The single word was a slap to the face, Aida recoiling from him to look at her twisting hands. Swallowing hard against the thick bile burning the back of her throat, she set to fastening the boots on her feet instead. If he didn’t even want this from her, what would he do to her now?
Jumping as he grabbed hold of her hair again, she silenced her shrill sounds of pain when she tugged the whole lot. Delicate strands ripping free from her scalp as he pulled and twisted the thick rope of it up on itself. Winding it round itself until a tight circlet of curls covered the back of her head. He muttered something foul under his breath and pulled Aida backwards by her hair, his free hand shoving small trinkets and things she had no name for around on a tray until he came up with a long quill. Snorting in something nearing amusement, he stabbed the mottled feather into the twist he’d made to secure it. Aida ground her teeth as the nib scraped her skin, hoping the warmth she felt there was not blood.
Er’it shackled her upper arm again, hauling her along as if she were an errant child. Cheeks burning with her humiliation, she refused to look up from the trampled earth. Focusing instead on not tripping over her new footwear, their stiffness awkward and strange. She did well until he pushed her onto a fallen log, her fingers peeling away sheets of rough bark when she had to scramble for some hold to keep her from tumbling backwards. The murmur of laughter slinking through the crowd of people moving around them made her face flash hotter still. A fire of shame scalding her skin as she huddled in Er’it shadow.
It was just as it had been in Logoria. Er’it ignored her, speaking with his people as they came to him for instructions. The whole of the little canvas city broken down and stored on their carts with a huge clamor, everyone bustling about and eager to be on their way. Aida settled into her spot, refusing to move around despite how uncomfortable the tree’s side was to her bruised backside or the way the sun burned the back of her head. Promising herself she wouldn’t give him further cause to be angry with her this day, if ever again.
She’d grown up with Otaso’s rule, any desire to fight against it torn asunder at the first breath of rebellion. Even she could understand that. Now she would learn Er’it’s rules and follow them. These mistakes she made, they were only because she didn’t understand what he wished of her yet. Unlike her guardian, Er’it did not spell these things out for her with crystal clarity, instead letting her fumble along. Blaming her for every misstep that she could have avoided had he just told her what he wanted.
Despite her frustration at her new circumstances, she would strive to be better. At least he seemed pleased enough with her body, and from what she could remember of those hazy moments when fire sang through her veins, she enjoyed it.
Pursing her lips, she realized she could admit she liked it very much indeed. Reasoning it was natural for someone like her, what Otaso had named her, to enjoy such things, Aida didn’t understand the uneasy sensation pooling in her belly. Whispering vicious words of shame, filthy things that coated the back of her throat with bile. All if it wiped away as the harsh wind shifted, bringing the scent of cedars and masculine musk to her.
Just the smell of him made her mouth hungry for something that had nothing to do with food. A flash of memory, a wave of sensation working its way through her, Aida grew hot then chilled as she struggled to remember it all. His face above her. Body moving with sinuous, powerful movements as he dragged her up the rocky cliff of pleasure towards a precipice that terrified and excited her. He’d never taken her that way, his face close to hers. Lips touching, his tongue inside of her mouth to play over hers while he held her so tight she never wished him to release her.
Aida squeaked as Er’it shifted, his leg brushing against her trembling thigh. Hard topaz stabbed into her soul as he looked at her, dark brows pinching together. A scowl that chilled her to the core and yet had a thrilling shiver running pell-mell down her spine.
Growling something in his strange language, Er’it folded his hand over her nape. Wrenching Aida up from her seat to march her across the open area towards the tree line, his breaths came hard and fast. As the crowd thinned, past even the beasts that made up the tail of his caravan for their slowness, Aida became more afraid. Sure that he’d use her here and now, or worse that she’d displeased him again, let her shoulders round in defeated submission. Hung her head, though his fingers wrapped around to her throat kept her chin raised.
Aida’s surprise was palpable when Kal’s wispy hair came into her downcast view. Eyes jerking up, she found his soft black gaze, watchful and curious. Imagining she saw a morsel of pity there for her, Aida would have broken down into tears had Er’it not released her to vault up onto Kal’s back. Fingers snapping in her face, he held his open palm out to her.
Uncertain what he was about, she lifted her hand towards his. Shrieked and kicked as he pulled her from the earth to sit hard on the leather pad before him. Would have fallen right off had he not slammed his arm across her thighs and grabbed her with the other. Crushed against Er’it’s chest with his arm locked tight around her waist, she couldn’t breathe let alone move. It wasn’t the man concerning her at the moment though.
