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“Her heart’s beating fast, Malyr.” Sebian’s voice, gravelly and laced with heavy breaths, did nothing to calm the heat pulsing between my legs. He brought his chair closer and leaned over, running a hand down my waist before he whispered by my ear, “Should I tell him how wet you are for this, sweetheart? How needy your little cunt is for his shadows?”
I wasn’t sure what burned hotter in my chest as I looked at him, shame or rage. Probably the latter, given how he tortured his lower lip, letting his lustful gaze take a timeless stroll over my degraded body. But gods! The tingles these shadows roused in me…
“Do you like this, little dove?” Malyr asked. “Does Brisden’s whore daughter enjoy how my shadows are playing with her tight, pink cunt?”
“No,” I ground out.
Malyr’s lips scathed across the shell of my ear. “Liar…”
Shadows dipped into me ever so slightly, turning the pressure between my legs unbearable. Oh, how they filled me. Stretched me. Played with me until my lips parted with the threat of a moan.
My breath ceased.
No. No. No.
Not again.
I would rather die than betray a single shameful reaction, so I ripped my chin from Malyr’s clasp. Pressing my mouth against the feathers on my shoulders, I breathed the sound into their vanes.
Sebian sucked in a long breath, fingers curling into my waist with possessive strength. “Fuck, sweetheart, that was a lovely moan. Why hide it from us, hmm?”
“You should’ve heard her when I cut her peachy lip.” Malyr ripped my gaze back to his two-colored stare with such force, my balance shifted onto one aching knee until I hissed. “The strangest things lure the strangest sounds from my little dove.”
“Did that hurt, sweetheart?” Sebian’s fingers ran from waist to knee, where they bunched the fabric of my dress underneath it for a cushion. “Too much pain kills the pleasure, Malyr.”
My gaze went back and forth between them, hairs rising along my arms at this strange energy that quivered the air between them, and my nerves right along with it. I watched the quiet looks they exchanged, like an unspoken conversation I wasn’t privy to.
“She deserves no pleasure. Not from me, anyway,” Malyr said and, at last, his shadows retreated from beneath my skirts. “I simply enjoy watching her act like a common whore while she writhes as if I paid her for it.”
That tingling heat faded into nothing but a barren chill, clashing with that relentless throbbing that had settled in my cheeks. “There isnopleasure in this.”
“You haven’t eaten yet; we shall rectify that.” He gave me a pat on the head as if I was his favorite hound, blatantly ignoring what I’d said. “Of the many ways I would like to kill you, had I the leave, starving you is certainly not one of them.”
Searing contempt burned stronger in my veins than the rough stone that bit into my joints. “I am no longer hungry.”
“If you are hungry or not is of no consequence.” His hand hovered over a plate of delicious blackberries, but then shifted as if he knew how much I liked them—and he couldn’t possibly offer me something I liked. He broke off a small piece from the bread on the plate before him instead. He buttered it with the knife now sitting in his other hand and brought it to my mouth. “Open those pretty, cut-up lips, Galantia. Gratefully take the scraps given to you by your betters like the good little Brisden bitch you are.”
Righteous fury knotted my belly, causing such convulsions, as my throat bittered with bile. “I would rather starve.”
“Yes, I figured that you would say something like that. Given how quickly you ended up on your knees and by my feet, I shall provide you with another choice. Take the bread or…” Flames once more reflected on the knife as he brought it closer, pressing the greasy blade against my mouth. “Lick the knife until you bleed. Sebian likes the sound of your moan. Indulge him.”
Beneath the silver, the cut on my bottom lip throbbed, marking the seconds of silent staring that passed between us. To the five hells with him! Did he think that a cut still bothered me? My neck was bruised, my lip aching, my chest carved-up! He wanted me to lick the knife?
Well, as it so happened, I’d promised myself a future where I would touch all the damn knifes; I’d just never specified how or with what body part. Might as well fucking lick it.
I parted my lips, holding Malyr’s gaze as a flutter infused my veins and that godless throb returned to between my legs.Don’t touch the knife, Galantia.
A smile curved my lips.
But why not?
I pressed my tongue against the blade. With a determination that returned some of my pride, I slid it upward, slowly, languidly. It burned. Burned so nicely, only to gradually fade into a pleasant after chill as iron seasoned my mouth.
Malyr’s lips parted, and the tip of his tongue shifted, curled as though he wanted to lick the blood from my teeth. Air escaped his lungs in a long, stuttering exhale that seemed to send a slight tremble through his entire body, and the thinnest coils of shadows simmered along his corded neck.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Sebian groaned, shifting in his chair. “Maybe you do like his attention after all.”
My pulse quickened under Malyr’s intense stare, the way his shadows thickened. Until his gaze snapped to something behind me, and his jaws tightened.
