Puffed up and full of himself, Lorren’s father emerged through the pack of bulky men. Errion should have been surprised to see him, but he wasn’t. After all this time, Lorren’s father had finally found a way to get them into trouble.
“Where is Lorren?”
Errion lifted his brows as if the question was completely beyond his understanding. “Who?”
That classic little moue of disgust twisted his features. “I can’t wait to see his face when I tell him that both of you are being arrested.”
Errion knew Lorren’s father would walk through fire to see Lorren punished. In all his life, Errion had never met a man who despised his son as much as Master D’Buren loathed Lorren.
“Arrested?” Errion laughed. “What for this time?”
“Abducting the daughter of an empress is considered high treason.” He delivered the news with his hands holding the lapels of his gut-straining jacket. His poor tailor simply couldn’t keep up with the man’s ever-expanding belly.
“We didn’t abduct Farjika. She came here of her own free will.” Lowering his voice, Errion quipped, “And she came many, many times.”
“You are a disgusting deviant.” He spit at his face but missed when Errion swiveled sideways, which caused the man behind him to yank on his bonds. “Whatever Lorren saw in you is baffling.”
“He saw himself in me. And I mean that in both literal and figurative terms.”
Once Master D’Buren untangled his verbal barb, he shook his head and expelled one of his dismissive little sighs. “Finally, after all this time, you will be punished for your perversions.” Brushing a piece of non-existent lint off his sleeve, he faced Errion with haughty superiority. “What kind of brutal degenerate abducts and rapes an innocent young woman? Why, she’s barely of legal age!”
Lorren’s father had levied all kinds of outrageous charges at them but never one this absurd. Errion edged his tone with ice. “If anyone here has a penchant for young girls, I would say that would be the man who married the girl intended for his son.”
Errion wished he could capture the look of shame that washed across Master D’Buren’s arrogant face. In a heartbeat, he returned to his typical posture of disdain. “As if my son could have been a man to Shyla.”
“Lorren would never pluck fruit that wasn’t ripe.” Digging his big toe into the carpet, Errion smiled wickedly. “But I guess when you get old and your dick is flabby, it takes a raw one to fire up the juice.”
Watching him struggle to maintain his dignity was mighty fun and likely the last amusement he would have for a while.
“Where is Lorren?”
“Your son isn’t here.”
“He’s only my son by accident.”
“He’ll be thrilled to hear it.” Errion sighed. “But back to the matter at hand. You know we didn’t rape her.”
Presuming that the guards didn’t understand anything they said, Master D’Buren leaned close enough for Errion to smell the brandy on his breath. “I know that, and you know that, but even if the girl says that, her father is still going to crush you two like the vermin you are.” He glanced down the hallway, presumably in the direction they’d taken Farjika. “She was found naked, her nose bloody, restraint marks all over her body…” He shrugged, lifting his bulk up high before dropping it so heavily Errion swore he heard the man’s knees scream in protest. “I think no matter what she says, you two will finally have your comeuppance.”
Errion let the information sink in. “What is it, exactly, that bothers you about us?” Not that the answer mattered so much right now, but it mattered to Lorren, and Errion would be honored to provide him with the answer to that most baffling question. “What really bothers you about our relationship?”
“You don’t have a relationship; you have an abomination.”
“Because he likes to put his dick in me, or that he likes my dick in him?” Honestly perplexed, Errion had pondered the question many times. Oftentimes he and Lorren would consider various answers in the aftermath of mind-blowing sex that left them pleasantly exhausted.
“You’re sick.”
“For wanting to put my dick in your son? You like to put yours in little girls, so who’s to say—”
The guard holding him saw the fist coming and flung Errion bodily to the side as he palmed the blow. Muttering something in his native tongue, the guard pushed Master D’Buren away.
Flustered, Lorren’s father took great care with his clothing, touching himself everywhere to ensure he was still properly dressed and perfectly presentable. With a shaking hand, he slicked back his surgically enhanced full head of hair.
