Steel and Promise

by Alexa Black

  “You have no reason not to believe me,” Teran snarled. Her other hand reached down and tore a hole in the black fabric over her groin.

  “Besides, why should I use some fool in a terrorist organization, when I could have a beautiful, trained woman instead?”

  Cailyn swallowed hard. Teran pulled her head toward her exposed vulva. “Come on, little one. You know me better than this.”

  She released Cailyn’s hair and traced her hand along Cailyn’s cheek. “The only pain I want is yours.”

  Cailyn’s flesh tingled. I want you, too, Teran Nivrai, she thought as those hands drew her toward the warm flesh. I shouldn’t, but I do. She reached out her arms, wrapping them around Teran’s body.

  She opened her mouth, drinking in Teran’s wetness with her lips and tongue. Heat surged through her as the hand around her head tightened. Its grip crushed her against the warm flesh.

  She abandoned herself to it, her head moving in time to Teran’s soft growls of encouragement and pleasure. Teran shifted to allow her better access. She gripped Teran’s hips.

  Teran moaned as her body locked. Cailyn pushed her down hard, holding her there as she reached release.

  “So you do trust me.”

  Cailyn smiled. “Maybe not, my lady. But I want to.”

  “That’s good enough for now, my little one,” Teran said, her hand still wrapped around the back of Cailyn’s head.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cailyn got the videocall the next morning. She had never heard from Lord Keriel before. Now, the day after the meeting, here he was, demanding she see him. She felt sure she knew the reason why.

  The thought bothered her. Serving Teran while the intrigue swirled around her was quite enough for Cailyn already. She sighed and moved her fingers down to the smooth metal of the collar at her throat. It was warm from contact with her skin.

  Keriel had given Teran the suit.

  Or so Teran said.

  If it was true, it meant that he wanted to see her torture someone. She didn’t want to do it; he wanted to make her. But if even the dark channels made him queasy, why would he do this? The safety of the nobles, as Liana had said, or something else?

  Lady Liana hadn’t seemed to care much about giving Teran the job either. But Ben Keriel knew more about her than Lady Liana did. He would know that she protected the people she tortured.

  Or some of them, anyway. Cailyn slid her fingers lower, down to the mark on her chest. Teran had torn up Cailyn’s dress, laughed, and called it ugly.

  Could Cailyn really expect better from a woman who scorned everyone?

  You look lovely. A gem in a world of stones.

  Lady Nivrai had, by her own admission, treated Cailyn uniquely. She had pampered Cailyn, giving her pleasure, coaxing her with sensual touch. Would she bother to do that with someone who had always loved pain?

  Had she ever told anyone else about Mariel? Cailyn had drawn the confession out of her just the same as she had drawn pleasure.

  Cailyn sighed, remembering their first encounter. When she came, she’d gasped like she was crying. Cailyn wanted that. To be a balm for some of the grief.

  But now Teran was making it so hard. Tearing up her dresses. Mocking her tastes. Acting entirely too willing to do awful things.

  And she hated Lord Keriel.

  Cailyn’s chest throbbed. It ached, but still she felt an answering hum between her legs. She wanted to believe Teran.

  The only pain I want is yours.

  She ran her fingers over the scrape on her chest. Touching it sent flares through her nerves. The small, effervescent burn made her think of sex. The feeling of Teran’s fingers inside her, stretching her wide, exploring hidden places.

  And hurting her, when she least expected it.

  The only pain I want…

  She let her hand fall and turned back to the computer in front of her. Why was this so hard?

  The videoscreen beeped. She stared at the thin, red-haired face looking at her. What was he up to?

  What was Teran up to?

  She sighed and tapped the screen.

  *

  Cailyn’s door slid open. She tapped the screen again and let Lord Keriel’s face fade into blackness.

  A hand gripped her shoulder. She tensed.

  “Little one.”

  Cailyn turned her head. “My lady?”

  In her other hand, Teran held a length of folded fabric. Bright and green.

  “My dress,” Cailyn whispered.

  Teran lifted it up and let it fall. The rip Teran had torn in it was gone. Only a tiny wrinkle at one shoulder gave any evidence that the fabric had been damaged.

