Altered: A Beyond the Brothel Walls Novel

by Ryans, Rae Z.

  “You felt me?”

  Rough palms ran over my biceps and dragged me closer to him. His nose touched mine, and he thought, “From the day we me, I have always felt you.” His lips feathered against mine, tickling. Dorian placed my hand over his pounding heart. “The bar…I felt you before you walked inside.”

  “Defluo,” I said, holding his naked image in my mind. His shirt disappeared.

  Dorian shivered. “I have to get used to the magic.”

  A moan slipped through my parted lips, and my shaky hands explored the planes of his smooth back. He gently shoved me. Drunk on one another, we stumbled and landed on the aged mattress. It groaned beneath our combined weight. He laughed and shook his dark head, and a lone tendril fell into his eyes.

  I smoothed the stray lock into place and sighed. God but was he sexy when he towered over me. “You’re impossible.” My palm rubbed against his denim-clad hard-on, and Dorian bucked his hips against the friction. “Defluo,” I repeated the spell, and an idea sparked. His belt rattled against the floor as I nibbled kisses over his bare stomach.

  His thoughts bounded between release and making sure I was still okay.

  “I’m fine,” I murmured against his soap-scented skin.

  Dorian’s fingers combed through my hair. I worked on his button, freeing him from the prison. He kicked his jeans to the floor before crawling on top of me.

  “You wore underwear?” I chuckled, recalling his commando thought from the other day. The boxer briefs left little to the imagination, tenting and straining to hold his member.

  Dorian offered only a faint shrug while he brushed his cock against mine. I arched into his grind, pressing and rubbing my groin against him. As if lightning struck my body, pleasure emerged and spread over my skin.

  “Shite,” he cursed, and smirked. With each pump of his hips, Dorian’s green eyes brightened until a strange haze illuminated his olive skin. He slanted forward and sucked my lip between his teeth, slowing his momentum. Sweat glistened from his body and his arms tremored. “I am such a fucking twat,” he whispered. “I never should’ve left you, Cain.”

  “Water under the bridge,” I lied, recalling the same words releasing from Boric’s mouth before. He’d usually followed them with gifts, more kind words, or sex.

  Forcing myself to stay in the moment with Dorian, my hands explored his chest. From the forest of hair caressing his nipples to the subtle outline of his pecks, my fingers roamed until he had gasped and cried out, “Cain...don’t fucking stop...”

  I closed my eyes and tiptoed the fine line between reality and my past.

  “Look at me,” Dorian said in a breathless tone. “Babe, no, stay with me.” Concern laced into his words.

  My eyes shot open. His wrinkled brow deepened before softening.

  “That’s it.” Dorian grounded me with his eyes and voice. “Come with me.”

  “I don’t work like that,” I said, head shaking.

  Dorian slowed his thrusts, but I stared at the dresser. His cock throbbed against mine, but he stopped and I glanced at him without moving. Sighing, he reached for me and stroked my face. Without words, his gentle caress soothed my spirit.

  “What are you afraid of?” he asked, his hand trailing down my neck. “That I’ll leave you if you don’t organism every time we make love?” A long breath hissed through his teeth. “Or are you afraid of the pleasure itself?” He grasped my cock.

  “Oh.” My body trembled beneath his thrusting hand. “Dorian.” The words seemed foreign and distance. His hand released me, and his cock rubbed against mine once more. I clawed into his shoulders, and my world exploded into colors. My toes curled into themselves, my being shuddering to a pattering stop.

  He cried out, “I’m coming,” as hot ropes pulsed from his cock, joining mine.

  On top of me, he collapsed, kissing me down from the high. His eyes reflected the color of love, sparking and swimming among the green. Tender lips kissed my neck and trailed along the outline of my snake tattoo. Aftershocks vibrated through my body. I blinked and watched his descent. He paused at my belly button, and I gasped at his tongue darting across my cum-coated skin.

  Dorian moaned, “I can’t get enough of you.”

  “Plenty of you there too.”

  Air rushed over my groin as he removed my soiled boxers. Dorian brought them to his nose and inhaled. Green eyes dilated, and his fists tightened around the cotton.

