by Tyler Chase
“Doctor Belser has given you a clean bill of health,” he said with a forced smile. “He said you can report for duty tomorrow if you feel up to it.”
The look in her hazel eyes softened, and he felt the tender warmth emanating from her. “Belser told me how you tracked down the rare chemical substances for the antidote and got them to him in time to save me. The whole time I was lying there on that gurney, I was terrified out of my mind until I heard your voice and then I knew … I knew that I’d survive the poison because you’d will me to.” She smiled. “With so many threats around me, it wouldn’t hurt to light a few candles at the temple when I’m well enough.”
He nodded. “We’ll do it together.”
She cocked a brow. “Though I think my prayers have already been answered.”
He drew back frowning.
“A guardian angel has been sent to watch over the empress,” she said, drawing a finger along his jawline. “I just happened to marry him.”
He chuckled. “Love, I’m no angel.”
“I beg to differ; even the mythic Destroyer was an angel. Every empire needs its saints and its destroyers.”
Had she suspected the true extent of what he’d done and was that her tacit approval? He’d know soon enough once the criminal investigation began and the grizzly details were revealed to the public. He leaned over and kissed her brow. “Ah, the Saint and the Destroyer, what a fine pair we make.”
Chapter 35
Vaush gathered her thoughts, steeling herself for the confrontation with General Grusonious Hrollaugr—Thalonius’ protégé and the man who’d orchestrated the abduction of Ahmed’s family. He’d come to the Lion Palace seeking the post of Imperial Inquisitor for the express purpose of investigating the Gretchen Hall massacre.
Vaush’s muscles tensed into knots and a cold chill ran through her every time the gruesome subject was raised. Vaush had watched, along with the entire Sellusion Empire, as the broadcast journalists went on in dramatic fashion, explaining how some mysterious assailants had breached the Gretchen Hall estate’s security and, within minutes, had laid waste to the entire royal household. Somehow, the surveillance devices had failed to capture any of the attack, but merely revealed the horrific aftermath.
She’d gasped in horror at the sight of the carnage, having only seen such barbaric slaughter of this scale in war-torn lands. They showed all the blood-spattered walls and bed sheets, the mattresses saturated with blood, and all the severed heads of Thalonius’ children and grandchildren! And, finally, they showed Thalonius’ hideously butchered body impaled to the wall staring out of gruesome, eyeless sockets.
Under any other circumstances, Vaush would have emphatically declared this to be the work of a psychotically, deranged madman! But, according to Yaeger and Laney, it was all Comron’s handiwork, the work of a distraught husband seeking a final solution to end the attacks on his wife.
The archivists read from the forensic report stating that the extent of force and savagery used in the attack was astonishing. Each stroke of the weapon was powerful enough to cut clean through the wall Thalonius hung upon. The sheer number of blows demonstrated the unmitigated fury and rage unleased in the attack. It was an unparalleled massacre, the likes of which House Hrollaugr had never seen.
Adding more to the macabre story that had captured the fascination of the entire empire was the fact that the empress had recently been poisoned but had survived the attack, when others who had dined to the left and the right of her had all died. The rumor mill insisted that Thalonius had been behind the poison attack and that the strike on his house had been the empress’ retribution.
But the utter lack of forensic evidence, or any eyewitness to the attack gave rise to fantastic tales. The faithful adherents claimed it was Abdinmon, the mythic Destroyer who had conducted the furious attack. Surely, the faithful claimed, God’s hand was over the empress. How else could she have withstood the poison attack when all others dropped dead around her? If the attack on house Hrollaugr was carried out by mere mortals, why hadn’t any of their images been captured by the surveillance devices? Simple, the images of the Destroyer could not be recorded by such mortal devices!
Vaush shook her head, ridding herself of the gruesome images. She took a deep breath and exhaled. “Send him in.”
