrior of old, but in his demon form, he was a warrior. Honed for battle and…dear God, sex.
Yup, she was officially suffering from some sort of Stockholm Syndrome. That had to be the reason she had these thoughts. She wasn’t going to accept any other reasoning. A captured prisoner. Abducted. He saved you from the fire. No, that was coincidence. But still Abrihet turned in his arms and looked up at him as she said, “I want to see you. The real you.”
Bael’s head tilted down to watch her face. He looked for a few moments before stepping back and doing as she asked. One moment, he was the human Bael; and the next, he was the demon Bael. Amber eyes alight with fire, dark, reddish-brown skin packed tightly over hard muscles. His hair was down in waves around his shoulders, and his black horns protruding out with a slight curve looked almost like black crystal.
“Yours are different from the others,” she noted as she reached up and touched one horn. Bael let out a deep moan as he gripped her around the waist and brought her close.
“Yes, I am heir to the throne. Females’ curve down, warriors’ are like mine but will not have the curve, and the rest are different variations of the same. But only mine and my father’s will look like this.”
Interesting.
When he brought her closer, Abrihet’s body tensed and her eyes flew to his. “Okay,” she said softly, not wanting to come off as rude. Bael released her and stepped back. He loosened the drawstring on his sweats, and moved his hands t to his waist.
Shit.
Abrihet took a step back. He was definitely done with talking if the tent in his pants was any indication. “Can we chat first?”
His eyes dipped to her lips, and he calmly stepped forward, making her move back. Right to the edge of the bed. The look in his eyes said it all, and now he was completely nude. His sweats gone, his body was on display for her to see. Everything on him was huge. His arms, legs, the length of his cock as it jutted proudly between his legs. There was no way any of that was getting near any of her.
“Please,” she begged on a whisper. “We really need to talk this through. I know why this is happening, and I’m not saying I get it, because I don’t, but can’t we at least talk about it?”
Bael still said nothing as he moved closer, making Abrihet hop up on the huge bed until she was scooting toward the middle. That was a mistake because his arm snaked out so fast, she barely saw him move as his fingers grabbed hold of her
wrist pulling her beneath him. She tipped her head back to look in his dark eyes that were staring down at her. He shifted his torso and she had no choice but to open her legs and allow his body to fall forward, giving her his weight.
Winded and slightly lightheaded from all the panicked breathing she was doing, Abrihet tried to gain control. Panicked, right… She arched her back, trying to get up from under him, but it was useless. Horny Bael wasn’t someone she could reason with. But as he stared at her, something happened. His body tightened, and hers softened. He looked to where her hands had dug into his shoulders, and Abrihet let out a small gasp. She’d drawn blood. Bael’s head whipped to hers, and he smiled. Widely. Showing fang. He liked her mark on him, and fuck, why did she think that was hot?
One hand went to her face where he held her steady, his free hand slid along the cloth at her belly as his mouth went to her neck and he licked. “Abrihet,” he muttered. His fingers fisted the material in his hand, and he moved it up, exposing her skin.
Abrihet froze.
“Luxa,” he said this time against her neck as he took another long, slow lick. His hand slid in between her legs, and if she hadn’t gone completely quiet, she would have missed the hitch in his breath as his fingers slid between her thighs. His touch was seeking, soft, gentle even as he glided his fingers feather-light over her clit.
Damn, but it felt good. Too good.
“Bael,” she whispered.
He responded by circling his finger around her bundle of nerves, causing her to shiver as moisture gathered at her core. He was turning her on, building her up, and he was fucking great at it.
“Please,” Abrihet begged. She didn’t want him to stop, not now.
“Please what?” he murmured against her jaw. He was still licking her, tasting the salve the women applied on her. The female servants had said that the salve would be good for her, but she didn’t see how; she hadn’t tasted any of it since they’d reapplied it to her lips. Abrihet turned toward his mouth. Bael didn’t disappoint when he took his first taste. The kiss started off sweet, could have even been called passionate as his hand dipped into her heat, a touch that had her crying out into their kiss.