  My insides pooled and burned at the reaction. I was not the only one, and my head shook.

  Dorian asked, “What?”

  “You know what,” I said, sitting up and laughing. My palm grasped and tugged his cock through his cum-soaked boxers. When it came to sex, the man was insatiable. Not that I minded servicing his needs, but what if this was another fluke? What happened when the flashbacks returned? The thought flittered away, and I shoved it deeper into the recesses of my mind.

  Dorian was not Boric.

  His mushroom tip strained and poked out of the fly. Saltiness and sex permeated the air. My mouth hovered, teasing Dorian.

  “Babe, you…”

  My lips slid over the tip and down his shaft. My intent vibrated, and I hummed and sucked. Our gazes connected and energetic, green eyes peered at me through heavy lids.

  “Fuck, you can’t get enough of me either.”

  He curled his large hands into my hair and tugged. Dorian bit his lip. His mind jumped from unleashing to the weather as his laboring muscles shook the bed. His attempts failed to slow me, and I increased my speed; he thickened and swelled. Sweet cream erupted, tickling the roof of my mouth, and he stilled and grunted. I swallowed every spurt, holding his cock hostage between my lips.

  Dorian grasped my arms and yanked me against his chest. The hammering of his heart echoed my own and thumped against my ear. I clung to him. His mindless fingers danced over the hidden scars along my back and shoulders.

  “We’ll figure this out,” he whispered, and brushed his mouth over my hair. “I’m not letting you go, Cain.” Thick, muscular arms tightened their grasp, as he spoke, and squeezed me tighter. “Don’t run.”

  I gulped and nodded, recalling I had dashed away from the shore after he’d asked me to wait. “I’m broken and can’t be fixed.”

  Dorian grasped my chin and forced me to fixate on him. Green eyes lit with spark, and my breath sucked in.

  He said, “I will chase you, and babe? I don’t know how to fail. Nod if you understand.”

  “I can say yes.” The same way I’d said yes to Boric all those years ago.

  “As for broken? We’re all broken, including me.” He tapped my cheek and smiled. “You need to pack. Garland will send more men.”

  I grunted and allowed my gaze to take in my belongings. Not much, but the thought of leaving it all behind didn’t sit well either.

  “We can take it all. I meant what I said.” He brushed his lips over my cheek. “Let me take care of you.”

  Without another word, Dorian gathered his clothes and left me alone in the bedroom. I drew a hand through my hair and down my face. He gave me what I wanted, yet why did my stomach churn, like impending doom. My palm rested above the rumbling surface. I glanced at the smooth ring and sighed. Everything spoke to me of love, yet he hadn’t said the words. But if the time ever arrived, would I believe him?

  Dorian waited in the living room for me to compose and redress before regaling the earlier promised tale of his accidental hetero sex. After packing a small bag, I sat with him on the sofa and rifled through a stack of work and personal papers. Anything indicating Belle, Tomas, or Dorian left behind for Garland to find, Boric would use against me. I might have been Death’s weakness, but like my sisters, he was mine.

  “This one goes way back into the fourteen hundreds. There was a lot of wine involved, and she’d dressed like a guy…needless to say, we’d both had a surprise that night.”

  I dropped the papers and turned toward him. My hand ran over his thick, denim-clad thigh. “
You didn’t cop a feel first?” My fingers danced up his stomach and squeezed his pecks.

  Dorian swallowed hard, and my mouth turned drier than a bone.

  I tweaked his nipple. “What about her bosom?”

  “Alcohol makes the senses fuzzy. Maybe I thought her plump. It was centuries ago, Cain.” His white teeth flashed against the darkness of his beard. “Besides, I’m an ass man, to which I can recall hers being delicious. Your turn.”

  “Mine is a little darker. Sadly, I don’t have funny tales.”

  He stared at my hand, and I drew myself away, willing the blood not to rush straight to my cheeks. The walls closed in around me, and I shut my eyes. You can do this he will not run. But I didn’t believe my own words, or his. The test of all tests had begun, and I didn’t dare look at Dorian. In a gentle caress, his hand rubbed over my back.

