In Chains

by K. L. Thorne

  Sooner than she would have liked, Sivelle was desperately gasping for breath and clawing at Haros for more. Her body tensed as the pulsing and clenching came faster and faster.

  “You’re going to come, aren’t you sweetheart?” Haros rasped with a short laugh.

  Sivelle just whimpered and nodded her head.

  He circled her faster still and Sivelle felt every muscle in her body stiffen as she teetered on the brink.

  With a small squeak, her whole body quivered and the demon pushed her over the edge into an orgasm. She dug her nails into his back as she allowed wave after wave of pleasure course over her.

  Just when she thought it might never end, she sucked in a breath. Her whole body trembled like a leaf, her hips jerking away from Haros’s touch.

  With a self-satisfied ‘hmph’, he removed his hand from her and began rocking against her once more. He steadily increased the ferocity of his thrusting and her body was like jelly. She was boneless and unable to resist.

  Post-orgasm, every thrust felt full and satisfying. Weak residual pleasure rippled through her every time the demon drove himself into her.

  Haros’s breaths grew harsher and faster. He pressed his mouth against hers in a desperate, messy kiss which she whole-heartedly returned.

  “Fuck, yes, Sivelle,” he groaned, spreading her further beneath him. “Get those lovely legs back by your ears for me.”

  It was a phrase she was used to hearing, but this wasn’t like anything she had ever experienced in any dance lesson. Sivelle obediently stretched her body as far back as she could, flicking her lower leg out straight. She felt the muscles in her pelvis tighten and protest as she stretched herself further than she ever had before.

  Liza would be so proud and, judging by the desperate moan she elicited from the demon, he was also rather impressed.

  Every breath escaped him as a soft grunt as he pushed himself closer to his end and Sivelle opened herself to him, eager to help him any way she could. She nuzzled into his neck, biting and kissing him, whilst her hands trailed down to his behind. She clawed him gently, tempting an even deeper penetration.

  She rocked against him as much as she was able to, encouraging him to join her over the edge.

  He stilled, seated deep inside her, and groaned between clenched teeth as he came. Sivelle felt his pleasure as if it were her own and brought her legs down to wrap tightly around his waist.

  After a few long seconds, the demon gasped for breath and allowed his heavy body to collapse onto hers. Sivelle could feel the stickiness of sweat pooling between them, but paid it no mind. She draped her arms around his neck and pulled him close.

  The demon returned her embrace, panting in her ear. They lay still for a moment and, in the privacy of the dark room, Sivelle began to cry.

  It occurred to her, in this moment of all moments, that she and Haros would never be able to be together like this outside these four walls. The whole evening had been wonderful, truly the best of her life, but it was not her life that they had lived. It had been a brief glance into how things could be, if she wasn’t her father’s daughter.

  Sivelle ached with regret, immediately wishing she could go back in time and decline Mivian’s invite to the fair. No, further still and refuse her father’s offer of a thrall.

  Haros was the most wonderful thing to have ever happened to her, but it was to be fleeting - he had to leave her. The longer he stayed, the riskier it became that someone would discover who he was and he had business back in Banesteppe with his king.

  He talked idly of escaping with her, but Sivelle knew all too well how that could turn out. Just like when Faye had escaped, she would not risk Haros’s life by foolishly attempting to join him.

  Even if he managed to devise a successful escape, they were fast running out of time. Her father’s ball marked the end for her, the last dregs of her freedom would be drained from her pathetic existence.

  She would be miserable for the rest of her life, that she was certain of. For how could anything ever compare with this?

  “Hey, are you alright?” Haros asked, wiping the wetness of her tears from his face where he had been pressed against her. “Are you crying? Oh shit, I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  His concern for her just encouraged fresh tears to well and spill. She shook her head and desperately wrestled with her emotions, attempting to tame them back into submission.

  “No, it was perfect. I’m just… I’ve had too much to drink, that’s all,” she lied, swiping her tears away.

