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“Itmeansthat I take care of what’s mine.“ His large hands gripped my waist as he lifted me, heedless of the fact that I wore nothing under the scrap of fabric and my newly bare sex was on display and sat me atop the saddle.
“I’m not yours,” I growled. I couldn’t help it. Teodosija would want me to play along and be the wilting flower he expected, but I refused. All I wanted was to rip the sword from his waist and drive it into his stomach again. It was obvious that he didn’t recognize me. I’d have the element of surprise on my side.
“You. Are. Mine.” He ground out, his eyes never leaving mine. “I won you.”
“You can’t own a person.”
“Look around you. Everyone here is owned by someone else. Accept it. That’s how you stay alive.” His gaze shuttered as he turned away and I let out a breath as if I’d been released. I’d once believed the same as he, keeping my head down to survive and enduring hideous things without comment. Until I learned that there were fates worse than death. Now I did whatever it took, regardless of the risk. The vanira shifted, and I stifled a shriek.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said as he slipped into the saddle behind me, his hard armor sharp on my back. “She won’t bite.”
His arms caged me in as he grabbed the reins, pulling them tight, and the vanira set off. I gripped at the saddle horn, a shiver racing up my spine as we started forward. The beast was graceful, its massive legs moving in smooth strides as it followed his commands. The rough hairs pricked the sensitive skin of my thighs, but I was too afraid to move and relieve the discomfort.
His breath was warm on my neck and for a moment I forgot about how much I hated him, how much this terrified me. His hands were gentle as he tightened the harness and it sent a shiver through me.
The spider shuddered, threatening to throw us off balance, and Theron steadied me, his large hand spread over my bare stomach. The trip to the castle took mere minutes atop the massive beast, and soon we were entering the sand-filled courtyard and dismounting. Vaernix chittered as the Marshal spoke to her in Elvish, telling her to go rest. An attendant led the vanira away, and I stared up at the enormous black ziggurat.
Before the Godsfall, the sons of Atar and Kearis had been like brothers, with Atar’s favorite mountain forge in Kearis’ territory, long before it had been named Cavantha. The Elves had built the castle and the original parts of the city with the strong basalt and obsidian from the range to shield themselves from the sand wyrms and desert storms and live amongst the Kyrie safely.
It was clear in the design that some occupants had once flown, the massive black structure filled with outdoor patios on each level for the night dwelling elves to enjoy once the sun went down having landing platforms.
I turned to find Theron watching me as I surveyed the castle, his eyes intent on my reaction. Glaring at him, I moved to study the fortifications rather than marveling at the splendor.
“Come on.”
He attempted to grab my hand, but I pulled away, instead letting him lead me away from the courtyard and toward a side entrance. We had spies in the palace, but none who would help us get inside. I cataloged everything as he guided me up a back stair to his apartment, counting how many stairs were on each level and how many floors we passed. He opened the door to reveal an enormous suite with a massive patio shadowed by sheer curtains hanging from the ceiling. The wind caught the cloth, and it billowed like sails on a ship, the spicily scented braziers burning as night descended and Ydonja’s stars shone.
His suite was a mix of dark and light. The walls were painted a warm cream color, and the floors were of black stone. Accents of red and iron gray—Axidor colors—dotted the space, from throw pillows to metal bookcases holding tomes about creatures before the Godsfall.
Maps of Maeoris covered the walls, but something else caught my attention. A bath bubbled in the corner, large enough to hold two people with space to spare, steam drifting upward. Anger filled me once more, imagining the slaves dying of dehydration while these water-fat bastards lorded it over all of us. The room was silent except for the distant clanging of the foundry and the wind whistling in from the open balcony doors.
I glanced up to find him staring at me, as if at a loss of what to do now that he had me in his den and I had the distinct impression that he hadn’t thought this through.
“Where’s your harem?” I asked, glancing around. I needed to know how many people I’d need to avoid to escape.
He shook his head. “I don’t have one.”
I made a non-committal noise in the back of my throat.
“Come here.” He told me and I gritted my teeth, forcing my feet to move forward. I could do this. I’d let him fuck me and then I could complete my mission. Then Teodosija’s plan could truly begin. After what had happened when I’d first arrived in Adraedor as a child, my relationship with sex had always been... difficult. With my lovers, I’d never felt fulfilled. But I didn’t expect to enjoy this. It might even be easier than usual.
I lifted my chin as I met his eye, not bothering to disguise my hatred as I untied the fabric, letting the silk slip from my body until I stood naked before him.
“Is this what you want?”
He sucked in a breath, his eyes heating as they roved my curves before he stepped closer. His rough hand drifted down my stomach and I stayed motionless as my skin prickled. He cupped my sex possessively, and I gasped as one of his fingers dipped between my folds to rest on my new piercing. Heat flooded my core, the pain receding as he activated the metal and I glared at him.
“Drier than the Restless Sands.” He smirked as he backed away, leaving me standing bare before him. “I don’t fuck unwilling women. I don’t need to.” He turned, walking to the bath where he stripped off his armor, tossing it on a large pillow.
My clit throbbed, and anger wound through my veins. Of course, he didn’t. Why would he when he could force any woman to beg for his cock with just a little magic? And how long until I was begging him to take me?
Chapter 4
Theron
Iwatchedtheangryconcubine as she tied on the scrap of cloth they’d given her as a dress, stripping off the rest of my clothing for my bath. I still wasn’t sure what had compelled me to choose her, but I didn’t regret it.
As she dressed, I couldn’t help but study her; the artful curves of her body and proud shoulders, the way her long muscles flexed under her skin. She was strong—not some soft-bodied, trained courtesan—most likely a slave from the mines. My heart beat faster as my gaze traveled to her breasts, pierced with electrum rings that glinted against her pale pink nipples in the candlelight. Her lengthy silver hair glimmered like a halo around her face, outlining those green eyes that seemed so familiar to me.
