Chapter 10 #4
Rhyan rolled off to the side, and sprang back to his feet, a deadly look across his face.
The second akadim started to drag Parthenay away, but Rhyan was on him in seconds, slashing his chest open and drawing blood.
He expertly dodged a hit, then wrapped his hands around the akadim’s neck, his foot stomping down on Parthenay’s arm, keeping her from running.
The demon’s eyes widened in terror as he tried desperately to break free of Rhyan’s hold.
But he wasn’t strong enough. A second later the demon’s eyes went blank as Rhyan ripped his head off, and threw it like a cannonball at what remained of my soturi.
His silver collar fell to the ground and a stunned akadim picked it up, examining it, while another kicked the head into the woods.
Within seconds, Rhyan had kicked the headless corpse aside, and threw Parthenay back on the ground.
“Mine,” he growled.
Parthenay screamed louder, her feet trying to kick at Rhyan, but they were completely useless under the force of his muscle. He rucked up what remained of her dress, and began pushing his loincloth aside.
“This is between you and your queen,” Aemon said. “Ask her. Beg your Maraaka for help.”
Sweat was beaded at my neck, my stomach turning. I had meant what I said about forbidding rape. But I needed to make my point. I couldn’t back down from Parthenay’s insolence.
She cried, “Maraaka Ereshya! Please! Morgana! I beg you!”
I held my breath. Waiting just a few seconds too long. To where it had gone too far, but—not far enough.
“Rhyan!” I hardened my voice. “Stop!”
He did. Immediately pulling himself back from Parthenay, his loincloth still covering him. She scurried backwards at once, shaking as she tried to close her dress. No black mark. No invasion of her body. He’d taken some blood, bitten her neck. She’d be bruised all over, but she would be fine.
“Stand,” I commanded, and Rhyan listened, wiping the blood dripping down his chin. “Go stand back with the others.”
His eyes flashed, and he bared his teeth, clearly agitated he’d been denied a full meal. But like the soldier I knew he was, he obeyed. Then he stalked back toward the akadim and took a seat amongst them. Several shifted away, clearly fearing him now that they’d seen how easily he could kill. Good.
“Gods, Parthenay,” I said. “Are you all right?” My voice was dripping with concern.
I bent down and swiped my finger across her neck.
“You know, I could have let him go all the way. After all, it’s in their nature as you like to remind me.
You seemed so adamant that they get to rape I thought you’d be okay with helping them out.
But,” I frowned. “You didn’t seem to like it much.
” Tears filled her eyes. “Calm down. It’s just a small bite. It’s natural. You’re fine.”
You Godsdamned fucking bitch! Her thoughts screamed at me.
Your Godsdamned fucking Maraaka.
“Parthenay,” Aemon said. “Show your respect to your queen for saving you. Now.”
Her refusal was all across her face and aura, but one look from Aemon, and she obeyed, falling to her knees, her hands out in supplication.
A small scar ran across her right wrist.
“You were saying?” I asked, licking my lips. “I think I demonstrated my control—and his—more than well.”
“Does anyone else want a chance with her?” Aemon asked, but he addressed his own soturi.
My eyes widened. And two akadim ran forward.
Suddenly, Aemon was chanting under his breath, “Ani petrova rakashonim, me ka el lyrotz, dhame ra shukroya, aniam anam. Chayate me el ra shukroya. Ani petrova rakashonim! ”
Thunder clapped in the sky, and lightning struck the meadow as indigo light radiated off of Aemon, now the embodiment of Moriel.
Parthenay cowered, as did the rest of the vorakh.
They knew he was powerful. They had no idea just how much.
He took off at a run for the two akadim, his arms outstretched. And I remembered all the times he was called the Ready, all the times he’d been looked upon as a God of Death.
His hands wrapped around the first akadim. And then the second.
There was a crack, and both heads rolled onto the ground.
He’d been even faster than Rhyan.
My heart thundered. I’d known his strength, the sheer force of his power. But seeing it demonstrated like this— fuck. There was no one strong enough to defeat him. Not yet.
“This is the fate which awaits anyone who disobeys my command,” he said, turning slowly to face everyone in our court. “As well as my queen’s.”
Then Aemon pulled me in toward him, his arm wrapped around my back, his hand snaking down my ass. That was risky, he admonished.
I shrugged. Risky? But inside, my heart was beating too hard. I had almost gone too far. Almost. I shook my head. A risk can only exist when you have something to lose. I didn’t.
Is that so? he purred, but there was something dark, and violent underneath the seductive tone to his thought. I already knew where this was going.
Yes. I arched my back. Either Rhyan proved my point, or he didn’t. Leaving me to either win the debate, or lose Parthenay. A win no matter what.
He laughed. You are a cruel, vicious goddess.
His eyes seemed to sparkle and darken all at once.
Then he squeezed his arms around me, tight.