The door opened and in strode the very man who hoped to bring the guilty parties to justice for the slaughter of Thalonius’ family. He was taller than her by a head and possessed a muscular yet slender build, carved by years of military service. But his flaxen hair, in the style of House Grekov, was long, swept away from his face, and straight down his back. On any other man, it might look effeminate, but on Grusonious Hrollaugr, it was regal, refined, and unmistakably masculine. He walked like a warrior prince with his head lifted arrogantly and a sure long stride that exuded power and urgency. He was the kind of man others instinctively cleared a path for.
And those eyes, those piercing blue eyes that would impale one to their spot if one were susceptible to such. The long blade of a nose and firm line of a mouth completed the sculpted features. Yes, most would consider him quite handsome until he turned to the left and one caught sight of the vicious scar extending from the corner of his eye to his ear. Vaush had marveled at it knowing that he could have easily had it removed to maintain the flawless appearance but, instead, he chose to keep it in remembrance of the woman he once called wife.
“General Grusonious Hrollaugr,” Vaush said in a magnanimous tone as she spread her hands toward him. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”
He bowed at the waist, “Your Majesty, the pleasure is all mine.” He straightened. “Thank you for granting me an audience,” his deep baritone voice rumbled through her.
“Forgive me for not arranging a meeting sooner. After all, your mother was my father’s sister, which makes us first cousins, Grusonious,” she gestured toward the settee, and gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. And we’ll forget that your ships were part of the fleet that hunted me under Thalonius’ order.
Grusonious moved forwarded and folded himself into the leather-upholstered chair across from hers. Vaush pushed back the skirts of her gown and sat. She wore matching pants beneath the open-fronted gown. A feminine look overlaying the masculine, she felt it struck a nice balance.
“So, to the matter at hand,” Vaush began. “Why would a General’s Elite, with such a decorated military past, decide to move into politics as my Chief Inquisitor?” The hint of a smile was at the corner of her lips.
His face drew taut. “You find it amusing?”
“You don’t?”
“Do you also find it amusing that your brother’s entire family was viciously butchered and the culprit hasn’t been brought to justice? I would take the post and bring them to account. Afterward, I fully intend to rejoin the ranks of the General’s Elite.”
“Ah,” she said with lifted chin. “Will you also be so diligent in bringing my would-be assassins to justice?” She inclined her head at him. “You do know that there was an attempt on my life … the empress. It’s a much bigger offense than the murder of Thalonious’ family. Wouldn’t you agree?”
His jaw twitched, and he sat ramrod stiff in the chair. “Some would say justice had been served on that count.”
“And what do you say, cousin?”
“That if the attacker had stopped at Thalonius, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation,” he said tersely. “Do you intend to give me the post or do you wish to go on protecting these criminals?”
She let her gaze set heavily upon him, let her hazel bore through his blue. “Losing the promotion to Supreme Bashar had to be quite the blow. Losing Thalonius altogether eliminates all possibilities of ever gaining it back, eh?”
His brow arched up a hair, before resuming his glare. “Don’t presume to know me, cousin.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said disarmingly, pleased by that interesting tidbit the Chronicle Archives had provided. “But I
have a feeling I should get to know you, keep you close enough to watch, so I’m not caught unawares.”
His glare intensified. She could feel the hatred rolling off him. She was almost pleased that he didn’t seem to fall under the same spell most men did when in close proximity to her. Another thing she found herself admiring in this dangerous man.
“So, I’m going to grant your wish and appoint you my interim Imperial Inquisitor. Solve the crime if you can.” She abruptly rose from her chair in a dismissive manner. “Then be on your way.”
Grusonious stood, his dark brow pinched together as he glowered over her. “Give me your word that you will not interfere with the investigation or prevent justice from being done to the culprits.”
“You have my word,” she said without batting an eyelash.
“Even when they prove to be your own men?”
She smirked. “That will be a fine trick if you can prove that.”
“Then our business here is concluded.”
She waved her hand. “You are dismissed.”