  Haros sat up and carefully pulled himself from her body. With the flames of her passion waning, Sivelle became aware of a dull ache deep inside her. She was going to be delicate for a few days, no doubt.

  “Stay here, I’ll get something to clean up with,” the demon said, shuffling from the bed. He padded, naked, into the bath chamber.

  Sivelle stared at the ceiling, taking deep breaths to calm herself. She had always known things would get to this point eventually. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her, she just had to glimpse behind the curtain to see what her life could be, with little thought to the irreversible consequences it would have on the rest of her life after it was all over.

  “Can you draw me a bath?” Sivelle shouted to Haros. “I’m cold… and a bit sticky.”

  The demon didn’t reply, but she heard him laugh. The sound of water running greeted her as he began to fill the tub for her.

  Haros’s dark shadow returned to her. He had a warm, wet cloth in his hands that he rested on her pubic bone. Sivelle took it from him gratefully and wiped the worst of the mess from between her legs.

  “Hey girl, it’s only me,” he whispered to the dragonette. Sivelle heard Nyre’s soft, sleepy cooing in response.

  Light erupted into the room as Haros used his majicka to light the candles that lined the mantlepiece and the room was steadily engulfed by their soft, flickering light.

  Sivelle watched as the handsome demon joined her back on the bed. He lay on his side and rested his head in his palm, reaching out to stroke the back of his finger over his cheek.

  “Are you sure you’re alright?”

  “I’m… I don’t even have a word for how good I feel.” Sivelle cast him a smile.

  “Then why the waterworks?” he asked, cocking a brow.

  She waved a hand dismissively at him. “Just ignore me, I’ve had too much to drink and got a bit emotional. It was just so… Good.”

  “Crying is not the reaction I’m used to getting, I’ve got to be honest.”

  “Sorry,” Sivelle mumbled.

  “Nah, it’s fine – as long as you weren’t upset. Crying because it was too good is a real compliment, I suppose.” Haros leant over to kiss her lips softly.

  “It was definitely too good,” she agreed. He shot her a smug grin and kissed her again.

  They lay together for a moment, kissing, before Haros eventually pulled away.

  “Come on, that bath should be about ready now. Mind if I join you?”

  “Not at all, if you think we’ll both fit,” Sivelle replied with a laugh and sat up.

  Haros reached out for her and helped her to her feet. Sivelle was alarmed as her legs shook beneath her.

  “I feel like I’m walking on ice! What have you done to me?”

  “Ah, that’s how you know it really was too good, when you can barely walk afterwards.” He grinned. “Here…”

  Sivelle squealed as he scooped her up into his arms.

  She squirmed, fighting her laughter. “Put me down! I don’t need you to carry me to the bath chamber. It wasn’t that good!”

  “You wound me, Princess.” Haros replied, but ignored her protesting and carried her to the bathtub.

  The bath chamber was warm and filled with steam. Sivelle ached to slide beneath the hot, soapy water. In the aftermath of such a momentous day, exhaustion loomed and her head began to ache.

  Haros let her down to her feet. Sivelle stepped in eagerly and sat curled up at o
ne end of the tub to allow some room for the demon to join her.

  She was surprised by how spacious her bathtub really was as he sat down opposite her. It was cosy, but not nearly as cramped as she had imagined. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin against them, staring vacantly into the bubbles of soap around her.

  Haros slumped back with a sigh, stretching himself out as much as he was able to. Sivelle gazed at the wide expanse of wet, warm chest that lay out invitingly before her.

  Feeling fragile and hollow, she was desperate to seek any form of comfort she could find. Sivelle wriggled forwards and lay her body against his. As she relaxed in the hot water, with the smell of soap and the faint rhythmical thumping of Haros’s heart beneath her ear, Sivelle felt her eyelids grow heavy.

  Haros gently started picking the small decorative flowers from her hair, lining them up along the rim of the bathtub. She smoothed a hand over one of his pectoral muscles in thanks.