Painfully so. He playfully bit down on my nose, and then bit harder, his teeth sinking into my skin, and forcing my mouth open to breathe.
Showing Rhyan’s strength worked in your favor. And showing mine has worked in ours.
Ours? I asked.
He smirked, but his hands tightened even more, bruising me. Parthenay is my Second. We would not be here today without her. She’s not to be harmed.
I don’t like her, I pushed back, willing my nerves to stay grounded. I don’t want her around.
Parthenay is crucial to the mission. He pulled back, his dark eyes boring into me, his indigo aura pulsing to the point the sky seemed to darken above us.
If she’s so crucial to the mission, then when we leave here, I thought, take her with you. Let her help you.
Aemon’s lips curled. That’s not how a Second works. She goes where I am not. And you should have little problem with her, now that you’ve shown her how powerful you are. Seen how willing she is to submit.
So I showed my power. Was I not always stronger than her? I was. And yet, because of you, I cannot cast her aside, I thought, bitterly.
You may not, he thought. Not yet. Time is crucial, especially these next few weeks as the Empire scrambles to assert its dominance.
Now you know what to do. Make your way west to the caves.
To the Wall of the Prince. You know where to look.
Grow your army as you march. Claim the next shard with your soturi then meet me in the North.
And Andromeny will seek out the key to our secret weapon, I thought.
Yes. We need her, and the weapon. But the shard must be found first. His eyes flicked to Rhyan, then back to me, before he buried his face in my neck, slipping his tongue across my skin, licking down to my throat.
I gasped, feeling him spin me away from him, his hands beneath my cloak, untying the straps of my dress.
“Wh-what are you—?” I asked out loud, I was so startled.
He pinned my hands behind my back, and unclasped my belt.
It fell to the ground with a sharp metallic thud, and the top of my dress slipped down.
Aemon pushed the fabric all the way aside exposing my left breast, and then the right, baring me to everyone in the meadow.
Heat rose up my neck, burning against my cheeks.
The akadim on Aemon’s side growled, their eyes flashing with fire, and I could sense my soturi drawing closer, while the chayatim didn’t seem to know whether to look at us or look away.
Though they didn’t emit enough shock in their auras to suggest they’d never seen such a display before while in the Palace.
I’d never been shy—not after our first night together. I’d been fucked while Aemon watched, fucked by him in places where we could be caught, or where I knew someone was lurking, watching. Sometimes more than one person.
But … never like this. Before a full audience, and in broad daylight. My stomach clenched in fear, even as my core tightened.
If you want to starve your akadim, Aemon’s hand wrapped around my neck and he squeezed, at least give them a meal to look at.
His boot stomped down suddenly by my foot, catching the hem of my dress.
It fluttered to the ground leaving me completely naked except for my cloak and crown.
I could feel a flush of heat running from my neck to my chest, even as a shock of desire cut through my humiliation.
Aemon? What are you doing?
Come on, kitten. I know you like this. And it has to be done.
You can’t tease an army of beasts like you did, and leave things unfinished.
He unbuckled his belt, and began to lift my cloak from behind.
Plus, don’t forget you owe me. You got to keep the strongest akadim as your Arkturion. I allowed you to keep Rhyan Hart.
Allowed? I seethed. He’s mine! I bargained for him! Because I gave you your—I buried the thought behind my mental walls, covering it with onyx stone as I drew his hand from behind me between my legs.
Even if I had wanted to fight back, there was no way I could. Not when he was still radiating with the power of Rakashonim. Not when he was a living God. And despite it all, I was soaked. Some dark part of me wanted this. Liked the humiliation. Liked being desired.
You’re right, I thought, you did give me what I wanted.
So do it then. Fuck me. Fuck your queen.
Right here, before our court. I pulled off my cloak, the only remnant of modesty that remained, and let it meet the rest of my garments on the ground.
Now I only wore my crown. From my peripheral vision, I eyed my shield, seeing its orange light rise to meet the sun.
Let them watch. Let them worship us like they used to before the Drowning. But …
His cock was thick and heavy against my bare ass, as he leaned me forward, arching my back so he could enter. A pulse built between my legs, and my heart thundered.
The akadim were clapping now, howling into the sky, their control teetering on exploding.
Their collars seemed to crackle as if they were struggling to keep them bound.
But now that they knew what happened, that disobedience would result in the loss of their heads—either by the hands of Rhyan, or Aemon—they remained compliant.
But what? Aemon thought.
But when I collect the next shard, and I bring it to you, I want one thing in return. My fingers wrapped around his cock, sliding his length between my folds, coating him in my wetness, in the proof I was going along with this. That I was not just allowing, but wanting.
He grunted, slapping my hand away, and kicked my legs even further apart. He positioned himself at my entrance, and gripped my hip, his fingers digging into me.
Name it, kitten. Name your price.
After the next shard is claimed, I never want to see Parthenay again.
Done. He slammed inside of me.