Chapter Twenty
Alaya
I awake with my eyes still closed, the events from yesterday replaying like a nightmare behind my eyelids. Grief for Heller sits sharp in my chest; every time I remember that glazed look of death in his once-sparkling eyes, fresh pain brings tears to my face.
Last night’s celebration—sparked by the deaths of the Earthbound Fae and King Malaxor’s decision not to attack Heartwood—quickly spiralled into chaos: shouting, writhing bodies, and far too much Fae Wine. Domanikk kept me close all evening, pressing drinks into my hands I was too numb to refuse.
Now my head pounds from the aftereffects as my eyes flutter open.
I remember Domanikk bringing me back to this tent and telling me to sleep.
The space is sparse: a simple stone fireplace at the far end, a large wooden chest and a small wooden table with two chairs.
But the low bed dominates everything—no proper frame, just an enormous nest of blankets and pillows sprawled across the floor.
I gasp when my hand brushes flesh as I move, and I see Domanikk sprawled beside me, his leg draped over mine.
He’s naked, lying on his front with his long black hair splayed across his muscled back.
Heat rises to my face as my eyes trace down his back, over the dip before his toned waist and across his smooth rear.
His tanned skin draws me like a magnet, and before I can stop myself, my hand reaches out, tracing a finger down his back.
What is wrong with me?!
I pull back as if burned. He moves beneath my touch and rolls onto his side, propping his head on his crooked arm.
My cheeks flush and I look away, refusing to acknowledge his nakedness. Instead, I meet his yellow eyes, which stare at me with a lazy smirk on his lips.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he drawls, reaching to brush a stray curl from my face. I flinch, and his smile widens.
“We’re well past that, darling. You didn’t notice we shared a bed naked? No need to be coy with me.”
“Don’t touch me,” I reply, my temper rising.
He laughs, rolls over and rises to stretch, his muscles bunching and relaxing beneath his skin.
“That may be a problem for what I’ve planned today. First thing: a bath. I like things dirty, but I prefer you smell only of me.”
A bath and clothes sound like a dream. The dirt and sweat coating my body feels like a second skin.
He leaves and returns within ten minutes carrying a tray towards the bed. “Eat something before we bathe.” He places bread, cheese, fruit, and a small jug of milk beside me, smiling down at me.
The sight of food almost makes me miss the ‘we bathe,’ and I give him a sideways look of confusion as I start eating. He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.
“Thanks for this,” I say, my voice coming out in a delicate, melodic trill. I pour every ounce of feigned sweetness into the words, praying he won’t notice the slight tremor in my hands or the way I am holding my breath.
Two Equitae enter, one carrying a large wooden tub, the other two steaming buckets of water. While I eat, they fill the tub until water glints like a mirror near the top. Tendrils of steam rise lazily, and I almost groan at the thought of slipping my cold, dirty body into that warmth.
Domanikk walks over and pours a silvery liquid from a clay jug into the bath, swirling it with his hand.
“Come, my love.” He gestures towards the tub, and I don’t hesitate.
I flinch a little as I rise—the aches in my body remind me sharply of where I am. Domanikk’s eyes rove over my nakedness with lustful appreciation as I walk towards him, but I’m not embarrassed. Four days without clothes and nearly losing my life have made me indifferent to such things.
He holds out his hand, helping me step into the tub.
As I sink into the warmth, the heat caressing my aches like Kiernan’s touch, I let out a soft moan.
I fully submerge, eyes closed, luxuriating in the silent underwater world.
Tiny bubbles tickle my skin as the water swirls away the layers of fear and despair accumulated since my capture.
When I surface, Domanikk looks down with concern before it’s replaced by a smile. He kneels beside the tub, and I flinch away when he dips a sponge into the water, adds more of that silvery liquid, and begins gently cleaning my skin. I move to push his hand away, but he resists.
“Let me take care of you, Alaya,” he says in a soothing voice, lifting my arm and running the sponge slowly down it, the sensation making my skin prickle with heat.
“Why do you care?” I say, annoyed by his words and more annoyed by my own betrayal, the pleasure his touch brings me.
“I told you before—I am not a monster, Alaya. While you are here, you are mine, and I care for what is mine.”
My brows draw together. My lips press into a thin line. “I’m not yours.”
He moves behind me and gently pushes me forwards, the sponge smoothing across and down my back, dipping under the water and sweeping the top of my rear.
