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Nobody had ever been so harsh with him. Even when the brothers or their Father sought to hurt Aspen, it was always in the way he liked. This was pure brutality, and King Taven finally grunted as he seemed to grow close.
Aspen could barely breathe from the pain and the way he was being pushed into the table. A last thrust made him try to scream through the hand over his mouth.
King Taven stilled as he breathed heavily before pulling out. The pain didn’t go away. The Hall had gone mostly silent. Aspen struggled not to cry as he let his eyes flick around, hoping that somehow, King Leneer’s court had killed the other side. But no.
Many lay dead. A woman sobbed in a corner as a lord held her down and violated her. An injured man was being dragged out by two of King Taven's men. Moments later, he started screaming in the entrance hall. A man on the floor, probably his husband, shouted for him, but a soldier rammed his sword into the fairy’s back to shut him up.
The abundant male lay dead by another table with his gory sword beside him. He’d managed to take someone out with him, but it hadn’t been enough. The musicians had all been slaughtered. Fire and other magic had hit the walls and marred them, and more than one tablecloth was smoking. Plates and glasses lay shattered on the blood-streaked floor.
A few of King Taven's men lay dead, but King Leneer’s side had lost. It was over. Aspen expected to feel a blade slide across his neck, but King Taven tossed him on the floor and fixed his trousers before he walked around the High Table. The woman in the corner stopped screaming.
“You. Take your men outside, help the rest kill what's left of the guards, and start on the city afterward. The rest will join you.”
Aspen blocked out everything as he scooted over to King Leneer, buried his face in the dead man’s sleeve, and sobbed. He didn’t know how long passed while he stayed like that, hardly able to believe he was dead. The younger ones. The Queen. Oriel.
They’d surely go upstairs and kill Oriel too. Everyone Aspen loved would be dead.
He gasped when someone grabbed his ankle for the second time that night and yanked on him. Several men had come behind the High Table, and the one holding Aspen had a vivid scar running down the side of his face. He smirked as he spoke to his buddies.
“Before we deal with the bodies, how about some fun?”
Chapter Two
Oriel leaned his head back on the edge of the tub as he soaked in the hot water and tried to let it ease the hurt. Just four more years of seeing Aspen being railed by everyone else. Four more years of the man he still loved being the family pleasure slave.
Once in a while, he thought about at least speaking to Aspen, but any friendship would just be a shadow of before.
He sighed as he heard boots clomping through his bedroom. It was probably Kard and Zale ready to pester him about leaving earlier. They’d tried to talk him into easing up on Aspen, but they didn't get it. Oriel had given his love over and gotten hurt for it.
The privy room door opened.
He didn’t bother to open his eyes. “I’m not going back dow-”
He didn’t get to finish. Someone grabbed him by the throat, and another hand clamped on the back of his neck. His head was shoved under the water, and he struggled, but the grips were too tight. He tried to summon his fire, but the water stopped that.
Something thin and cold was placed around his neck despite his trying to twist. A collar. Underwater, he swore he heard the faint click as it was secured. His chest felt ready to burst as his head was jerked back up. He threw a wild punch in his panic, but with no fire, all he succeeded in was bloodying someone’s nose. A punch to his gut winded him, not that he had much air, and he was tugged out of the tub.
King Taven’s four men wrestled Oriel to the floor as he shouted and hoped someone heard, but his attackers had likely taken care of anyone nearby. Oriel took another hit to the ribs before he was pinned down.
His wrists were wrenched behind his back and tied with rough rope. He tried to summon his fire again out of desperation, but nothing happened. Lirek. The collar they’d put around him was for prisoners, and it was made with the one thing that would put a stop to any magic.
“If you want your family to live, you’ll behave,” one of the men barked before Oriel was roughly dragged from the privy room. They tossed him on the rug in front of the fireplace in his bedroom, and he stiffly rolled onto his side as his heart pounded.
He started to say something, but the one with a bloody nose yelled at him to shut up.
Oriel already knew it was too late, and his chest felt like it was being squeezed from panic. King Taven had betrayed them. He should have stayed downstairs. What had happened to his parents and brothers? Aspen? The courtiers?
“You’ll do whatever you're told, or we’ll slit your Father’s throat while your Mother watches.” The speaker stalked toward the door.
The other three didn’t waste time as they came toward him. One was already loosening his belt which made his intentions quite clear.
“Get away from me!” Oriel tried to scoot away, and the other two grabbed him. He thrashed, but they pinned him on his stomach. The third straddled him, and for a moment, Oriel thought would throw up. This couldn’t be happening.
“Please-”
“Shut up.”
"Get off me!"
