Piper
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Iwas not risking him dragging me and the resulting damage to my body, so I put every bit of strength into keeping pace with him.
Which was difficult when one was attempting to keep her hair from billowing around her. I could not have that. Everyone would see the scabbed-up fang punctures. At least, if he was going to bite me, he could have the courtesy to bite me on the Sigil, where it was less notable.
Within a short time, I followed him down the staircase, through the front double doors, and past the steps leading up to the Citadel.
He followed the pebbled path several paces until it branched off through the grass. As I half-sprinted behind him, the panels of my dress fluttered around my legs. The freedom of the air in my hair, of my bare throat . . . I had not realized what a weight the metal had been around my neck.
The stable came into view and spawned hope. He was taking me to see Piper. Had she been kept there?
I had been parted from her for nearly a third of a moon rotation now. Soon, the bond would begin to wither.
The pathway branched off again, and he strode down the opposite direction, weaving around the back of the stables until rounding toward a small outbuilding.
The pebbled pathway led to the front steps.
From the outside—the slanted, pointed roof, the front porch, the well-kept walnut-stained wood—the place seemed decent enough.
Hooks lined the outside of the structure, meant for tying horses. As we neared, warmth at my sternum stirred. I was close to her. My pace quickened.
Lord Draven’s steps thundered on the porch, and he had to duck his head to enter. Mercifully, he could stand at full height once inside.
I scanned for any sign of Piper.
Tack hung along the walls, everything needed for the horses. A chitter from behind me had me whirling.
“Piper?” An iron cage hung in a dark corner of the chamber.
‘Amara?’ She slinked out from under the wood chips she’d had her head shoved into. I ran over to her, my fingertips grazing the edge of the cage, causing it to sway on the creaky chain bolted to the ceiling.
Not even a blanket? They shoved her in here on the uncomfortable chips as if she had no consciousness, as if she was nothing.
“What conditions are these?” I whirled on Lord Draven who had not moved. Rage drove me, so I could not contain my reaction. Storming up to him, I shoved his chest.
“I refuse to do anything until she’s properly cared for,” I hissed, seething.
“Do what you will to me, but she deserves peace in her last moon rotations before everything she has ever known is torn away from her.” He had not moved since I’d charged him.
He studied me, flicking those odd eyes over my face.
What is he thinking? “Lord Draven,” I begged, clenching his tunic.
I held my breath, waiting. My grip trembled.
A muscle bunched at the side of his jaw before he returned his focus to Piper. Then he clasped my chin, lifting my face higher, his fingers unyielding.
“I will do this for you,” he finally said. “Spend time with your creature, redblood.” My lips parted on an exhale. “It is one of the last you will have.”
The swell of gratitude shriveled.
“I will return to collect you.”
He released me, and his heavy steps retreated with the slam of the cabin door. I burst back toward the cage, my hands shaking as I gripped the bars, searching for the latch. They did not have a lock. That would aid me when I could leave this place.
Piper fully came out from under the chips, pressing her little face against the bars. It took a bit of twisting to undo the latch with all the divots I had to navigate it out of.
‘You should leave now before he returns!’
She did not know that Lord Draven had the place well guarded, but even if I could escape, I would never leave her behind. Finally, I wiggled the little metal clasp up, and the cage was open.
She burst out, and I caught her, hugging her to my chest as she squeaked with excitement. Small particles of dust clung to her fur.
‘I missed you so much. What has been happening? Did those bastards hurt you?’
“You are the one locked in a cage. Have they fed you?” I held her up in front of me, bracing her long body with both my hands.
‘Nasty little pebble things.’ She sniffed, lifting her snout. I snorted and hugged her to my chest, where I felt her most keenly. Warmth spilled from my breastbone the moment I held her—the bond mended, the moon rotation we could bear apart restarting. I let out a steady breath.
‘What are we going to do? The workers who come in here talk a lot. They say horrid things about you, Amara.’
“Like what?”
‘That you will be consumed and it will hurt.’ Her little claws pressed into my arm. ‘I am scared.’
“Nothing will happen to us, Piper,” I whispered, hugging her tighter to my chest so I could be as quiet as possible. “I have a plan.”
‘Of course you do. You always do.’ The confidence in her tone should have made me feel better. “Amara . . . are those bites on your neck?”
I closed my eyes and held myself very still.
The door creaked open, and I whirled toward it.
A dark-haired man with wide shoulders and a broad nose entered.
He wore a linen shirt stained with dirt in a few areas, his sleeves rolled up to show his bulging arms. Trousers hugged his legs and were tucked into his leather boots.
He wiped his hands on a cloth, eyebrows lifted as he hummed and closed the door.
“Oh, that’s why Officer rod-up-his-back is standing guard.” He clicked his tongue. “Usually it’s Billy watching the creature.”
He jerked his chin at Piper.
I stiffened my arms around her, narrowing my eyes.
‘This one never says anything really.’ Piper’s voice filled my head. ‘But I did watch him doing all manner of indecent things with a maid.’
I snorted, but studied him.
The stable boy had to be a few annum rotations younger than me, despite his size. He passed the linen piece to one hand and tucked it into his belt. The loamy smell of horses and musk reached my nose as he approached.
“Name’s Damien Rinx.”
I slowly reached my hand out to touch his. “Mr. Rinx, I am—”
“I know who you are, Miss Nadien. Call me Damien.” He lifted the tips of my fingers up until his lips touched the back of my hand. “No time for niceties when you do not have much time.”
I pursed my lips. The words were blunt and brash, but not false.
“Damien—”
A shadowed form entered so fast it was a blur, then Damien went flying into the wall, falling into a mass of linen and sprawled limbs. One of the saddles fell off and smashed him over the head, rendering him unconscious.
