Chapter 31 A Leash & A Bite #2
Valen’s satisfaction radiated like heat from a forge, warming the space between us with his victory.
He settled back into my father’s chair, one hand casually draped over the armrest, fingers still curled around the end of the leash.
With his other hand, he lifted a goblet of wine, the liquid dark as blood in the candlelight.
“Let us celebrate,” he announced to the hall, his voice carrying easily over the renewed murmurs. “To conquest and... domestication.”
Laughter rippled through the crowd, and the feast resumed as if a momentary pause in a familiar dance had concluded. Servants appeared with wine and platters of food as conversation gradually returned, though many glances still flicked toward me with morbid fascination.
Valen’s hand came to rest possessively on my head, fingers threading through the intricate arrangement of my hair, subtly destroying Kas’s careful work. The touch was both reward and reminder… I had obeyed, but I remained under his control.
No food was offered to me. No wine. I sat in silence as the meal began, acutely aware of every glance, every whispered comment.
Valen ate and drank with apparent enjoyment, engaging in conversation with those nearest him as if nothing were amiss.
Occasionally, his hand would drop to stroke my hair absently, the gesture both possessive and distracted, as one might pet a dog while focusing on other matters.
From my position on the floor, I had a unique vantage point.
I could see beneath tables, notice the nervous shifting of feet, observe which nobles leaned toward each other to whisper comments behind their hands.
I let my gaze drift over the assembled court, cataloging the survivors, noting the faces that were missing.
Almost half of those present were Nocthari, their dark clothing and pale faces marking them as citizens of the Blood Kingdom. They watched me with undisguised curiosity, some with open amusement, a few with something that might have been pity if I believed them capable of such emotion.
But scattered among them were faces I recognized—Vareth nobles who had somehow survived the night of slaughter. Their gazes slid away from mine when I looked at them directly, shame or fear making them unable to meet the eyes of the daughter to their former king.
There, near the center table, sat Lady Elinor, who had once gossiped with Cordelia. Beside her, Lord Talbett, whose political aspirations had always placed him firmly in Ira’s camp. Further down, the Countess of Wesmark, whose daughters had been Cordelia’s closest companions.
All of them had survived while my family had been butchered. All of them now wore the Nocthari colors, their Vareth insignias conspicuously absent, their expressions carefully neutral as they participated in this obscene celebration of their kingdom’s fall.
Traitors… I couldn’t decide if I hated them or envied them.
I narrowed my eyes at them all, but was suddenly distracted by a soft, sultry voice addressing the god who held my leash in his hands.
“Your pet looks hungry, my king,” said the Nocthari noblewoman seated near us.
She was beautiful in the way of her kind—pale as moonlight, with hair like spun copper and eyes of such a dark blue they appeared almost black.
Her gown was the deep crimson of arterial blood, cut to accentuate every curve of her body.
“Perhaps a small morsel? We wouldn’t want her to waste away entirely. ”
She leaned closer to Valen, her perfume—something sharp and floral, like burnt lillies—drifting over me. Her painted lips curved in a smile that held no kindness, only the calculated flirtation I recognized from the court women of my past.
Valen’s hand tightened in my hair, using the grip to turn my face up toward his. His eyes studied mine with clinical interest, as if gauging exactly how much hunger burned behind my carefully neutral expression.
“She’s being trained,” he replied, addressing the noblewoman while continuing to hold my gaze.
“One doesn’t reward an unbroken mount with treats.
It only encourages... disobedience.” His thumb brushed across my bruised lower lip, the touch light enough to seem almost tender to observers.
Only I felt the subtle pressure against the split in the corner of my mouth, the deliberate aggravation of the wound he’d left there.
“Besides,” he continued, releasing my face and returning his attention to his meal, “I’m breaking her in slowly. Too much, too soon could... overwhelm her delicate constitution.”
His meaning wasn’t lost on anyone listening.
A few of the nobles chuckled, their eyes sliding over me with renewed interest, measuring the bruises visible at the edges of my gown, in between my breasts, with fresh understanding.
The noblewoman’s smile sharpened, her gaze traveling over me with the detached curiosity of someone examining an unusual specimen.
“I imagine there’s not much left to overwhelm,” she said, her voice carrying just the right note of sympathy to make the cruelty beneath it all the more pointed. “I’d heard she was rather... used up already.”