  Teran ran a hand over the soft fabric of the dress. “Yes,” she said. “Mended.”

  Cailyn swallowed hard. She reached out to touch the strap that Teran’s claws had torn. She could feel a slight groove where the fabric had been sewn.

  “This comes from a part of your life that doesn’t involve me,” Teran said. She reached out to touch Cailyn’s face. “I shouldn’t have meddled in it.”

  She laid the dress down on the desk in front of Cailyn, her movements slow and careful. Like the dress was precious and fragile. Like she needed to protect it.

  “Thank you, my lady,” Cailyn stammered. Just what did this portend?

  Teran let out a breath. She wrapped her hand around Cailyn’s chin. “I want you to trust me, little one.”

  Cailyn let herself smile. “Is that because my trust is important to you, or because it serves your ends?”

  “It does serve my ends.” Long fingers wrapped around Cailyn’s chin and stroked her cheek. “But that’s not all.”

  “You expect me to believe you after all this?”

  Teran’s head drooped. “No, little one. I wouldn’t if I were you. But I hope you will, all the same.”

  She nibbled at the skin of Cailyn’s neck. “Surely you’ve noticed that I’m fond of you.”

  Cailyn bit back a moan. “Yes.”

  “Do you think that I rub ointment on everyone who comes to me?”

  “But that—that’s part of what we do together, my lady.”

  Teran’s lips brushed her cheek. “Don’t you remember our first meeting? You were surprised I did it back then.”

  Cailyn’s brow knit as she tried to remember. That seemed so long ago.

  “I did it on a whim at first.” Teran kissed her, her long fingers coaxing Cailyn into turning her head. Cailyn followed the direction but didn’t return the kiss.

  “Actually, I quite enjoyed it,” Teran went on. “Then, when you came back again, I figured I might as well do it again.”

  One of Teran’s hands moved to Cailyn’s blouse, tracing patterns along the smooth fabric. The fingers slid over Cailyn’s nipple until it hardened beneath the cloth.

  Her other hand moved to Cailyn’s neck and tapped at the metal circling it. She kissed Cailyn’s mouth again. “I want things between us to be like they were before all of this. A matter of mutual desire. You’re here for my pleasure. You asked for this. I’m here because the Councils want me here, but I brought you because I want you.”

  Teran kissed her hard. Cailyn opened her mouth to receive the kiss, wanting Teran to touch her. It would be so much easier to go back to those days.

  She peered at the dress out of the corner of her eye. What more would she ever get than this apology? She wrapped her hands around Teran and held on.

  “Come with me,” Teran breathed. “I have better ways to apologize than feeble words.”

  To Cailyn’s surprise, Teran led her to her own bed and bid her undress and lie down. She tapped at a spot under the mattress with her foot. A compartment sprang out. Inside lay a pair of restraints like the metal ones she’d used many times before. She slid them onto Cailyn’s wrists and ankles, then kissed her feet and hands.

  Her fingers slid up Cailyn’s legs. “How do the others touch you?”

  “The others?”

  “This is supposed to
be an apology.” She traced soft kisses over the places where her hands had been.

  Then she looked up. Her lips curled into a smile. “You like that, don’t you, my little one?”

  Cailyn twisted in her bonds. “Yes, but—”

  “What?” Clawless fingers skimmed the surface of Cailyn’s skin.

  “You’re not like the others. That’s why I see you.”

  Teran licked the inside of Cailyn’s thigh, then pushed her legs apart. Her tongue laved Cailyn’s vulva once.

  She looked up. “It tastes strange without blood.”

  Cailyn shivered again. Was that Teran’s idea of a joke, or had she really never tasted anyone without making her bleed first?

  Cailyn twisted in her bonds, pulling away from Teran’s mouth. She wasn’t ready for these caresses to soothe away her anger. She didn’t want Teran to touch her like this. She didn’t want to be calmed.

  She could surrender to Teran. That would be easier. She could let herself be torn open by the pain. It could rip forgiveness from her in a scream, vivid and simple.