  Sivelle had only closed her eyes for a moment, but was jolting back to full consciousness from a deep sleep the next. Haros was clumsily attempting to get both himself and her out of the bath without disturbing her.

  “Sorry,” he muttered.

  Sivelle just shook her head and, still half-asleep, stepped obediently out of the bath. Haros wrapped her up in a thick fluffy towel and then draped another around his own hips. He spent a moment towelling the worst of the water from her. She stood still, swaying a little on her feet.

  “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

  “My head hurts,” the princess grumbled. Haros chuckled from behind her as he steered her into the bedroom.

  “Unfortunately it’s only going to get worse. Welcome to the reality of over indulgence, sweetheart.”

  Sivelle flopped face first onto her bed, still wrapped in her towel. Haros pulled back the bedsheets around her before grabbing her legs and sliding her around so she lay with her head against a pillow. He unravelled her from her towel and Sivelle clambered beneath the sheets, eager to shield her warm skin from the chill of the bedroom.

  She snuggled down with a heavy sigh. When the demon didn’t join her, she cracked open her eyes.

  Haros had walked to the balcony doors and was stood, still in his towel, staring out with a thoughtful look on his face. He frowned, clearly wrestling with his emotions just as she was.

  When sadness threatened to overwhelm her once more, Sivelle shut her eyes and fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

  ∞∞∞

  The princess awoke to a stabbing pain in her right temple and a mouth like sand. Sivelle swallowed in a futile attempt to relieve her dry throat, but to no avail. She groaned and rolled over, surprised and confused for a moment when she collided with the warm body beside her.

  Haros grunted in response as she clearly woke him from sleep.

  “I feel like death,” Sivelle mumbled, burying her face in her pillow. She was both hot and cold at the same time and an alarming wave of nausea loomed on the fringe of her consciousness.

  “Hungover then?” the demon asked, his voice gravelly from sleep. He yawned and rolled over to drape his arm across her.

  “Where is Mivian? I need water,” she said, her voice muffled by the bedding.

  “I wouldn’t hold out much hope for that today. Mivian was in a worse state than you last night. She’s not going to be up for doing much of anything.” Haros chuckled.

  Sivelle felt the bed jostle and she turned her face, her eyes felt gritty as she opened them. Haros sat up and swung his legs out of the bed.

  “Where are you going?”

  He reached for his undergarments and slid his legs into them “Getting you water. I’m your thrall, remember? Your wish is my command and all that shit.”

  Despite her sorry state, Sivelle laughed softly. She rolled onto her hip, alarmed for a second to feel a tell-tale tenderness between her thighs.

  She was sullied. Her body would remain forever changed by her handsome demon companion. It was the last of her freedoms that she refused to let her father dictate for her. She was ruined in the best way. Sivelle grinned.

  Refusing to allow her thoughts to linger on the uncertain future that lay ahead of her, Sivelle watched Haros’s well-muscled, tattooed back flex as he dragged himself up onto his feet and padded into the bath chamber. There was a faint clattering noise and then water running.

  Haros returned to her and placed a decorated china container on her bedside table. Sivelle stared at it, recognising it immediately.

  “That’s not a glass – that’s the pot I use to store my toothbrush.”

  “I said I was a slave, I didn’t say I was a good one,” Haros retorted, flopping heavily down beside her once more.

  Sivelle sighed irritably, but still reached for the water. She almost sighed with relief as the cool liquid washed down her throat.

  “Does healing majicka work on a hangover?” she asked.

  Haros laughed. “Oh princess, if only. I could probably take the headache away, but until you rehydrate and have something to eat, I’m afraid you’re on your own.”

  She grumbled incoherently and hid her face in her pillow once more. Haros just laughed at her again.

  Sivelle jumped as he smoothed a rough, warm palm down her back. He trailed his hand down over her bottom, squeezing her appreciatively.

  “How is everything else feeling today?” he asked. Though his question was vague, Sivelle knew exactly what he was referring to.

  “A little tender, but okay.”

  “Glad to hear it. Not quite up for round two just yet then?”