“Looks like they want me to keep my face pretty.” Errion tossed back his hair, letting it artfully tumble back and partially obscure his gaze.
“For now.” Turning his back, Master D’Buren strode over to the head guard, who had just returned with a group of men.
They spoke slowly, using a digital interpreter, rarely used because of their frequent and potentially dangerous errors.
Both Master D’Buren and the head guard darted glances at him, but Errion refused to stand chagrined like a naughty schoolboy who’d been dragged before the headmaster. Errion hadn’t done anything wrong. Well, nothing too terribly wrong. On second thought, he realized that but for his holding the images over Farjika’s head, none of this would have happened. If anyone should be punished, it should be him. However, telling this to Lorren’s homophobic father wouldn’t help matters in the slightest. All Errion could hope for was an opportunity to throw himself at Farjika’s father’s feet and beg for Lorren’s release and mercy for himself.
Errion called for his commbot, but it wouldn’t respond. He frowned. “I’m allowed a call to my barrister.”
Just before he disappeared down the hall with the head guard, Master D’Buren tossed back over his shoulder, “You’re not going to need one where you’re going. The Diolans handle legal matters quite differently than we do.”
Closing his eyes, Errion took the statement exactly as intended: a clear and deliberate threat. He wasn’t about to tell them where Lorren was, but eventually, they would discover him and Gabriyel in the prison. Most likely, it would be the last place they’d even think to look. The only other thing Errion could do to delay the inevitable was to refuse to give them the key.
So far, the guard holding him hadn’t bothered to search him. In his front pocket, the key felt unnaturally heavy. But the question about how and why they were here weighed far more heavily on his mind: who had called for Farjika’s guards?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Surrounded by several maids, Farjika wasn’t forced but rather compelled to bathe and dress under the watchful eye of several burly guards. These were not the guards that had accompanied her on her mission to Avalith; her father newly sent these men. Under his orders, they refused to answer her questions or follow her commands. All she’d been able to ascertain was that when she didn’t follow her strict check-in schedule, and the captain of her guard, Gabriyel, had disappeared, her father panicked. Fearing for her safety, he sent a veritable armada of troops to Avalith to retrieve her.
Terrified of an interstellar incident, the governing body of Avalith charged her diplomatic liaison, Master D’Buren, with the task of locating her. After her display at his charity ball, she didn’t think it was difficult for him to determine where she might be.
Given the combative nature of the relationship between Lorren and his father, one she didn’t know the details of, she couldn’t imagine how this would hurt Lorren. She completed her ablutions as slowly as possible so that she could try to think of a way out of this mess. Through it all, she felt Gabriyel and Lorren fighting in the cell below.
Their antagonism clashed power in her body. She knew when they’d stopped, because her headache lessened and her nose stopped bleeding. After awhile of strange conflicting energies swirling within, she knew when the tide had turned and the two strong men had embraced each other, because she fe
lt their energies resonate at the same pitch. Their rough passion stirred her blood, wetted her passage and caused her to waver on her feet.
In the next room, Errion stood dealing with Lorren’s father. If she could get him away from them, he could soothe her sudden need. But that was impossible. Touching his mind, she felt Errion’s pride at tormenting the elder D’Buren but also his anguish for his actions placing all the events in motion. She tried to console him, but the new and frightening demands of her body held her in thrall. Regardless of everything they’d done over the course of the evening, Farjika needed another release, and she needed it soon. Unwillingly she had siphoned off some of Lorren’s and Gabriyel’s energy. She needed to discharge the excess.
Farjika leaned against the bathroom wall, her hand over her face as she ordered the maids and guards out so that she could use the basin. One guard ensured there was no way in or out of the room but for the main door, then left her alone.
Turning her back on the wall, pressing against the textured purple surface, she closed her eyes and lifted her dress. Sliding her panties down, she smoothed her fingers across her dripping sex. Her own hand and mind weren’t enough, so she compelled Errion’s attention, as he was the closest to her.