  If Teran soothed her instead, she’d have to feel it first.

  “My lady,” she breathed, her tone carefully flattering. She tried to ignore the feeling of Teran’s tongue against her skin.

  Half of a courtesan’s work was her facade. She’d never needed it for Lady Nivrai, hated to use it now. But she couldn’t bring herself to turn Teran away.

  She opened her mouth in an eager pout and spread her legs. “Take me.”

  “Is that what’s bothering you?” Cailyn could hear the change in Teran’s voice. “You would rather I was rough with you?” The claws, extended now, dug into her skin. “You’d rather that I—use you—”

  “Yes,” Cailyn gasped.

  One of the hands reached to grip her breast, hard and bruising. “Teran’s whore, is that it?”

  The resonant voice filled the room, rich with arousal. Cailyn’s eyes began to tear as Teran clutched and twisted at her breast.

  “Is that what you want? For me to take you, use you, tear you apart with no regard for anything but our mutual pleasure?”

  She laughed, piercing and clear. “I could do that.” She loomed above Cailyn, her knee pressing hard into Cailyn’s groin. Cailyn pushed back against it, her skin igniting to the pressure. Desire flared through her. She ground her vulva against Teran’s thigh.

  “Yes, I could easily do that,” Teran purred, staring down at Cailyn as she writhed, her face swimming in Cailyn’s vision.

  She let go.

  “My lady?” Cailyn blinked to clear away the tears.

  “The question is: could you?”

  Cailyn’s breath came ragged as she gasped. “Could I do what?”

  “You’re angry with me. You haven’t forgiven me.”

  “My lady, I—”

  “It’s the truth, isn’t it? If I can’t fight the Councils, will you still be Teran’s whore?”

  Cailyn forced her breathing to slow. As much as she wanted to think of nothing but the pulse between her legs, Teran was right.

  Cailyn wanted to forgive her. But she hadn’t. Not yet.

  Feeling tears well in her eyes again, she shook her head. It made a nice dream, a beautiful woman ravishing her until she could no longer remember fear.

  But it was a dream. “No. No, I couldn’t.”

  Teran’s eyes narrowed. The thigh pressing into Cailyn’s vulva moved. Cailyn’s skin tingled as Teran slid back down, kissing her body as she went.

  “Then let me apologize properly, little one.”

  With a sigh, Cailyn lay back down. Teran kissed her chest and looked up.

  “But you do have a point about not doing quite what the others do with you.” She bit lightly at Cailyn’s skin.

  The small thrill of pain made Cailyn gasp, her back arching to meet Teran’s mouth. Teran moaned softly in response.

  “That’s better,” she said. Her lips slid down Cailyn’s chest, then her stomach, then farther still. “Now, where was I?”

  She didn’t wait for an answer. A shudder went through Cailyn as Teran’s tongue touched her flesh. She thrashed.

  I should be serving you, she thought.

  An arm, slender but strong, pushed her back down. Teran’s tongue licked her flesh greedily. Powerful hands pushed Cailyn’s body closer. She could neither avoid the seeking tongue intent on unmasking her, nor halt the passion rising in response to it.

  Teran moaned. Did it please Teran so much to see her overwhelmed by pleasure? She’d done it once before, but made Cailyn bleed first. This time—

  With a hungry cry, Teran lapped at Cailyn’s clitoris. Cailyn felt herself seize up. Teran’s hands clutched so hard she wondered if even the clawless fingernails could draw blood. She cried out as her body released, and she collapsed back into the soft sheets.

  After a long moment, she looked down. Teran stared up at her, her gaze fierce and purposeful. She tried to look away, but it held her fast.

  “What do you say, little one?” Teran asked. Cailyn blushed as Teran licked her lips. “Do you forgive me now?”

  Cailyn floated in the aftermath of pleasure. What could she say? The suit still unnerved her. The memory of the torn dress was still fresh in her mind.

  But no other noble she’d ever met would apologize like this.

  She laughed as the aftershocks came again. “Maybe I do, my lady.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  A young boy answered the door. He had pale skin and a mop of wild red hair no amount of combing could tame, but under it his eyes were dark. He took one look at Cailyn and bounced away into the room.

