Chapter 28 Eviana
EVIANA
“So obedient,” Mansel crooned as he cupped her chin, his thumb swiping across her lower lip. He glanced over the top of her head. “You trained this one well, my Lord.”
“That I did,” Valter said, and she didn’t need to look over her shoulder to know he was seated in his over-large leather chair, likely with an ankle on his knee and cigar in hand. “She’s beautiful, of course, but when she’s on her knees…”
“She’s exquisite,” Mansel finished, that thumb swiping along her bottom lip again as he reached for his zipper with his other hand.
She was prepared to do what she must. It wasn’t anything new, which is why she was surprised when Valter said, “Wait.”
“My Lord?” Mansel asked, hands stilling on his belt buckle.
“I have something to ask of you,” Valter said, and she heard him rise.
“Of course, my Lord. Name it.”
Everything in her went on alert, but she didn’t dare move as Valter approached. His hand smoothed down her hair before he began gathering it one hand, and if she didn’t know better, she’d believe his gentleness was out of affection.
“I would like to borrow her to you for a few days,” he started, and Eviana fought to keep her emotions in check.
This wasn’t new either. She’d been given for a night here and there to seal deals, but Mansel wasn’t someone Valter needed to negotiate with.
If Valter told the male to turn around and bend over, he’d do it without question.
Which also meant whatever Valter was about to ask him to do was going to be something terrible.
“I struck a deal with Desiray,” Valter went on, still holding her hair in one hand. The fingers of his other hand were skating up and down the column of her neck. “I agreed to one of her experiments, provided I get to keep the outcome if favorable.”
Bile rose in her throat, and she fought to keep it down. She knew well enough what Desiray did at the Sirana Villas. She’d visited them several times with Valter, but she was still unsure of what this had to do with her.
“I want you to sire the product,” Valter said to Mansel.
“You want my child?” Mansel asked, a groove forming between his brows.
“You won’t know if things are successful or not,” Valter replied. “You will spend a week in the Villas, and after that, you will know nothing else of the matter.”
“When do I need to decide by?” the male asked, Eviana momentarily forgotten on her knees before him.
“The next hour,” Valter answered. “That’s when I will leave to deliver Eve there.”
She wasn’t thinking when she whipped her head around. Or she tried to. Valter still held her hair, gathered in a fist at the back of her head. He held it tight, keeping her facing forward, and she swallowed down the cry of pain.
My Lord? she asked down the bond. I do not understand.
It is not your place to understand, he snapped, a sharp yank of her hair accompanying the words.
“You want me to get your Source with child?” Mansel asked in surprise, but she didn’t miss the thread of excitement in his tone.
“That is exactly what I want,” Valter said. “Do you accept?”
That other hand was still on her neck, and now those fingers slipped along her jaw, forcing her head up. Mansel’s tongue darted out, running along his bottom lip, a hunger in his eyes.
“Give me an hour to make arrangements at the manor,” Mansel said, his eyes raking over her.
“Done,” Valter said, dismissing him.
The male was already lifting his phone to an ear as the study door closed behind him. Only then did Valter release her hair. But she didn’t rise from her knees. No, she wouldn’t do that until bidden, but she did risk speaking.
“My Lord? Have I displeased you?” she asked, trying to think of anything she might have done to set him off. To deserve this type of discipline.
“Of course not, my flower,” he said, coming around to stand in front of her.
“Then…why?” she asked, willing the tears not to pool in her eyes. He hated when she cried. It showed too much emotion.
“What is the one and only thing I ask of you?” he asked, his tone hardening at her continued questioning.
Her eyes dropped to the floor, bowing her head. “Obedience, my Lord.”
“Exactly. You will do this because it is what I want from you,” he snapped, the sound of his zipper reaching her ears. “Now, give me your mouth before we go.”
She gritted her teeth at the slice of pain, looking down to see the knife still deep in her flesh.
“You always cut too deep,” Lange snapped, snatching the knife out of her hand.
These godsdamn Imps. But pain was the only way to be pulled from their grasp. The Imps made one relive the nightmares of their past, only freeing them when they made an offering of pain.