Willingly, he infiltrated her thoughts when he sensed the frantic nature of her need.
“I have never met a more insatiable woman.”
Even though he was in the next room, she could see his wicked smirk and his flashing green eyes below the shaggy ends of his glittering blond hair.
Quietly she chuckled. “It’s not my fault.”
In her mind’s eye, Errion dropped to his knees between her trembling thighs. Her fingers took the place of his actual tongue, swirling over her clit, slipping up into her passage.
“You taste like the sweetest brandy-soaked baru on the entire planet.”
Lost in pleasure, Farjika cupped his face with her hands, watching him as he flicked his tongue over her clit, his eyes intense, his fingers big, wide and plunging into her dripping core. Farjika came so hard she had to turn her head to the side and bite the towels hanging there to stifle her scream. Below her fingertips, her clit quivered as her cunt gushed, soaking her panties beyond repair.
“They will know what you were doing in here.” Errion looked up from the floor. “Unless you tell them that instead of climaxing all over them, you wet your tiny little panties that reek of your musk.”
Farjika shook her head. “Perhaps I’ll use them to bond to another man. One whiff and I think I can–”
“Don’t you dare add another man to this already packed mess!” Errion’s plea reverberated in her head.
“I wasn’t serious.”
With a sigh, Errion released from her mind with a final caution. “I think Gabriyel is going to try to take all the blame. I’m getting a strange feeling from below, and I don’t mean in my trousers.”
After a chuckle, she felt what Errion was talking about. A note of finality, of determined self-sacrifice, infused her mind, and the energy signature belonged to Gabriyel. The last thing she would allow was Gabriyel to throw himself into the fire of her father’s fury. Setting herself to rights, disposing of the soaked panties by burying them in the trash, she flushed the basin and opened the door.
“Where is the captain of your guard?”
The lesser soldier posed the question to her as soon as the door cracked open. Dismissing him with a lift of her chin, Farjika stepped forward. To her shock, he placed his calloused hand against her upper chest, the edges of his palm pressing against her breasts. Flaring nostrils filled with her scent as his hand grasped her waist. Gripping her hips, he yanked her to him, rubbing his stiff prick against her belly.
Shocked and frightened, Farjika overreacted by jamming the palm of her hand to his face, bashing his nose up toward his brain. Screaming, he flailed his arms as he flinched back. Several other guards stepped forward, grabbing him before he could try to touch her again. Wisely, she kept her distance from all of them. Apparently, the scent of her climax clung to her. Any man who came close wouldn’t be able to resist.
When two approached her, she lifted her hand. “Don’t come any closer.” She didn’t want to enthrall another man to her. She didn’t think she or the other three could handle one more. Getting Gabriyel and Lorren to merge had been difficult enough. “There is something wrong with me, a sickness, that made him touch me.”
Puzzled, they all stood at a distance considering her and what she said.
“Your father demands your return.”
“I am willing to go peacefully, but I will not be touched. Nor will I allow any of the prisoners to be harmed.”
Bowing, the guard informed the others. Farjika returned to the bathroom and washed again. This time she found one of Lorren’s colognes and splashed it liberally over her body. The masculine scent smelled good on him but strange on her. Still, it had the desired effect. When the guards came close, the scent repelled them away. She smelled wrong to them now, and that was just what she wanted.
Eventually they extricated Lorren and Gabriyel from the cell, dressed them, bound them and then escorted them to the skip waiting on the grounds. Heedless of the damage, her new captain, a man named Roland, had destroyed a good portion of the garden with his landing. With a final glance back, she entered the skip, knowing in her heart that she’d never see Avalith again.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Gabriyel sat on another prison bed. This one was bigger, more comfortable and far cleaner than the one on Avalith. His cell consisted of a cot, a basin, and surprisingly, a shower. It dispensed cold water at a bare trickle, but at least he’d been able to wash himself after his encounter with Lorren.
