Chapter 19
Chapter
Nineteen
I rested my head on my knees for who knew how long, stirring only when the door opened. I straightened as Mathen stopped in the threshold, expression grave.
“It's time, Lady.”
I nodded stiffly and slipped off the bed, walking towards him with as much poise as I could manage.
I'd put these people in danger. People I was coming, inexplicably, to love with a fierceness I hadn't thought I was capable of outside of my family—and I'd left Hawaii to pursue dance. I hadn't looked behind, or doubted, once.
I stared at his shoulder, clasping my hands at my waist. “I owe you an apology.”
Mathen slid fingers under my chin, lifting my head, and searched my eyes.
“When we thought—” he faltered, russet eyes darkening. “—when we thought the worst, when Drei screamed. . .Anali. You can’t understand how quickly, how fiercely the Fae can love. Not when we maintain the fiction we can’t and don’t. But please. Never leave me behind again.”
I closed my eyes, pressing my lids against the heat of tears. More tears. Always tears. What grown woman of thirty years cried this much? Of course Andrei would laugh himself silly at the “grown” bit. To him I was barely legal.
I leaned forward, resting my forehead on Mathen’s chest. They could all stand to lose a few inches of height. His thick arms came around me in a bear hug and lifted me off my feet, nestling his cheek to mine.
“If you were ever taken and seriously hurt it would kill me,” he said. “Either because you were taken over my dead body?—”
“Which I agree would be uncomfortable.”
“—or because I’d fall on my sword from my failure.”
“Equally unpleasant.”
“Anali.” He shook me gently. “Do you understand? Don't leave me behind.”
Mathen drew back, searching my eyes again, and placed my hands against his shoulders.
“Whatever you need, tell me. I know our Lord can be. . .overwhelming. And sly. So sweet you can’t help but forgive him.” He grinned. “But I'm yours now, your guard. Tell me, and I'll stand between you.”
“You did nothing when he started labeling my thermos with hourly hydration goals. Mathen. He fusses over my water intake .”
The grin lit Mathen’s eyes. “Eventually he’ll let you breathe on your own again. He’s spiraling, Anali, and the bonding rut doesn’t always manifest as violence and snarling.” He paused. “We stopped him from color-coordinating your socks and leggings when you were meditating the other night.”
He said it like I should give him brownie points. “Please get him a pet.”
Mathen pursed his lips, but didn’t say what I knew he was thinking.
I was the pet. If Andrei produced a collar and leash and started taking me on walks, I would. . .have to do something drastic. But I wouldn’t be at all surprised.
Sighing, I wrapped my arms around Mathen’s neck, hanging my weight on him. He didn’t budge, of course, which was annoying. My brothers had at least faked the occasional stagger.
“I love you too, Mathen. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I. . .manipulated you. It wasn't honorable, and it wasn't respectful.”
He chuckled, a bit of a rogue in his expression. “It was a shock. Why didn't you tell us you were lamia-born? It would have been fun if I’d been expecting it.”
“Run that by me again?”
He lowered his brows. “You spun a compulsion over me like. . . oh. ” His voice changed. “You don't know.”
“Mathen. . .”
“No, if you don't know, I'm not going to be the one to tell you. Our Lord will.” He paused, his smile going crooked. “You will have to learn to control it, Anali.” He squeezed my hands. “Please don’t use it against one of us again. You have to let us protect you.”
Lamia-born? Sounded like another distraction to me. I took a deep breath, released it, and straightened my shoulders. Time to refocus. “Punishment time. Let's get this over with.”
I assumed he was here to lead me to Andrei. The smile faded and he nodded, solemn.
“No matter what happens, Anali, it's worth it. Anything is worth having you back safe and. . .in one piece.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. He spoke as if he meant that literally. In one piece.
I recalled bits of Ashlyun and Andrei’s conversation. . .and shuddered.
Mathen led me to the inner courtyard, holding my hand as we walked through the halls.
When we stepped outside, he released me and strode towards Lord Andrei, who waited in the center.