  Sivelle reached over to try and hit the demon playfully. He caught her fist with a deep chuckle.

  The bed jostled once more and Sivelle felt the sharp claws of her dragonette pricking her legs through the bedsheets.

  “Hey Nyre,” Haros said.

  The dragonette purred at him and stumbled gracelessly over their bodies to lay between them. Sivelle smoothed a hand down the dragonette’s spiny back.

  “We’ve got something exciting planned today, girl,” Haros continued. “I think you’re ready for your first adventure.”

  Nyre screeched excitedly and Sivelle groaned. The sound pierced her sensitive skull like a nail. She buried her head underneath her pillow.

  “Come on, let’s leave grumpy in bed,” Haros teased, swatting Sivelle’s bottom playfully with his hand as he got up. She felt the air billow around her as Nyre followed the demon eagerly.

  The princess lay still, listening to Haros trying to convince the dragonette that she wanted to wear the vest Sivelle had found, with a smile on her face.

  The demon talked to Nyre as if she were a child, and it occurred to her that Haros would probably be good with real children too.

  Sivelle shook herself. Already thinking about children after one night in the sack? It was embarrassingly preposterous!

  And impossible. She knew her father would have that child killed, if it ever came to be a reality. Her heart sank and she chastised herself silently for allowing such a thought, however fleeting, to be conceived.

  She and Haros had a shelf-life, one that was rapidly approaching. She needed to remember that.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nyre perched on the stone wall of the balcony and gazed off at the horizon. Haros swatted her, pulling her attention back to him.

  “Listen to me, this is important,” he scolded and held out a crudely drawn map for the dragonette to survey. He was no orienteering expert like Lephas, but he hoped the doodle would be detailed enough for Nyre to identify landmarks from it.

  “It’s a shame they took all my clothing off me before I arrived here. A scrap of cloth that smells like Banesteppe would have been ideal,” Haros muttered.

  He was so engrossed with Nyre’s last minute flight plans that he didn’t hear Sivelle join him on the balcony until her hands met with the small of his back.

  “How is it going?” she asked, peering curiously around his body at the map.


  “Oh, hey. You’re up.” He smiled and side-stepped to allow Sivelle to join them. He draped an arm around her. “We’re getting there. I was just thinking what a shame it is I don’t have anything to give her that smells like Banesteppe. That would be a sure-fire way to ensure she got there. Dragonettes have a very keen sense of smell.”

  Sivelle looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before padding back inside. He waited curiously until she re-appeared with a silver locket.

  “We do have something,” she said, opening the casing and pulling out the small scrap of paper that her sisters had sent to her on her birthday.

  Haros shook his head “We can’t use that. What if Nyre loses it or it gets damaged? You’d be heartbroken.”

  “Well, yes, but I’d be more heartbroken about not getting a letter to them. This note means a lot to me right now, but if we can get Nyre to Banesteppe and back safely, then I’ll have an unlimited number of letters to take its place, won’t I?” Sivelle smiled at him and held out the note.

  Haros took it from her hesitantly. “It would be perfect. I bet this letter even smells faintly of the roost where that raven was residing.”

  He held out the parchment to Nyre, who sniffed at it curiously. Her bright eyes lit up and she squawked.

  “I think she recognises that smell,” Haros said, feeling a flurry of hopefulness. “Do you know where you’re going now? You need to go to Banesteppe and find the raven who sent this letter.”

  “Wait, I’ve got another idea!” Sivelle announced, scurrying inside again. This time she was gone much longer and Haros waited patiently, stroking Nyre’s nose.

  When the princess eventually returned, she had a fine silk scarf in her hands. She let the dragonette sniff it for a moment before knotting it around Nyre’s neck. The dragonette squirmed, but tolerated the item of clothing against her.

  “What’s this?” Haros asked, running the smooth silk through his fingers.

  “It’s Lori’s. I’m sure it still smells like her. With your map, my note and Lori’s scarf, Nyre is in with a better chance of finding the right people.”