He hesitated a moment to deliver one last look of condescension, a reminder that she was of mixed blood, commoner’s blood. He gave a curt nod of the head. “Your Majesty.” He withdrew from her but before he reached the door she called out to him.
“You lay awake at night wondering how it was that I slipped through all Thalonius vast defenses and made it to Novoxos.” She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin. “We were in the cargo bay of Thalonius’ ship the whole time. He delivered me to Novoxos himself.” She turned on her heel and walked away. “Try to figure that one out.” You pompous ass.
Chapter 36
It was early evening at the Lion Palace when Vaush found herself lying in bed face to face with Comron. That he’d left work early and was in bed without a com pad, checking financial reports or the Bramech, chronicling for the next edge, told her he was growing most anxious to resume their intimacy. Since the poison attack and Gretchen Hall slaughter, he’d been tentative waiting for her signal that she was well enough and ready.
Vaush couldn’t blame him for his hesitance. She hadn’t exactly been in an amorous mood the past couple of days. Try as she may, she couldn’t eject the images of the Gretchen Hall carnage out of her mind. It wasn’t just the graphic nature of it, and that was horrifying enough, it was the fact that it had all been the work of her husband’s hands. Hands that now twitched with the desire to touch and pleasure her body. Somehow, it seems to her that there should be a period of transition, before those hands could go from butchering back to loving again.
“I’m not so certain that granting Grusonious the post of Imperial Inquisitor was the best thing to do,” she said, stalling for time with a genuine concern. Comron’s hands were gently caressing the curve of her hip. “There was such a look of dogged determination in him, like he wouldn’t let it go until he got to the bottom of it.”
“He can search from now to the end of time,” Comron answered, his tone unfocused and distracted. “He’ll find nothing.” He slid his hand underneath her silk nightshirt and a made a mildly disappointing sound. “You know I forbid you to wear these to bed,” he said teasingly as he snapped the band of her panties.
“Comron,” she said, grabbing his arm, “I’m serious, I think Grusonious could be real trouble for us. I’m going to spend more time chronicling him to find out his angle.”
“I’ve already done that, Vaush,” he said, sliding her closer to him until her body was flush with his. She could feel the hard ridge of his arousal. “He simply needs something to help him nurse his wounds over losing the top military post to Erlacher. We were very thorough at Gretchen Hall. So worry less about that and more about this,” Comron said, moving her hand to his cock.
She jerked her hand away. “Good grief, Comron. What if something was overlooked, the forensic team is still sweeping the scene as we speak.”
He exhaled heavily and turned over onto his back. “For Frithe’s sake,” he said exasperated. “Grusonious is just trying to get inside your head, and you’re letting him. Nothing he does will amount to anything because I won’t let it.”
And that’s when she felt it, her own hunger for him leap forth at his pulling away. Subconsciously, she’d wanted him to keep aggressively pursuing her and when he relented she grew … restless. In fact, for that last couple of days, she’d been short tempered and irritable. It was as if her body had been craving him all along even as her mind endeavored to suppress carnal desire in light of what had transpired. Only now she realized the truth, her body didn’t give a damn what Comron had done at Gretchen Hall, she wanted him to take her now.
Her skin felt heated as if her blood was boiling and only his touch could cool her. She breathed in deeply. His masculine sent of soap and a hint of spice enthralled her. She sat up abruptly and looked down at him.
His brow furrowed. “Vaush? Are you all right, love?”
She leapt upon him, straddling his waist as he lay beneath her, his eyes now wide with a mix of wonder and desire. When he reached for her, she grabbed his wrist and pinned his arms at either side of his head. The heady rush of adrenalin and need was intoxicating; she wanted to devour him whole. She struck at his neck, teeth sinking into skin, and she ran her tongue along his throat to the other side of his neck where she bit and sucked his flesh ravenously.
He moaned beneath her, and she felt his heart pounding excitedly. She squeezed his wrist harder as she moved to the flesh of his broad, muscular shoulders, growing more drunk on him by the second. He was like a strong drug she couldn’t get enough of or quickly enough.