  “Father!” he called. “The woman you wanted to see is here.”

  Cailyn stepped back. Her father’s clients had visited during her own girlhood. Innocent conversation had never done her any harm. Enough nobles saw courtesans that conferences like these almost always had soundproofed bedrooms.

  But this boy’s greeting made something flutter in her stomach. He’d be only a room away, no matter what passed between her and Lord Keriel.

  “Coming, Dion,” a familiar voice called.

  The child pouted at Cailyn. “You know my mother.”

  Cailyn’s eyes widened. This was Teran Nivrai’s son?

  She didn’t see much of a resemblance. The hair looked like his father’s. But the eyes looked nothing like Teran’s gray eyes or Lord Keriel’s green ones. Teran’s mouth was thin and pale, but this boy’s thick lips were pink and full.

  She looked down at his hands and saw slender, long fingers. He fidgeted, as any child might. But the shape of those fingers—she shuddered.

  Yes, those might come from Teran Nivrai.

  But should she answer him? Teran had called it all a secret. What would she be courting if she acknowledged it?

  And what if she didn’t? Didn’t this boy deserve to know something about where he came from, even if Teran hid herself from him?

  Besides, if he knew who Teran was already, he already knew they’d come to the conference together.

  Dion’s brow furrowed. He glared up at her, tapping his foot in obvious impatience.

  “Yes,” Cailyn said at last. “Yes, I know your mother.”

  “That’s hers around your neck.”

  His stare bored into Cailyn. That, she recognized.

  Cailyn swallowed. How much could a boy so young know about what something like that meant?

  “Yes, this came from her.”

  Dion brushed a lock of hair out of his face. “Do you like it?”

  “I—what? Yes, I like it.”

  The boy grinned. He opened his mouth to ask another question. His father’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. Lord Keriel’s fingers gripped hard at the boy’s shoulder. Cailyn could see the creases of the fabric under his hands.

  “That’s enough, Dion. This woman is my guest.”

  “But she knows my mother.”

  Cailyn tensed. But instead of letting loose with the angry outburs
t she expected, Lord Keriel smoothed his face into a smile.

  “You can ask her about that later. Right now, I need to welcome my guest.”

  The boy didn’t retort. He dragged his feet and sulked, headed back toward what Cailyn assumed must be his room.

  Lord Keriel extended his hand to Cailyn. “I apologize for him.”

  Cailyn shook his hand. “He was curious, my lord. I don’t blame him.”

  “I told him I had a visitor coming. I expected him to be gone when you arrived.”

  “Perhaps we should leave. Or postpone this meeting.”

  “He can leave instead.”

  “We can—”

  “He is leaving. Now.”

  She heard a door open behind them. A servant in Keriel green ushered the boy out. He followed without protest, but Cailyn saw him cast a significant glance at her as she went.

  “My lord,” she tried again. He didn’t answer.

  Cailyn bit back a sigh. She followed him into a spacious bedroom with deep green walls. Large, pale-curtained windows opened out on a lush view. One wall bore a massive portrait of Dion. His curls fell in an orange blaze around his head. His expression under them was intense, too serious for such a young boy. Did he really glare like that most of the time, or was that artistic license to make him look more like a Keriel should?

  Or more like a Nivrai?

  Lord Keriel started to sit on the spacious bed in the center of the room. He thought better of it and walked over to Cailyn, his eyes fixed on her.

  He stood even taller than Cailyn had thought. Long arms and legs hung from his slender frame. His mouth, thick-lipped like Dion’s, smiled broadly, showing whitened teeth. Wrinkles around his mouth showed his age, older than Teran. His eyes glittered under his curls, bright orange as Dion’s but less unruly. The double diadem showing his rank on the High Council shone around his forehead. His hands, like Dion’s, were restless. His fingers twitched.

  He wore the traditional colors of his house, a deep green matching his eyes. Elaborate embroidered leaves twined over his vest. Curls meant to represent their stems snaked between them. Over his heart, the pattern twisted into the Keriel symbol, stylized to look almost like a blooming flower.