The entire three-story townhouse faced inward, surrounding the white stone plaza with trees and flower beds carefully cultivated to maintain a wild appearance.
When I began to follow, an arm slid around my shoulders from behind, pulling me against a feminine chest.
“Nope nope, stay here, Lady,” Philea said.
She was about my height, one of Andrei’s luudthen, which meant one of his former lovers.
A Cassanian woman with a mischievous temper, blood red curls framing a gamine, onyx skinned face, she'd broken Constin’s wrist in training the other day, so her medium stature didn’t fool me. The arm draped lightly across my collarbones could tighten around my neck in a flash and headlock me.
“What's going on?” I asked, resting my back against her.
Philea might look dainty, but she wasn't. She braced my weight easily, her chin resting on my shoulder.
“Mathen didn't tell you?” There was a cold-blooded quality to how cheerful she sounded. “Punishment.”
“But I thought I was being punished.”
“Oh, that’ll come, cupcake, no worries. But he's first.”
“What? What did he do?” Outrage warmed my voice. I could handle my own punishment, but Mathen hadn't done anything wrong.
“He let you leave. He succumbed to a baby succubus.” The cheer didn’t entirely conceal the steel. “His job’s to protect you, and he failed. You were taken. There's consequences, boo boo.”
“But it's not his fault!” I exclaimed, my voice carrying.
Andrei and Mathen turned, Mathen’s expression resolute, Andrei’s emotionless. Mathen glanced beyond me, presumably meeting Philea's eyes, and she tightened her arm.
“Yup. Come on, girl,” she said, nipping my earlobe. Hard. “Pussy up. If you fuss it’ll distress the males, and they're already difficult enough to deal with.”
I stiffened my muscles in order to remain still as Mathen knelt, calmly removing his shirt. Constin strode forward?—
“No!”
I threw myself forward, trying to break Philea’s hold but she didn't even grunt, easily keeping me still.
I wasn't weak. I strength trained, I conditioned my body. I wasn't weak. But she wasn't any less physically strong than the men.
She held me still. “Don’t make me pin you to the ground. That’s not how I want to go down our first time.”
“Andrei, don't do this,” I said as he took the whip from Constin and unfurled it. “I'll never forgive you.”
Andrei and Constin exchanged a glance, then looked at Mathen with a clear nonverbal demand to handle the human. Mathen's shoulders rose as he inhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Hasannah,” Mathen said in a firm voice. “This is going to happen. You have to be strong, Anali. I told you it would be all right.”
He was the one about to be whipped, but he was trying to comfort me . It shamed and forced me to calm down. I closed my eyes and didn't open them until I'd composed myself.
When I did, I nodded, and Andrei turned back to Mathen.
“Twenty lashes, luudthen,” the High Lord said quietly. “I don't think she can bear any more.”
For a paralyzing second I hated him, hated Andrei. But I set my jaw and watched. Witnessed the consequences of my mistake.
Watched as Andrei whipped Mathen, each blow hard and heavy, his full strength behind the strike. Mathen barked out the count, unfaltering as blood bloomed on his back.
Twenty didn’t seem like much, but when the whip was wielded by Andreien. . .
By the fifteenth strike, Mathen’s voice faltered, once. Voices rose in the courtyard, bolstering him, taking up the count on his behalf.
When it was over, Philea released me and I ran forward, dropping on my knees in front of him, but not touching.
“Mathen. Mathen. ”
He lifted his head, eyes clouded, and tried to smile. Mathen reached out his hands and I clasped them.
“I’m fine, Anali,” he said, and his voice sounded almost normal.
I squeezed. “I know you are. You’re the strongest person I know.”
He chuckled, then winced. “I’m not, but you’re kind to say so.”
“Hasannah,” Andrei said, and his continued remoteness warned me.
I turned slowly, still on my knees, and looked up. “High Lord?”
He met my gaze. “And now, you.”
My breath came in shallow pants. “Fine. If Mathen can endure it, so can I.”
Mathen inhaled sharply. “He’s not going to whip you.” He sounded scandalized. “We are not barbarians.”
