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“And I’d rather his ass not be all stretched out.” Roth brushed past Father to kneel. “Some present it is if anybody can stick their cock in it.”
“You’ll bring him to dinner tonight, and the court can use him as they see fit. We’ll see if he fights back then.”
The words almost made Oriel throw up as Roth paused for a second with his hand on the chain. “I’m not sharing my present like that. You said he’s mine.”
The chain came undone just as Lord Delwin snatched his son’s left arm and jerked him up. “What I say in this city and under this roof goes! You’re not the lord yet, and maybe he is your present, but that’s because I said so.”
Oriel kept his head close to the floor as Lord Delwin yanked his son across the room.
“Let go of me!”
“I guess I should take away your slave right now to teach you a lesson." Lord Delwin hauled Roth into his bedroom.
The chain was unhooked.
Roth grunted like he’d been hit as Lord Delwin snarled at him. “I’ve spent years taking care of you, and you wouldn’t have shit if it wasn’t for me. I could have put you and your Mother on the street.”
Something crashed in Roth’s bedroom as Oriel stood. “Get off!”
“Don’t you dare ever raise a hand to me!”
Like hell Oriel was going to let him beat Roth again. Glass shattered as he snatched a heavy-looking figurine from one of the bookshelves. He raced into the bedroom to find Lord Delwin had pinned Roth against a half-shattered looking glass on the wall, and he rammed his flaming fist right into his gut.
Roth cried out but grabbed the lord’s throat. Purple energy crackled as lightning raced through the lord who tensed with his fist still against his bastard son’s torso.
Oriel swung the figurine. It cracked, but it still made a pleasing sound as the marble connected with the lord’s skull. Lord Delwin staggered back and sank to his knees as more fire formed around his fists, but Roth threw his hand out. Oriel jerked back before remembering that Roth’s lightning tracked its target.
The purple ball of electricity hit Lord Delwin who stiffened as his body spasmed, and he made a strange noise before he tipped forward and lay motionless. With his pulse racing, Oriel lunged forward and smashed what was left of the figurine into the back of his already bloodied skull.
It cracked further, and little pricks of pain blossomed on Oriel’s hand, but he didn’t give a shit as he stepped back and breathed heavily. Blood marred the lord’s rusty red hair, his tail was limp, and he didn’t move. Roth sagged against the wall and sank to his rear amongst the broken glass as he clutched at his midsection.
“Check-check his pulse.”
Oriel crouched and put his fingers to the lord’s neck. Nothing. “He’s dead. I-oh, fuck.” Killing Lord Delwin on the way out hadn’t been a part of their plan. Now, they’d be wanted for murder.
Oriel ran into the sitting room and locked the door before he returned and shut the bedroom door. “What the fuck do we do?”
Roth glared at the body and wrapped an arm around his middle. Luckily, his coat wasn't burning, although a hole had formed in his clothes, and the edges were charred. “Put him in my closet room. We can’t just leave him laying out.”
“Wait.” Oriel tried to watch his footing as he drew closer. “You’re sitting in glass.”
“Most of it’s in my damn back now.”
Oriel struggled to get to him and not step in sharp bits himself. Glass tinkled, and in the light, he noticed the jagged edges had a faint pinkish-orange tint. Lorven-made looking glasses from the Glasswood Kingdom were usually quite sturdy, so Roth must have been shoved pretty hard. Oriel got him up and led him to sit away from the glass.
He paused to pick out a damn shard that pricked his heel and swore. He grabbed the lord’s boots and dragged him across the floor to the closet room. It wasn’t the best plan, but they didn’t have many options.
“We have to get out of here now, but you’re hurt.” Oriel dropped to his knees by Roth. “Fuck!”
“We have a little time,” said Roth. “If anybody wonder’s where he is, they’ll think he’s gone looking for Derra. They won’t question anything right now so we don’t have to run away at this moment.”
Oriel took a deep breath. “Okay, but you need to get your clothes off.”
“Wait-you’ve got blood on your hand.”
Roth touched the few little spots where the sharp edges of the statue had nicked Oriel’s hand. Each one vanished with a quick glow of warmth.
Afterward, Oriel helped him to strip off his coat, vest, and shirt. A nasty burn had formed on Roth’s stomach, and blood ran from a few spots on his back where bits of glass had stabbed his skin. Oriel picked out a few bits with tweezers so Roth could heal it. He couldn’t do anything about the burn.