  I exhaled in the warmth he shared without knowing my damned past. “I was born and raised in the southern states, Texas to be exact, three hundred years ago. By the start of the Civil War, I had just celebrated my sixteenth birthday. Even then, I wasn’t yet a man…” My words shook and the memory of that innocent boy peeked into my mind. “Lily and I found ourselves sold into Garland’s service shortly thereafter.” After the war, he’d shipped us over the border into Mexico. I didn’t return to Texas until ten years prior to the Sundering, escaping shortly afterward, but Jules had taken my sister, Lily, away long before then.

  “How?” His hand fisted my shirt.

  My body trembled, and Dorian’s grip loosened. “Our father gambled,” my head hung lower, “he’d lost everything…he sold us as payment. That’s my older sister Angelica She was sold off in an arranged marriage to Veric Garland,” I pointed to a photograph Tomas had found for me, “Or was…I don’t quite know if she survived.”

  My restless fingers tapped over the coffee table. Dorian’s gaze raked over me, as if assessing the damage. My face burned hotter with each passing moment, breath held.

  “Tomas had hinted as much. And the strange pixie…Veric…” Dorian wrapped his arms around my trembling body.

  His thoughts confused me, but I couldn’t linger on them, or else I’d lose my nerve to explain. Words and sobs unleashed, but I continued, “Neither of us understood the ramifications. We were only kids. My father told us we belonged to the Garland family, and we were to do whatever they requested. I’d assumed that meant chores, and we would return home each night…Like servants…Lily was fourteen at the time.” I sniffled and blinked my burning eyes. “I...I still hear her cries...and the...screams. We weren’t the only ones. They’re drowned out only by my own.”

  My voice lowered. “I couldn’t stop…them.” I stood and lifted my shirt, willing the spell to end within my mind. On my body, I hid scars, but I carried others blind to the eye. Deep lashes riveted my tender skin, a constant reminder, yet beneath me lay the wounds perpetuating my lies. Ones that bled every second of my existence and still held the knife the masters and Boric had plunged into me. “Magic hides them,” I whispered, eying him over my shoulder and releasing my shirt.

  Dorian chewed my lip, already plotting revenge in his mind. “How did you escape?” he asked, but his mind also asked when.

  “Eighteen years ago, after Angelica died, or the first time?”

  “Both…” The couch let out a groan. Dorian shifted, his leg touching mine.

  “Lily traveled to Delphia. I’d overheard the chatter and planned to flee, hoping I could overthrow them. Guards caught me stealing provisions. The demons…” I shook my head and stopped. “They were always a step ahead of me, like…I don’t know. Like they wanted me there for more than…” A few times, I made it farther, but either the guards or elements caught me.

  “The last time?”

  “I had help…My brother-in-law smuggled me out. Boric and the masters were furious, though. I’d stolen from them again.” I smirked, thinking of the keys. Quickly dissipated, though, since he’d killed her because of them.

  Dorian hoisted himself from the couch and engulfed me in the bulk of his arms, pressing me against the wall of his chest. Tales and horror stories had traveled; even into Arcadia, of what Boric Garland did to his personal slaves and of how he encouraged others to do the same. Dorian’s thoughts wandered over three questions: did he rape me, did he beat me, and what had I stolen from him.

  They had raped me. “Yes.” They had beaten me. “Yes.” But that was life for many stuck in Garland or Delphia. “I stole his source of power.” No matter what they’d tried, though, I wouldn’t reveal the location of Angelica’s keys. I held on and remained strong for her sake alone, but the bastard murdered her anyway. Still, her dream of peace among the seven families had survived.

  At least we had led everyone to believe her death had been real, but I still struggled with the truth. Our mother had cast a spell and put her soul into Angelica’s body and Angelica’s soul into a stillborn baby she had birthed from magic.

  My tears wet the fabric of his shirt. Dorian rubbed circles over my back. Gentle murmurs shushed me, and he rocked us back and forth. No matter the might of my faith, God had allowed the bastards to rape and murder my sister. Forget about what they’d done to me. The purest soul the world had ever known died at their hands, and they still had my sweet, innocent Lilith. Those demons belonged locked away where they could not hurt anyone but themselves. Out of control, the demons created their own hell on Earth, and I held no power to stop them.