“I-I’m sorry,” she whispered at Kal’s backwards ears, hesitant fingers petting at the lush softness of the long hair decorating his neck.
“You should be,” Er’it hissed against her ear, somehow tightening his grip on her. “Do not dare try to unseat me again.”
Readying for a denial, Aida snapped her open mouth shut. It wouldn’t matter to him anyhow. Letting Er’it tug and push her into the position he wished her, Aida remained slack in his grip. Refusing to struggle no matter how much he hurt her, voicing no complaint as he set Kal into motion with a press of his knees. He didn’t direct Kal with the leather harness attached to his head and the long leads as the others did with the horses. Guiding Kal where he wanted the beast with gentle pressure along his sides, application of his heels bringing the animal to a stop.
Er’it’s demeanor with the creature was so different from the way he treated her. Even the way he treated other people. He nodded and gave gruff salutations to the people they passed as he sent Kal towards the head of the long line of the waiting train. All of them staring, making her skin prickle with unease. She caught more than a few whispering to each other, shaking their heads with what had to be disgust for her. Turning her gaze to Kal’s smooth neck, she pretended nothing was wrong, that she wasn’t some stranger’s slave, that this was all just an awful dream.
It was no use. Within moments the heat of Er’it at her back had her whole body flush. Prickling with a different sensation altogether. The slow rock of Kal’s easy strides such a similar rhythm to the one Er’it would sometimes begin with. Shifting her forwards and back against him, the hard bulk of him rubbing against her back. It had that space between her legs growing hot and wet. Proof of her unnatural excitement making her thighs slick as they ambled through the valley and the sun bathed them.
How strange that not so long ago she’d have given anything to experience even a moment such as this. To have the sun bright on her face, the wind tugging at the thin wisps of her hair that came free of the knot. Smelling the same knotted pines and forest scrub in the thick of it, instead of staring at with longing from her tower window. Even to be astride a beast, though she’d never given any real consideration to riding on a horse, let alone whatever Kal was. So high off the ground with her shadow coming nearer as the sun continued its trek towards the top of the soaring blue sky, she could see a freedom of its own. A part of everything and yet separate from it. Kal’s powerful muscles and long stride her own to wield. She imagined him running was a thing of awesome beauty. That being his rider then would be as close to true freedom as one could ever get.
“Drink.”
Order punctuated by a leather sack shoved in front of her face, Aida startled from her thoughts. Taking hold of the thing, she couldn’t help but giggle as it sloshed and crumpled in her hesitant grip. With care, she worked the stopper free of the top and held it to her open lips.
Salty and thick, she could taste his lips there. How or why was beyond her, but it pulled a quiet sound from her throat, one that remembered all too well what Er’it tasted like direct from the source. Hoping he hadn’t heard, knowing he had by the way his arm jerked her flush, she took the meager sip of cool water Er’it allowed before snatching the strange sack from her grip.
There was no helping it now. Not while his wide palm and cruel fingers kneaded her hip. Pulling her back against the bulge digging into her backside in time with Kal’s strides. A breathless whine stumbled over her glistening lips, head falling back to his shoulder as Aida melted into him. The warmth tangling through her having nothing to do with the brilliant sunshine or the stares she was sure were being given to her.
It was best that she accept it. Struggling against the things she felt led to Er’it being angry with her, and she enjoyed it so. Being those things Otaso named her, it was what Er’it wished from her. That much she understood. A whore, a thing to breed, this omega that would give him what he desired. Aida was almost certain these were the same things Er’it wanted of her. He was a blood mage, just as Otaso was.
“Stop this,” Er’it ground out, though his lips were tight against the fluttering pulse at her neck.
“Please, tell me what you wish me to do.” Aida’s lashes fluttered, clearing the shimmering haze from her vision. Uncertain if it were more tears or the rampant heat thundering through her veins.
Muttering against her flesh, Er’it held her tighter. Crushing her against his chest as he spoke in his own language. Perhaps berating her or maybe listing the many things she should do. Fretting the longer he went on, voice growing downright savage as his teeth scraped down her neck to where the tight collar of her dress barred his path.
“Why do you taste so damned good,” he asked with a snarl, as if she’d angered him with yet another thing she had no control over.
“I’m s-sorry.” It was all she could say. All she could ever say. Apologizing to the males who owned her, that she owed her life to. Never enough to satisfy them, unable to give them what they wanted of her. A lifetime spent trying to make them happy, only to fail over and again.
“Stop this sniveling! I haven’t hurt you.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