Lord Draven’s wide frame loomed before me, his shoulders heaving.
“Drusilla, take the creature and allow her a feeding and a bath. When you return her to her cage, ensure she has comfortable bedding.”
Lady Drusilla strode through the doorframe with a polite mask on her face. Panic made me stumble back, and I frantically looked around. She was almost to me. I wound around her and went to Lord Draven’s side, bunching the sleeve of his tunic.
Lord Draven sneered and bared his fangs. He plucked Piper from my grip by the scruff along the back of her neck and lifted her to shove her back toward Lady Drusilla. I gasped, lunging forward to reach for her before I could think to stop myself.
Lord Draven clamped my nape, stopping me in my tracks.
‘I will be fine, Amara.’ Her voice, soft and frightened, echoed in my head. Lady Drusilla’s nose twitched, an obvious look of distaste on her face.
“I swear, if you harm her, I will find a way to kill you while you sleep.” The violent words bubbled free.
My threat did not faze Lady Drusilla.
“I cannot promise anything if the creature bites me.” She studied my neck too closely, so I shook my hair out to better veil myself.
“Behave,” I croaked at Piper.
She chittered as Lady Drusilla carried her out, holding her long body with both hands and away from her chest.
I wheezed out a breath and whirled to bunch the front of his tunic, looking up at him beseechingly.
“Please, Lord Draven. Please,” I begged. My throat felt too tight. He looked down at me, expressionless, but he stopped. “She’s everything to me. If something happens to her . . .”
A muscle ticked in his cheek. “I will ensure she is well cared for while you both are here.”
That was all he would give me.
And it was enough for now.
“In the time I exist, you mean.” My lips twisted wryly.
He’d given only an inch, but it was a victory. If he would capitulate for this, it meant he had some semblance of compassion in him. “Thank you.”
Lord Draven stiffened, causing his shirt to tauten in my grip. His eyes searched mine.
A groan ripped from the direction Damien had flown toward. His foot twitched, and he groaned again. I exhaled slowly. He was alive. I could not be too sure with the Warlord’s strength taken into account.
“Damien?” I called tentatively, wanting confirmation.
A click of teeth returned my focus to Lord Draven. It was as if a shroud fell over him with how painfully still he became. Footsteps pounded the wooden floor, retreating. I craned my neck to watch Damien run out of the shack.
“Do not turn your attention from me, redblood,” Lord Draven bit out. I quickly whipped my head back around. He gripped my arm, and the colors in his eyes pulsed.
Breathing harshly, I squirmed for freedom, unsuccessfully.
“Why were you touching him?” he asked calmly, but it was a farce. He showed too many teeth. The accusation rendered me silent. “What do you not understand about this body being mine?” He squeezed until tears gathered in my eyes. “Misuse of what is mine shall be punished.”
He pushed down on my shoulder, and my legs crumpled beneath me. I landed on my bottom, gawking up at him. Where had this anger come from?
Watching me with the line of his jaw tight and nostrils flaring, he seemed the embodiment of evil. His tawny hair fell onto his temples and across one brow. With quick jerks, he undid the straps connecting his trousers together. The leather scraped as it fell aside.
My breathing turned shallow, and I was unable to even blink.
Then his turgid member bounced free. My fingers curled as I stared at the moisture glistening on the head.
“On your knees,” he ordered silkily.
I struggled to comprehend, mind racing to make sense of all of it.
“Now!”
His bellow put the fear of the Saints in me. I shoved to my knees, and it brought me closer to the bobbing length. The cock hovered slightly above my mouth.
A flush worked over my face. The lewd view dragged my mind to the brothel and what I had learned.
He wants me to pleasure him.
Lord Draven gripped the back of my hair, wrenching harshly, forcing my neck to crane.
I kept my eyes on his. Shadows fell over his face, causing the hollows to look macabre.
“You, Amara Nadien, orphan redblood, are nothing.”
He thrust his cock into my mouth. I choked on a breath, but the velvety member did not let me push free, nor did his grip. He shoved deeper inside me until he hit the back of my throat, filling my mouth with his heady taste.
Half of the cock, that was what I could take.
He withdrew with a groan, the planes of his face sharpening. Yet his lips softened.
My heart thundered in my ears at a rapid, dizzying pace. This was why I was taken to the brothel, so I would know how to do this. Renata’s descriptions swirled through my thoughts. I reached up to clasp the base of his length, right over the thickness. What Renata called his ‘knot’.
He groaned.
Elation tightened my grip.
His reaction made me feel powerful—in control. The more pleasure that rippled across his too-beautiful features, the more I wanted to wring more sounds like this from him.
“The key is to relax. Especially with someone as big as him.”
I softened the stiffness of my jaw and rubbed upward to where my lips were straining around the shaft. With a careful glide, I lifted my head while simultaneously rubbing my hand downward to the base. Then squeezed.
A choked gasp left him, and the harsh grip in my hair softened. He watched me, expression open and soft. I did not turn away from him.
Like a ripple of a wave crashing over his features, fury returned.
He once again stiffened the hold in my hair, slamming me down until he shoved against the back of my throat.
Agony struck with each thrust, but he took no pity.
Spittle dribbled from the corner of my mouth, wetting my hand.
A taste, salty and earthy, accompanied it, becoming more and more intense.
The liquid I saw at the tip . . .
From when I watched him pleasure himself.
Suddenly, he went rigid, the pain along my scalp worsening, and shoved to the back of my throat. This time, he did not retreat to allow me a breath. The shaft jerked. Liquid, hot and earthy, filled my mouth.
I pushed at his leg, trying to pull back to breathe, but he did not move as more liquid continued to fill my mouth. I swallowed once and twice, but being unable to breathe became unbearable.
My mind reeled.
The last I saw were his features carved into a mask of ecstasy.