Forever Claimed
Betty Shreffler
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
EPILOGUE
ALSO BY BETTY SHREFFLER
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
FOREVER CLAIMED
Copyright © 2019 by Betty Shreffler
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereinafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording or in any information storage or retrieval system is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. For information email: [email protected]
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Editor: Sandy Ebel, Personal Touch Editing
https://www.facebook.com/PersonalTouchEditing/
Created with Vellum
CHAPTER ONE
FIORA
Awakening to Matheas’s arm around me, his warm body pressed to my back is a bittersweet sensation. With all my heart, I wanted more time with him, to feel his touch, his kiss, to hear his voice again, and now that I have it, I know my time is limited. Soon, Belore will tear me from Matheas’s arms and destroy me once again. A single tear rolls down my cheek. Wiping it away, I refuse to spend my final moments with him in despair. Turning in his arm, I face his beautiful cerulean blues and lean into the caress of his hand on my face.
“I love you.”
“I love you like the day loves the sun.”
Smile curling his lips, he finishes my words, “One cannot be without the other.”
A stray tear escapes me, and with the pad of his thumb, he wipes it away.
“Belore will use me to hurt you. Don’t let him. Don’t give in to him,” he begs me.
“I’d rather die than surrender to him. I know what fate awaits us, which is why I want to cherish every remaining moment I have with you.”
Pulling me to him, he kisses my forehead.
“I’m sorry I failed. All I wanted to do was protect you.”
Placing my hand on his face, I caress his cheek.
“You didn’t fail. You did protect me. You kept me from surrendering to him.”
The door to the bedroom we’re being held captive in slides open. Matheas pulls me to him, his arms protectively surrounding me.
“Get dressed, now!” the Iowan soldier barks.
Behind him are several more arms men, waiting in the hallway. When the soldier doesn’t leave, I realize he intends to remain there and watch. The bedroom we’re being held in has nothing in it but a worn bed and fireplace. Without windows, the room is dark, save the fireplace light. There’s a bathroom attached, but its amenities are the opposite of luxurious with the cold, stainless steel of the toilet and narrow shower.
Matheas’s lip curls, staring down the soldier. He stands first, putting on the black pants and black shirt provided to him. Arms crossed, he makes a wall for me to change behind. The arms man snickers.
“It’s only a matter of time before we get to see everything the Queen has to offer.”
“Until then, you’ll see nothing,” Matheas snaps back.
Based on the injuries to his body, I know he’s suffered beatings and torture, yet it hasn’t broken him. He’s still the same defiant and strong Matheas I know and love. The thought brings a brief smile to my face.
Fully dressed in the blue pants and thin, cream sweater I was brought here in, I slide my hand into his. Bringing my fingers to his lips, he kisses them. Together, we walk out of the room and to the horror that awaits us.
Escorted down the hall and grand staircase, we’re guided through the grand foyer and another hall, leading to an already opened door to a dining room. The ten-person, shiny silver metal table in the center of the room is set for five. The other half is bare; even the chairs have been removed. At the head of the table is Belore, to his left are King Stuart and His Majesty King Beckett. The three of them are freshly bathed, beards trimmed, clothes crisp while Matheas and I look haggard, clothing dirty and wrinkled, our hair unkempt.
An arms man shoves me forward and into a seat, gesturing for Matheas to take the seat next to me. The smug expressions on every man in front of me test my self-control.
“Why Fiora, I believe your father taught you better. You should attend breakfast in more fitting attire,” Stuart mocks, his mouth twisted in a patronizing grin.
Belore raises his hand, gesturing to the arms man behind me. Fist tight on my sweater, he tears the fabric, ripping it from my shoulder and shredding it into two pieces. Releasing it, the fabric falls open, exposing my left breast. My hand rushes to cover it, and the arms man snatches my wrist in his grasp.
“Tsk, tsk, Fiora,” Belore waves his index finger back and forth. “Mind your manners.”
With speed, Matheas launches a fist at the arms man behind me. He drops to the ground, and several more arms men descend on Matheas, punching him or striking him with the butts of their weapons.
“Stop!” I scream, launching myself into the assault to protect him. With a fist to my face, I’m knocked to the floor, my head dizzy, my jaw throbbing with pain.
“Enough,” Belore says easily. “Put them back in their seats.”
Lifted by several hands, I’m slammed into the chair. Matheas’s lip is bloody, his cheek and arms blotched with red. Taking his hand, I lean over, kissing his cheek, giving him the only comfort I can.
“What do you want?” My attention whips to Belore, meeting the gaze of his menacing green eyes. “What do you plan to do with me?”
“I’m waiting for your fiancé to carry out my demands.”