Reaching out with his mind, he tried again to connect to any of the other three but failed. He had no idea how they were or where they were. All he knew was that he had done his best to convince them to let him take the blame.
Since he was going to die anyway, it didn’t make sense for all three of them to perish. “Someone has to survive for Farjika. If her father can expend his wrath on me, you will escape relatively unscathed. Once he recognizes your positions, he will allow Farjika to select you as consorts.”
Even though Errion hadn’t been in the room, Gabriyel saw him shake his head. In his mind, Errion said, “Who’s to say that Farjika won’t be able to convince him that she wants all of us? Don’t be so quick to martyr yourself, my friend. Have a little faith.”
Faith was something that Gabriyel had lost the moment he’d violated Farjika. He loved her, but he’d done the wrong thing. He hadn’t protected her. That was something her father couldn’t forgive. Drahka was a warrior with a strong sense of duty. He would never excuse Gabriyel for failing his orders. In the quiet honesty of his own soul, Gabriyel couldn’t forgive himself either. What he’d said to Lorren had been true; he didn’t regret what he’d done, but that didn’t make it right either.
Convinced that Gabriyel would commit suicide, Roland had him and his cell stripped of all fabrics. He’d been allowed only a small towel with which to dry his body. As soon as he finished with his shower, they took that away too. Shivering as he sat on the bed, Gabriyel was certain that Roland had also lowered the temperature in his cell. This prison was a bit different in that bars did not make up the front wall. Enclosed by gray metal on all six sides, Gabriyel felt a little claustrophobic. A camera and a communication unit above the door allowed his jailer to look in on him at any moment. Not that he was giving them anything to look at. Calmly, he sat and awaited his fate.
Twice Roland had tried to engage him in conversation, but Gabriyel refused to answer, no matter how vile he became. It was the verbal equivalent of turning his back on him. Refusing to fall for his baiting infuriated him. Gabriyel knew that Roland wanted to enter his cell and pummel him, but Drahka’s orders were clear—all the prisoners were to be taken to Diola unharmed. Gabriyel figured Drahka wanted to reserve the pleasure of beating him bloody himself. Even though Drah
ka was twice his age, the man was still a formidable opponent. Gabriyel was considered large amongst the men of Diola, but Drahka was bigger. And he would have the power of righteous anger on his side. Gabriyel decided he wouldn’t even defend himself. He’d let her father pound away at him. Perhaps it would make the crushing by the stones go faster.
In a surprisingly kind manner, Lorren had stepped forward to take the blame. “It was my fault you did what you did. I made you.”
“You made me do what I wanted to do.”
“Still, if I hadn’t have pushed, none of this would have happened.”
While Gabriyel appreciated his attempt to take the blame, his conscience would not allow him such an escape. Besides, all of this was academic anyway. Gabriyel already knew that Lorren and Errion would not be executed. Drahka did not want to create such a vile image among the galactic community by killing two men from a peaceful world. But someone had to pay for the abduction and violation of the man’s daughter. Gabriyel was the perfect person to punish. The other guards who had failed to protect Farjika did so on his orders. They acted in the right by following the commands of their superior. Gabriyel shouldered all the responsibility.
“I can’t believe you are so eager to throw everything away.”
Her voice catapulted him to his feet. He wasn’t hearing her in his mind but over the communication unit. When the door slid open and she entered, he was convinced he was hallucinating.
Wrapped in the gleaming white robe of an acolyte, Farjika closed the door behind her. “I’m here to give you absolution.” One brow rose high and her smirk reminded him of Errion.
Despite his melancholy feelings, he smiled. “Somehow I cannot see you as a devotee of the gods.” He glanced up at the camera over the door. “And speaking of seeing.”
She followed his gaze. “I deactivated it.”
Arms outstretched, she rushed to embrace him, but he shook his head and stepped back. “Do not make a bad situation worse.”
Dark Empress: The Onic Empire, Book 5 Page 24