Well, excuse me.
Andrei dropped the whip. “I won’t whip you this time. It’s a first offense. Leniency is called for.”
Theland placed an armless wood chair behind Andrei, who beckoned to me. “Come, Hasannah.”
I rose, staring at him as he sat straight backed on the stool.
“Mathen failed his duty,” Andrei said, “but you placed yourself in danger, and therefore all of us and the House as well.”
I wet my bottom lip, moving to stand in front of him.
“What are you going to do?” I had a decent idea. My imagination wasn’t as poor as Constin thought.
“Do you agree to the punishment, Hasannah?” he asked, gaze inscrutable. The High Lord, not my bonded.
How could I say no after tonight? After listening to the negotiations, after knowing how many people could have died? After watching Mathen be punished for the crime of being manipulated by me?
“I agree.”
He slid hands around my hips and drew me down, draping me on my front over his lap.
“Twenty strikes,” he said. “By my hand.”
Andrei pulled my gown up, exposing my thighs and buttocks as I tensed, bracing myself. My hair fell to cover my face, and my humiliation.
Well-deserved humiliation. I derived certainty from the image of Mathen, kneeling and silent and proud, accepting the consequences of his perceived error.
It wasn’t fair.
“It’s not fair,” I said.
Andrei’s palm settled on my bare buttock. “You agreed.” His voice, now, was even chillier.
I struggled to push up. “I do agree. It’s not fair Mathen took the whip and I—” I faltered, glancing at the hand that had fallen to his side. “That I take a hand. Like a child.”
He studied me. “You are a child. It’s an appropriate punishment.”
“I’m not a child. Or I wouldn’t be here. Unless you take children as consorts.”
Not even that filthy, pointed insult moved him. His eyes, the alien expression behind them, didn’t alter. “You want me to whip you?”
“I want equity.”
“This is equity, Lady.” Mathen stood, the warning in his voice directed at Andrei. “A whip is not for you. You are new to our customs and young and. . .more easily harmed. A hand is appropriate. Trust me, it won’t be without pain.”
Andrei waited.
I twisted to glare at Constin. “Don’t lie to me.”
He lifted a brow, then nodded.
“Is it fair?”
“It’s fair.” Constin paused. “Let’s learn to toddle, Anah. There will be plenty of future opportunities for correction.” Dark amusement flitted across his face. He’d loosed his hair, and the silvery strands framed his cheekbones and streamed over his shoulders. “Especially if you turn out like Theland, and enjoy getting in trouble on purpose.”
I wasn’t going to think about that. “All right.” I settled back down.
Andrei placed his hand on my buttock, caressed the skin. “Keep count,” he said, then struck.
I hadn’t been prepared; I cried out. Bà m? nó. It hurt. The boys hadn’t been kidding.
Another strike, on the same cheek. Another until my skin burned and he transferred to the other buttock, then my thighs. The strikes fell swift and merciless as if in time to a pedometer.
I jerked and wriggled, all of my training and muscle control evaporating under the fire of Andrei’s spanking. I forgot embarrassment, forgot resentment because there was nothing but pain.
It wasn’t like in the books, where the spanking aroused the woman and ended in hot sex. No; it was just painful, and bleak.
And then it was over.
I came back to myself, realized Mathen was holding my hand, whispering to me.
“You did so well, my Lady.” He lifted his free hand, tucking hair behind my ear. “It’s over, darling.”
He was bleeding , and he worried about me and a little spanking; I laughed, the sound odd to my ears.
“ Anali. ” Mathen settled his hands on my shoulders, began to massage. “My Lord, she. . .”
“Will think twice before compelling and abandoning her guard again,” the High Lord said.
Andrei hauled me up, draping me so I straddled his lap, my chest pressed against his. He was still distant; I sensed it, but he held me tightly, caressing my skin where it burned.
My tears soaked his shoulder, and it took me a while to stop shaking.
“Take her to sleep, Drei,” Constin said, his voice quiet. “It’s over now. You can return to yourself.”
Andrei shuddered.