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“My name is Sage!” I roared, my words like a battering ram—smashing through my mortality,unleashing me. Filled with strength, unlike anything I had ever felt before, I surged forward, pulling on the chains that imprisoned me. The wood post above me groaned once before my might—the might of a goddess—snapped the ten-by-ten-inch post in half. I leapt out of the way as the wood pillar came crashing down, narrowly escaping it as it smashed into the bed.
I was just about past the foot of the bed—just about to leap off—when the chain dragging behind me snapped taut. Panic-ridden, I looked back, briefly catching view of what was anchoring the chain, or rather, who—Aurelius. He snarled at me as he yanked it backwards with his godly strength, sending me flying towards him, my right arm twisting at an unnatural angle.
A grotesquepopsounded in my ear, followed by white-hot pain that scorched its way into my shoulder. At the same time, a scream shredded through my throat as I tried to make sense of what had happened, but my thoughts were scattered, blinded by my agony.
He used the chain to pull me off the bed and onto the floor. I landed with a thud, the side of my hip taking the brunt of my fall, but I heeded it little mind because the pain in my left shoulder was so much worse.
Blackness licked at the rim of my vision, trying to conquer it completely.
Stay with it. Stay with it, Sage,a voice—my voice—said. Whether I spoke the words in my head or out loud, I didn’t know.
Aurelius stood over top of me, the iron chain groaning under his relentless grasp as he pulled on it. “Quit your incessant screaming and do not struggle against me,” he said in his commanding, noble voice, a flash of light passing over his eyes.
My mouth snapped shut so fast my teeth rattled. My body went lax.
No! This couldn’t be. I thought I had broken free from his command.
“That’s better,” he sighed softly. “Contrary to the adorable little thoughts you conceive in your mind about escaping my control, the divine blood within you was built to serve its superior. I am your king, and whether you like it or not, your body was built to serve my order—toappeaseme.” He bentforward and his fingers hooked my collar. Using it, he hauled me and my lifeless left arm—which I was certain had been torn from its socket—to my feet.
Pain lacerated through me, nearly taking my vision, but I held my ground, refusing to hand myself over to the land of unconsciousness. I clenched my teeth together, my right hand tucking under my elbow, propping my sagging left arm up where it naturally should have been. In doing so, I was granted a sliver of relief.
“Do you know how I kept you compliant for all those years, Moonbeam?” he asked, his face mere inches from mine. “At first, my words alone were enough to compel you for days at a time, but as you grew older and stronger, my verbal commands lasted less and less. That’s why you are able to go against my command after a short passing of time—just as you did that night in the bathing pool. Just as you do now.”
Oh yes, I remembered that night, of the immense, horrific pain that ravaged my body as he drank from me—the sound of my life’s essence being slurped into his mouth, and with each heavy, torturous pull, eventually, I had passed out.
“But do you know what is stronger than my word?” He raised his wrist to his mouth as his top lip pulled back, his canines lengthening. “My ichor.” He bit into his wrist, his teeth plunging beneath his pristine skin as he filled his mouth with ichor.
Still locked under his most recent command, there was nothing I could do but watch.
He brought his mouth crushing down against mine at the same time his thumb and his forefinger drilled into my jaw, triggering it to open for him. Warm liquid filled my mouth and the taste of rich honey washed over my tongue.
His hand immediately replaced his mouth as he pulled away. He covered my face, making it impossible to open my mouthand expel the contents he had forced within it. “Swallow,” he commanded.
I tried to shake my head, tried to tell himno, but I couldn’t do any of that, and the muscle within my throat did as it was told.
The tears that had formed in my eyes began to dry up as I felt that familiar feeling of bliss and rapture creep over me.
It numbed the pain in my shoulder, while it made me feel an insatiable hunger.
Until all I craved was . . . him.
Golden eyes met mine as he removed his hand from my mouth. “Do you want more?”
I hated myself as I nodded. “Please.”
“Then drink.” He lowered his wrist to my mouth.
My tongue traced a droplet of ichor as it ran down the length of his muscled forearm and my body shivered in response. His ichor was divine. Powerful. Nourishing. And the way it made me feel—like I could do anything.
Be anything.
My hand, which had been supporting my dislocated arm, slipped free, and when my arm fell, I felt no pain. I clasped his wrist as I brought it to my lips, and then I started to drink.
My body became rapturous, starving for more of him—in every possible way.
And as if they had a mind of their own, my hips began to move—communicating with him what else my aching body now needed.
A rich, deep chuckle rolled through him as he swept me into his arms. He whispered into my ear, “This is how things will be for you now, Moonbeam.”