“Oh, but you are, my love. You are mine,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a velvet whisper. “And I have so many exquisite things to teach you. The pleasures I’ll show you—they’ll consume you, transform you. There will be no end to what you’ll feel beneath my touch.”
“Never.”
“See? You’re learning already. Nothing kindles my passion quite like defiance. Good girl.”
He stands and moves to the tub’s end, reaching to lift one of my legs by the ankle, cradling my heel in his palm.
“Why did you step in to stop Reth from killing me?” I blurt out, biting my lower lip in frustration that my private thoughts have escaped unbidden.
“What a waste you would have been—this beautiful body without a head,” he says, his surprisingly gentle hand smoothing down my calf.
“He seems to listen to you. He doesn’t strike me as someone who takes direction well.”
“Reth and I are … complicated, shall we say. My loyalty belongs to him above all else, even my own life. That’s why I’m his Lieutenant, his Beta Stallion. The light to his dark, the conscience at his shoulder to temper and guide him.”
His voice turns wistful, almost worshipful.
I gasp as his hand cups behind my knee, his fingers splaying over the soft, sensitive flesh of my inner thigh. That fire in my belly stirs; tiny flames awaken and stretch like a waking beast.
“I don’t believe he has a conscience to temper,” I reply, Heller’s dead eyes flashing painfully through my memory.
Before I can process what I’ve just said, he grabs my other ankle, raises my leg, and, holding both, pulls them towards him. My shoulders and head plunge below the water. I struggle to raise my head, panic rising. My lungs squeeze, barely half-full of breath from the quickness of his actions.
I thrash my arms and twist my body, unable to move my lower half due to his tight grip. I can faintly hear water cascading over the tub’s edge from my feeble exertions.
My mind focuses entirely on finding air to fill the painful crush in my lungs, yet it starts to feel futile. His grip remains firm, and a minute passes, feeling like eternity.
Finally, as the pain becomes unbearable and my mouth starts to open involuntarily to take a watery breath, he releases my ankles.
I lurch for the surface, a cry escaping as I take a deep, relieved lungful of air. Sitting in silence, only the drip of water from the tub’s rim and my shallow breaths break it.
I look up at Domanikk, his yellow eyes flashing dangerously.
“You’ve learnt another lesson, my dear. I may appear driven mindlessly by my dick, but I am Equitae. Everything I am belongs only to Reth and this Herd. Even that pretty pussy between your legs will never break that fidelity.”
He grabs a thick black towel from the nearby chair and holds it up, gesturing for me to rise. As I do, his arms envelope me, wrapping the towel around my damp body and drawing it under my arms, his fingers lingering a touch too long on my breast.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, confusion and guilt swirling through me as he walks towards the wooden chest.
“These are lessons I’m only too happy to share with you. You’ll learn our ways, and I’ll learn what pleases you. See, that excites me,” he drawls, turning back towards me.
My cheeks flame when I notice he’s half-erect, twitching. I don’t have much to compare, but I’m certain his is well above Kiernan’s glorious cock; even half-hard, his length is impressive.
He opens the chest and pulls out clothes: black leather trousers first, which he tucks himself away into, followed by black leather straps that hug his broad chest, his glinting yellow Enchantra at the centre.
“Do I get anything to wear? I’m kind of over walking around naked,” I say with a small laugh.
“Maybe. What will you give me in return?” He smirks. Seeing my confusion, he continues, “You know—a bargain? Nothing comes for free here.”
He rummages back in the chest and brings out black baggy-looking trousers and a white shirt, walking over towards me.
“I don’t have anything to bargain with.”
“Oh, but you do. So much delight,” he says, almost purring, reaching out to trace a finger down my cheek and leaning in, his hot breath on my ear. "A kiss for some clothes."
The tickle of his words against my skin, or maybe the weight of what he's asking for. What he's offering. My body betrays me—a shudder of pleasure, slight but unmistakable.
How long has it been since I've felt clothes against my skin?
He stands back. Waiting.
A kiss?
My eyes dip to the clothes in his hand.
This is how it starts, isn't it?
The thought cuts through sharp and clear. One concession. Then another. Then another, until I can't remember what I wouldn't do.
Just a kiss.
Just survival.
He tilts his head, patient. Like he has all the time in the world. Like he already knows my answer.
Whatever it takes to survive, right?
“Deal,” I concede.