They all kept knives on them right now for this very purpose, and it was fine. They all healed fast enough, and she’d take the Imps over the Sprytes or the Dread-Nymphs.
“What was it this time?” Lange asked, eyeing the gash on her arm that was still heavily bleeding.
“Nothing,” she replied, holding out her hand for her knife.
“Sure. Just like every other time,” Lange said flatly, ignoring her request.
Eviana just shrugged. It wasn’t her fault they couldn’t keep their misery to themselves when they experienced their worst memories. The gods knew the Imps had plenty of material to choose from in her case.
They kept walking, the forest floor crunching under their shoes and boots as they went.
Corbin had shifted back to his Fae form the morning after they’d entered the woods.
They hadn’t moved much those first few days, instead taking the time to rest and refill their reserves.
The Imps had let them be until the third day. Now they were a daily nuisance.
“Maybe if you talked about it, it would…help,” Lange trailed off when she sent him a dubious look.
“Does talking about your past help?” she retorted dryly.
“Yes.”
She tsked under her breath, rolling her eyes.
Lange didn’t push further, which was just as well.
She had no plans to tell him about the night Valter borrowed her to Mansel for a week.
How, even though she knew it was pointless, she still asked the Lord not to make her do it.
How she was obedient in the end, but Mansel was still so creative in his efforts at the Villas.
How she begged the gods and the Fates that she wouldn’t fall pregnant.
How she’d tried to cry when it was confirmed, her face buried in a pillow while Valter took what he wanted from her, but she’d trained herself not to shed tears long ago.
Talking about any of that wouldn’t help anything, though Lange and Corbin were constantly speaking with each other as if it would. Their voices were always low, especially after an Imp got to one of them. Gentle touches and soft kisses. A comfort to each other.
But she kept quiet, leading the way and letting them follow. She knew it was only a matter of time before a Dread-Nymph found them. Then they’d realize how little talking about it helped.
Slowly the light filtering through the trees started to fade, the woods becoming cooler with each passing hour.
They always held out as long as they could, but when they estimated there was perhaps an hour left of light, that was when they would find a place to stop for the night.
Being in the Dreamlock Woods was risky enough.
Moving about in the dark was downright stupid.
Corbin went off, just out of sight, to gather sticks and wood for a fire.
With his Shifter senses, he was the most capable of finding his way back and sensing danger on his own.
She and Lange worked on clearing a space for the fire and trying to put together some kind of meal.
One would think they’d at least be able to hunt wildlife, but living creatures of all kinds were sparse in the woods.
The animals that were here hid their presence as much as they were trying to keep their own quiet.
“He’s been gone longer than usual,” Lange said, facing the direction Corbin had gone.
“He only left a few minutes ago,” she replied, returning to her task.
“A few minutes? He’s been gone for nearly an hour,” Lange retorted, a breeze blowing through the area with his agitation.
She glanced up at him from where she was fishing various items out of the pack. “You’re being overly dramatic.”
But truly, it had only been five, maybe ten, minutes. Not anywhere near an hour.
“I’m not being dramatic,” Lange bit back, taking a few steps toward the trees. Then he stopped, cocking his head. “Did you hear that?”
“I can’t hear the winds’ chatter,” she muttered. “That is unique to you, Wind Walker.”
“It’s not the winds,” he growled, the breeze becoming gusty now. The water bottles blew over, rolling a few feet away, and Eviana snatched up the packs of food before they were carried away too.
“Lange, stop!” she snapped. “Where are you going?”
Because he was suddenly sprinting, and she didn’t understand what the fuck was happening.
“They found him, Eviana!” he yelled, nearly to the tree line. “Gods, how heartless are you? Can’t you hear him screaming? They’re killing him, and we’re just sitting here!”
“Lange, there’s nothing—”
Godsdammit.
She pressed a palm to the dirt, the tree roots immediately responding and shooting up to snag Lange’s ankle wherever he was beyond the tree line. She’d just lost sight of him, but she heard him cursing as her power dragged him back.
“You planned this too, didn’t you?” he bellowed, clawing at the dirt.
“I didn’t—”