  “I’ll bloody fucking kill him,” he whispered in my ear. “We’re planning on taking them down, but it will take time and manpower.”

  I sniffled and brushed my palms upward over his chest and around his neck. Assuming we had meant his family, I asked, “How can we stop them?”

  “What follows Death?”

  My brow rose.

  “Sheol, babe, I control purgatory.”

  I played with his collar and smirked. “That’s hot.”

  “Replying with your hot seems redundant and inappropriate given the situation,” he thought. All words seemed meaningless in that moment.

  “The past is the past, and I’ll hunt down every demon that dared hurt you, Angel, or Lily.”

  “Angel.” Never had I called her that in his presence. My thumb caressed his soft lips, and he kissed the tip. “You know about Angel, don’t you? You already knew about me...” A shiver rushed straight to my groin, and I urged my cock down. With the wrong head in charge, we would wind up at square one with his ass in the air, and my dick buried between his muscled cheeks.

  Dorian smirked and patted my face. “The three of you look alike, babe, kinda hard to miss. Tomas told me some. He’s back in town.” We inched closer holding—being in the moment. “I have a surprise for you.”

  “Oh?” My nose brushed his and my hands tightened on his forearms. I didn’t like surprises.

  Warmth filled every gaping hole, and even those I hadn’t realized existed, marking the difference between Dorian and Boric. In the hundreds of years spent serving him, not once had, his presence invoked such a sensation from my heart. No flutters or pangs of loss when he’d departed, but the lack of feeling didn’t make his barbs any less painful.

  “Are we good now, babe? No more secrets?”

  I closed my eyes; my brows scrunched. I wanted to tell him more, yet I couldn’t bring myself to spoil the good mood and bring up my relationship with Boric. Dorian would undoubtedly brand me a traitor and never speak to me again if he learned that part of me, despite the abuse, had fallen in love with a monster.

  “Please, I’ll beg…you can kick my ass again…I’ll wash dishes and take out the trash.” A chuckle shook his chest, as if he hadn’t done those chores already. “We can take it slow. Whatever you need.”

  Blinking, I smiled at him and allowed my revelation to root. He grinned, and my heart trembled and sputtered, trying to keep up.

  “Who knew Death could swoon,” I said, twining my fingers into Dorian’s hair. “I don’t need slow,
but I need honesty and understanding. Most of all, I need you.”

  He whispered, “You got me, babe.”

  Dorian’s teeth nipped my mouth, and I opened for him, wanting to believe him. My lungs ached; he stole away my breath. Energy charged the air rushing between us and pricked my skin. He consumed my entire being. His hands gripped my hair, slamming my mouth harder and closer against his until we had no beginning and no end.

  We were one; Dorian would kill anyone who tried to alter that and so would I. Every inch of my soul, heart, and mind rested in the palm of Death’s hand. The one difference was now he knew it. The sheer sight of him had me wanting him. From the first taste, I had gained a new addiction. Dorian drew away, but didn’t let go of my hand. He scented the air filling my lungs, but the much-needed breath settled my dizziness.

  “Besides the dudes I burned and your overdrive libido, what else happened? You said Tomas sent men too? He’s back?”

  Dorian filled me in on the new comers. “They’re looking for Lily. You were right about the Duc having her. Babe, why do you think they would cross the border?”

  He held something back, my surprise maybe, but there was more to the story. A few theories came to mind, but I swallowed hard and shrugged.

  “And not that it matters,” he scratched his head, but something wasn’t right, “but what are you guys?”

  My eyes pinched for a moment. Dorian already knew the answer, but I whispered, “Descendants of the Morning Star. Why does it matter?”

  What Dorian didn’t know was why Garland wanted us. They wanted the keys; the keys equaled power to whoever held them all. Some whispered they unlocked a great treasure and all the power on Earth. But I had honored the promise vowed to Angelica. Bitterness rose in my throat at lying to Dorian again, though.

  “Sweets? You ready?” I’d finished with my papers and motioned toward the door, but he stood there still as a statue, his broad shoulders facing away. His attention pointed out the sliding glass door, but nothing was there on the balcony.

  “Why, not what, Cain. Why the Morning Stars? What makes you any different from me?”