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Calanthe grinned. “Good girl.”
She lashed the whip against the floor, ready to release Inez from this torment. The first time Calanthe used her magic on her to switch her pain and pleasure sensors, Inez had been glad every hit made her moan instead of sob. But now, tied to the end of the empress’s bed, her clothes torn and bloodied and puddled on the floor at her knees, Inez wished she felt the pain. Inez eyed the bathroom door, craving a moment alone to wash what little shame hadn’t been tortured out of her—
The door slammed open.
Inez nearly sobbed as Empress Calanthe jerked around. If Calanthe got angry, if she left to kill this poor fucker who stupidly walked into the empress’s chambers, Inez would be stuck in the throes of pain and passion, unable to do anything but wait. Calanthe couldn’t hold her magic on anyone else without physical contact, but Inez was tethered to her, a pathway between them active at all times. Calanthe would leave her squirming for hours.
Inez would be begging by the time her mistress returned, all to Calanthe’s great satisfaction.
“Who dares disturb their empress?”
Inez shuddered at the tone, but whoever obviously entered wasn’t that smart.
“There’s no need for—” The footsteps faltered. “Is this a bad time?”
A tall, pale-skinned Sollirian male with towering crystal horns and white waves of hair falling to his strong jawline paused awkwardly before the bed. Inez peered at him over her shoulder, her hair pasted to her face with sweat. His breechesclung to all the right places and his shirt was loose, the top button undone to reveal the peaks of a muscular chest. If Inez’s nipples weren’t already painfully hard, they would be at the sight of him.
Calanthe let out a long sigh. “I guess not. What do you want, brother?”
Her mistress had never mentioned a brother. Sollir wasn’t dynastic and each new leader had to fight their way to the title. Calanthe had staged her coup by seducing the last emperor, stabbing him to death on their wedding night, and dropping half the imperial court on Janus to die. While her birth family didn’t matter, surely someone would have mentioned—
“Stepbrother,” Rylec corrected.
Calanthe sighed. She handed the whip to a servant and patted Inez twice on the shoulder. “You can come now.”
The wave of pleasure was immediate. It rippled through Inez’s thoughts, her body. Her back arched, her mouth opening in one loud groan. She clutched at the footboard and tried to hold it in, but Calanthe desired her embarrassment above all else. Inez wanted to close her eyes and pretend she was alone, but her traitorous gaze caught on the male. Calanthe’s stepbrother. But he didn’t watch her shiver and scream and bleed with scorn or a wicked desire. He stared at her blankly, his dark eyes containing something almost like… fury. And when his gaze flickered to Calanthe, that fury morphed and grew, mixed with disgust.
Both emotions were gone in a flash, like Inez had dreamed it.
Real or not, Calanthe didn’t notice it as she meandered to the room’s elaborate bar cart, poured two drinks, and raised one toward her stepbrother. “Talk, Rylec.”
Rylec’s eyes traced back to Inez, naked and slumped against the footboard. The orgasm had finally finished with her, but her rough pants echoed throughout the room. Inez wanted to crawlaway and cry. But until her mistress said she could go, she lay still in her own drying blood.
Rylec raised his hand and the drink in Calanthe’s floated over to him. Telekinetic, then. “In front of your star-maid?”
“She’s not going to talk.” Calanthe dropped lazily into a chair. “She’s far too scared of me to do that.”
Inez’s heart shriveled. Of course Calanthe knew. Sometimes the empress pretended they were friends, lovers, or a lady and her favorite maid. Inez had learned to smile and laugh at her jokes, to blush at her confessions of affection, and to gossip about the fawning idiots of the imperial court. But at the end of the day, Inez was simply Calanthe’s star-maid and property, to do with as she wished.
Inez glanced at the ceiling, not wanting to see her mistress’s smirk or her stepbrother’s reaction, but she didn’t look away quick enough. This time, the fury was clear as day on Rylec’s face.
Calanthe scoffed. “Don’t look at me that way, brother. She’s a star-maid. Her soul and her body are mine to use as I please.”
Hot tea swished out of the cup, burning Inez’s hand and the memory. Dammit. Inez swallowed the pain. She had tried so hard to forget her time with Calanthe. Hours and hours of therapy had helped, but nothing could ever erase the memories of what she had suffered. Inez had been whipped for the first time at age ten, but no amount of preparation readied her for Calanthe’s cruel blend of pain and pleasure. Every other Sollirian she had encountered picked one and stuck with it.
Inez looked Calanthe straight in the eye. “I remember. I remember everything.”
Calanthe smiled, a strange wistfulness. “Good. I’m glad.”
Empress Calanthe lifted a tiny silver bell and rang it, a twinkle echoing through the room. A Sollirian nursemaid rushed in and bowed. Soriya started to pout, but Calanthe reached out andbrushed a hand down the girl’s dark curls. “Mama has to speak to her guests about serious adult matters, Soriya. Go with your nursemaid, please.”
Soriya reluctantly lowered her cup. “Yes, Mama.”
“Good girl.” Calanthe ruffled her hair. “Mama loves you.”
“I love you, too, Mama.”
The little girl toddled from the room, followed by the obedient maid. Inez watched her go, enraptured by every step. Across the table, Rylec did the same. When the doors shut, her eyes met his. They burned with a fury greater than she had ever seen. Getting their daughter back was more important than ever.