Several nobles laughed openly at this, their gazes crawling over me like insects. I kept my eyes firmly on Valen’s, refusing to acknowledge their amusement at my expense. The ember of hatred in my chest glowed hotter, fed by each indignity.
“Appearances can be deceiving, Eriseth,” Valen replied, his tone light but undercut with something darker. “The princess has proven remarkably... resilient. Haven’t you, pet?” His fingers stroked my cheek in a parody of affection.
I said nothing, the silence stretching uncomfortably. Valen’s fingers stilled against my skin, his touch turning from caress to grip in an instant. His nails bit into my jaw as he forced my face up to his.
“I asked you a question,” he said softly, dangerously. “It’s impolite not to answer when your king addresses you.”
The hall had grown quieter, the surrounding conversations dropping to hushed murmurs as attention focused on our exchange. I knew this was part of the spectacle, my humiliation serving as entertainment for his feast. Valen was performing for his new court, demonstrating his absolute control.
I held his gaze steadily, weighing my options. To answer would be to acknowledge my status as his pet, to participate in my own degradation. To remain silent would invite punishment… more than what I already experienced.
My eyes flicked beyond Valen’s shoulder for a mere second, landing on Kassimir standing against the far wall. His eyes were narrowed on mine, and I knew he wanted me to remember his words.
A difference between submission and surrender. It’s a performance. Play your part.
“Yes,” I said finally, the word barely audible as my gaze returned to Valen’s. “I’ve proven resilient.”
Valen’s grip softened, his thumb brushing almost tenderly over the mark his nail had left on my skin. “Louder,” he commanded. “So they can hear you.”
I swallowed hard, the collar shifting against my throat with the movement. “Yes,” I repeated, my voice carrying clearly through the now-silent hall. “I’ve proven resilient.”
A pleased murmur rippled through the watching nobles, Kassimir giving me an almost imperceptible nod of approval. Valen released my jaw, his fingers returning to their possessive stroking of my hair. The softness in his touch made me want to squirm more than his cruelty had.
“Good pet,” he murmured, loud enough for those nearest to hear. “Perhaps you do deserve a reward after all.”
He plucked a small piece of roasted meat from his plate and held it between his fingers, lowering it to my level. The aroma hit me like a physical force—rich, seasoned, glistening with juices. My stomach cramped violently, saliva flooding my mouth before I could control the reaction.
“Open,” Valen said, his voice velvet-soft.
I stared at the offering, at the fingers that held it.
Those same fingers that had taken a whip to my back, that had painted my skin with bruises in the darkness of the dungeon.
The hunger in my belly warred with the revulsion in my mind.
To accept food from his hand, like a trained animal.
.. it was perhaps the most complete surrender he had demanded yet.
But my body, traitor that it was, cared nothing for pride or dignity. Weeks of near-starvation had reduced me to base instinct. With self-loathing burning in my chest, I parted my lips.
Valen placed the morsel on my tongue, his fingers lingering a moment too long against my lips, the invasion deliberate and possessive.
The flavor exploded in my mouth, rich and complex after so long without proper food.
My eyes threatened to close in involuntary pleasure, but I forced them to remain open, fixed on Valen’s face.
I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing how desperately I craved this small offering.
“Chew slowly,” he instructed, as if I were a child learning table manners. “Savor it.”
I obeyed, each movement of my jaw measured and deliberate. The meat practically melted on my tongue, the fat and spices combining into a symphony of flavor that was almost painful in its intensity.
The noblewoman—Eriseth—watched this display with thinly veiled fascination, her dark blue eyes glittering with malice. “How charming,” she murmured, lifting her wine goblet. “Like feeding a stray that might still bite.”
Valen’s smile was all teeth. “Oh, she still bites. Don’t you, pet?” His fingers traced the line of my jaw. “But she’s learning when to bare her teeth and when to... submit.”
Submit. What a word. I would never submit to him.
I swallowed the last of the meat, the rich taste turning to ash in my mouth.
“Perhaps another taste?” Valen suggested, selecting a piece of crystallized fruit from a nearby platter. The sugar coating caught the light, glittering like diamonds as he held it before me. “Sweet this time. For variety.”