“Vaush,” Comron moaned, and lifted his hips against her. His hot shaft against her backside nearly drove her out of her mind. She bit deep into his shoulder, eliciting a sharp inhalation from him. She released his arms and ran her hands over his hairy chest and down to the tight ridges of his hard abdominals. She kissed and bit him there, enraptured with the beauty of his sculpted body, determined to leave her mark on his flesh.
His hands slid beneath her silk nightshirt, up her thighs, gripping them before he took hold of her underpants and tore them off. She gasped at the feel of it as it sent a whole new wave of arousal crashing over her. She lifted her hips and slid further down his body. The tips of her breasts brushed against the thick head of his shaft as her body writhed against his.
“Please …,” he begged, breathlessly, one hand gripping her hair, the other around his cock.
She gave him a feral look of unbridled desire before dipping her head down. She started at the base of his shaft and slowly licked him to the head. She swirled her tongue around it once in demonstration of her deep hunger for it and then pulled her mouth away. For, as she’d told him on several occasions before, when he’d asked for the act, cocks as magnificent as his were built for hardcore fucking, not wasting time in someone’s mouth. Even he couldn’t argue with that.
Unable to deny herself one second longer, she moved her hips forward, grabbed his shaft and sank down onto it. Their simultaneous moan rocked her to her foundation, knowing they were both being driven mad by the sensation. As her body adjusted to his great length and girth, her inner muscles clenched around his cock, and his eyes squeezed shut as he struggled not to come before she was satisfied.
But she didn’t want his control tonight, she wanted to take him and make him completely lose himself in her. Driven by this compulsion, she rode him hard and relentlessly, her hips rolling back and forth in one fluid, continuous motion. The mere sight of it had him on the brink within seconds. His hands slid over her thighs and gripped her hips, caressing them as they did such marvelous things to him. High on her power, she arched back, lifting her tender breasts. His hands gripped them firmly and squeezed as she increased her pace, riding his cock harder.
Comron’s neck arched back as he groaned aloud unable to restrain release much longer. He moved a hand down between her legs and tried to stimulate her glistening bud. She pushed his hand away. This
time she was in control of their orgasm.
She leaned back further, intensifying the pressure as she braced herself with hands on his thighs and used essence-enhanced strength and speed to heighten their pleasure further. Comron’s throaty vocalizations grew louder as the headboard thumped the wall in time with her forceful movements.
Oh, how she’d been needing this!
Every ounce of her cried out for him, as if he’d penetrated deep into her soul, calibrating and remaking her until they were one entity joined in holy coitus. In the midst of this thought, Comron gripped her hips, arched his back up, and lifted so that his buttocks and lower back were off the bed. Vaush slid forward slightly. At that perfect angle and pressure, the tip of his cock hit deep in her primal spot, and the pleasure burst nearly shocked her senseless.
This was pure heaven!
Every time she came down and hit it, she felt a thousand tiny orgasms pulse through her until it was one continuous, prolonged sensation she felt throughout her entire body. She lost all bodily control and felt the warm spurt of feminine ejaculation escape her.
“Uhhh!” the scream ripped from her gut. Her heart pounded madly in her chest and there was a ringing sound in her ears. The throbbing pleasure point reverberated throughout her body as she endeavored to come back down from this powerful high. Already her body cried out More!
She remained straddled across Comron, bowing her head in the afterglow. This kind of pleasure, and especially her desperate need for more of it, had to be dangerous. When had this happened? When had she become addicted to Comron’s body?
When she finally opened her eyes, Comron was staring dreamily at her.
“Damn,” he said with a broad, satisfied grin. “We’ll have to argue over Grusonious more often.”
Chapter 37
Three weeks after they returned from Nethic, Comron knew that Vaush suspected he was hatching some sort of plot with Yaeger but, from the look on her face when he led her to the holding cells beneath the Lion Palace, he knew this was the last thing she expected to find.