Matheas’s head raises, looking from Belore to me with confusion in his eyes.
“Oh, she didn’t tell you?” Lifting his cup to his thin lips, he smirks behind the glass. “Your whore of a Queen is betrothed to King Ryker. While you’ve been here suffering, she’s been taking him to bed.”
Grip tightening on Matheas’s hand, I look at him with pleading eyes.
“Please understand, I was made to believe you were dead. I accepted a marriage alliance to protect our territory and save my family.”
Matheas wipes a tear from my cheek then meets Belore’s gaze, eyes narrowed.
“If your goal is to have me turn against her, it’ll never work. I understand why she accepted the marriage alliance.”
“Well,” King Stuart puts his hands in the air dramatically, “I feel it’s my duty to inform you, she loves him. Told him as we ripped her from his grasp.”
My eyes close, a painful breath leaving my chest. Matheas caresses my cheek, bringing my gaze to his. I can already see the hurt in them, and it’s tearing me apart.
“Is it true?”
My gaze stays on his, reading every emotion that fills his eyes. With my silence, he reads mine. Chin dropping, he withdraws his hand. The loss of his touch and th
e heartache I saw in his eyes forces heavy tears.
“I never stopped loving you. Not for one second. He knew and accepted it.”
Taking a breath, I see something in him shift. Whether he wants to cry, yell, or fight in a rage, he’s hiding it from them, putting on his soldier face. When he avoids looking at me, my resolve falters. Rising from the chair, I’m swift to gather the fork and lunge at Belore’s neck. Backhanded, I’m knocked on my ass, the metal of the fork screeching as it slides across the floor. Matheas is next to me instantly, picking me up off the floor, holding me to his chest.
“It doesn’t change my love for you.” His warm breath feathers my ear as he whispers.
The comfort of his embrace and the strength in his words bring forth a cascade of tears. Sobbing into his chest, I hold him tight.
“If I’d known you were alive—”
“Shh.” His hand caresses over my hair, soothing me. “I know.”
“This is far better than a theater show,” King Stuart says to the other men.
“Unfortunately, it doesn’t have a happy ending.” Belore’s tone snaps me back to the deadly situation we’re in. “Strip her down.”
Matheas turns, putting me behind him, facing off to the Iowan arms men.
“Fiora, dear,” Belore singsongs, “cooperate with my arms men, or I’ll tie Matheas from his feet and repeatedly dunk him in a pool of water, holding him under until he nearly drowns, over and over and over.”
Placing my hand on Matheas’s shoulder, I step out from behind him.
“It’s all right, Matheas. Please,” I beg.
Eyes pinching closed, his struggle is evident in his tightened brows and clenched jaw.
“I can take it,” he tells me, eyes opening to meet mine.
“You’ve suffered enough.”
Stepping back, I keep my gaze on him as the arms men tear and cut the clothing from me. It takes several of them to hold Matheas back, rage filling his eyes as he watches them drag me to the bare side of the table. The cold steel meets my abdomen as I’m held firmly against it, one soldier’s hand tight on my neck while the other is applying pressure to my back.
“Lay her over the table. Tie her down.”
Keeping my tears at bay, I gather my strength for what’s to come. Shoved forward, my chest is flattened to the cold table, my arms yanked over my head and fastened with leather straps that are secured to the leg of the table. The same straps are placed around my parted ankles, a short chain between them.
Getting up from the table, Belore steps behind me, viewing me. Rough fingers part my cheeks. The stroke of his hand slides between them, a pleasured growl coming from his lips. A knot forms in my throat, followed by nausea as he continues to fondle me, his fingers grazing along my center.
“I can’t take you just yet, but I can still get pleasure from your pain.”
Looking over my shoulder, his menacing eyes bear down on me. Holding his palm face up, a leather riding crop is placed in it. Staring forward, I await the pain. The first strike on my ass cheek jolts me forward on the table, an uncontrollable squeal escaping me. The next strike I’m prepared for and absorb the shock of pain without squealing. The third strike comes on the other cheek, and my eyes widen, but I still fight the tears. Another strike comes harder, and the first tear rolls down my face. On the fifth strike, Matheas loses it, roaring and fighting to get loose. On the sixth strike, more tears come, continuing to fall with each blow of the riding crop. Three more strikes are given before the humiliation and fierce sting of the leather comes to an end. Shoving up against me, Belore presses his erection into my tender, swollen flesh. Leaning over me, he fists my hair, forcing my face to the side.
“That’s just a taste of what’s to come. I’m going to break you, Fiora, and I’m going to take great pleasure in it.”
The weight of his body leaves mine, and I focus on my breathing, trying to calm my unraveled nerves. Glancing down the table, I observe the satisfied expressions on Stuart and Beckett’s smug faces. They enjoyed watching Belore beat me, revealing just how equally twisted they are.
“Get him out of here. Take her to the healing chamber before she scars. I want her ass flawless for her next session.”
The chains clink as the leather straps are unbuckled. Lifted from the table, I’m forced to walk forward, my legs nearly giving out from the pain coming in aggressive waves.
CHAPTER TWO
RYKER
Sitting in the leather chair in my planning room, a clear glass of liquor dangles from my grasp as I stare at no one thing in particular. My thoughts are on Fiora—the night I claimed her as mine, the way our desire detonated, creating an irrevocable bond. At least, that’s what I believed, what my heart felt for her at that moment. When she told me she loved me, I knew I’d do anything to get her back.
Discovering Matheas is alive drew her into his arms, making what we had a forgotten memory. Watching the video, seeing him take her, how much pleasure it brought her has created a repeated cycle of torment within me. Around me, the floor is covered in debris and smashed objects. My rage toward Belore couldn’t be contained. Forcing everyone out of the room, I unleashed, tearing through one thing after another until I was heaving breaths. Filling a glass with liquor, I downed it, then another. With my rage settled, I sat in the chair, remembering what it felt like to have her, to see the emotion in her eyes when she looked at me, the pleasure when I thrust into her. I want it back, but the reality is, I won’t get it. Just when she had become mine, she was ripped from my very arms and given to the man she loved before me.
The automated slide of the door opens, followed by the thud of heavy boots. Picking up Kendrick’s frame in my periphery, I watch him come into view, taking the seat across from me. With a raised brow, he stares at me, his jaw ticking in annoyance.
“Now that you’re finished having your tantrum, what are you going to do?”
Bringing the glass to my lips, I take another drink, the liquor’s effects finally numbing me.
“What would you have me do?”
“You know damn well what Belore will do to her if you end the marriage alliance.”
“She doesn’t want me. What does it matter?”
“I’m going to let your nonsense slide since you’re obviously drunk. Just because she laid with Matheas doesn’t mean she’s suddenly stopped loving you. Belore put them together with the intent to sabotage your marriage. You know this.”
“I was a replacement. A tool to fill a void. The moment she was reunited with him, I was forgotten.”
“If you’d returned to Rakia, and she’d wanted to lay with you and another woman, would you have satisfied her desire?”
Eyes narrowing, I wonder where he’s leading his point.
“Yes.”
“And if she’d wanted to lay with you and me?”
“That’s different, and the answer is no.”
“How is it different? We’ve laid with the same woman together before.”
Slamming the glass down on the tray, I snarl at him.
“I don’t want to share her with another man.”
“Would you rather share her or be a latent participant in her rape and murder and never feel her love again? I know what I’d choose, and I know what you will too, so stop being a pansy and get her back. Once she’s safely returned to you, you can figure out the rest.”
Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees, my gaze harsh and focused on his.
“You want me to risk my life, the safety of my people, my army, my territory, my alliances, all for a woman who will end our marriage and return to her territory with the man she loves?”
Putting his own elbows on his knees, he matches my stare.
“If you don’t believe she’s worth the risk, I wonder if you ever really loved her or knew her at all.”
I’m on my feet instantly, my face in his as he stands and squares off to me.
“How dare you insinuate I didn’t love her? I would’ve done a
nything for her. What I felt for her in the time I had her was greater than my love for Marilyn.”
“Here’s your chance to prove it, and you’re squabbling about the risks.”
“The risks aren’t trivial, Kendrick. I’m a King. I have an entire territory to consider in every action I take.”
Kendrick steps closer, and I stiffen, ready to retaliate. Putting his hand on my shoulder, he looks me in the eyes, no threat of hostility in them.
“You’re afraid. Afraid of getting her back, only to lose her again.”
The reality of his words hit me hard, sobering me, twisting my gut in an angry knot. Brushing his hand off my shoulder, I walk away from him, rubbing at the stress formed at the back of my neck.
“You’re right. I’ve been letting my fear and rage eat away at me, clouding my judgment. Losing Marilyn broke me, and what I feel for Fiora is even stronger. I’m terrified of losing her to Matheas, but I’m a coward if I leave her with Belore. I’d rather lose her and see her happy than for her to suffer his torture.”
Kendrick dips his chin at me, his expression approving.
“Now you sound like the man I know. So, tell me. What are you going to do?”
“Destroy the man who took my fiancée from me.”
“Then let’s not waste any more time.”
CHAPTER THREE
FIORA
Stepping out of the healing tube, I search for clothing but find none. The large, grizzly arms man standing by the healing chamber door smirks at me.
“King Belore insists you remain nude.”
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