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I don’t know why I was suddenly so sad, but anger failed to protect me from those words. Vulnerable and sunken in that chair. A little kid being reprimanded by a grown-up. Told that my punishment was for my own good. The dynamic between us was indeed deeply distorted and wrong. “I would have fought you, regardless of when.”
I never wanted to be mated; all I ever wanted was the fog.
“You did fight well, but I can create an environment that intoxicates you into a submissive state. It heightens your pleasure and seduces your senses. I don’t want you to think you were weak in spirit, when you were so very brave despite the fact you stood no chance in resisting me.”
Lured and confused, he’d said? More like drugged and addicted. The general had done something to me during our mating that made me want him. And I was so very ashamed that I had capitulated over and over.
The distracting, delicious sweet scent that enveloped me that night... I always thought it was the flowers in his office. But in all the years, it had been him testing the waters when I was near, to see how easily I might fall into his spell.
When he had startled me with that first kiss, I breathed it in deep, the effects nearly immediate.
And then there was the physical touch. The unusual rhythm booming from his chest that he had made sure I not only heard but felt skin-to-skin. It had driven me to match his rhythm. To move as he led. To allow.
Even the taste of him had been beyond compare.
It was so unfair. What was the point of fighting if I could not win? Dejected, I put my burning head in my hands. “Why do males have every advantage?”
“Because we are your slaves.”
17
Mated, I was nowhisslave. Trapped in the room with a man who had forced himself on me, at his mercy in every way. He could bend me over the table at will, force me to fulfill any sexual desire. He could even make me enjoy it.
“You don’t believe me?” he asked, somehow that appraising stare of his even more fiery. “I would literally follow you to my death. Starve myself so you could eat. Kill for you. But you—you may not return that sentiment without physiological encouragement. Hybrid females do not hear the song or even recognize their mates when we stand before you. Ten years you’ve been in my presence, and not once did you consider me as a suitor. If it were not for layers of protocols regarding the list of unmated females, males would be driven to fight for you amongst ourselves. The death toll would be astronomical. The species would fail. Hybrid males must encourage an addiction, forge a bond, or we would not be able to assure our mates remain under our protection.”
An addiction, he’d said?
So, that is what it meant to be mated. The great secret kept from academy girls.
Not only could we not choose who we might share a lifetime with, but a male we despised could force our compliance beyond just pinning us to the floor.
There was no possible way to keep him off me.
Leaning forward, the most brazen movement he had made since we had taken our seat at the table, he purred, “I can guess at what you are thinking. I’ll even concede that you may have good reason to imagine the worst. It is true we will end up on that bed, that you won’t be able to resist. That it won’t be rape when I can encourage you to grow drunk on pleasure. But I am not interested in taking advantage. You’re freshly mated, young, frightened, and ignorant about your true place in the world. I want you to come to me when you’re ready. In the meantime, I can help you with your heat without subjecting you to my knot.”
Heat. A very accurate description of the fire under my skin.
“You know what’s wrong with me.” It wasn’t a question.
Of course he did.
Male satisfaction, gentle compassion, the two opposing influences blended into Cyderial’s explanation. “You’re in withdrawal, and each symptom will grow worse if I do not tend to you. Should your heat progress too far, my darling, you will know pain. It will grow to a point where you will beg me for relief. But do not fear. I will not let you suffer in that way.”
A sinking feeling in my gut, I frowned. “So, either I submit to fornication, or suffer and then beg? Either way, you will be inside me.”
Tender smile and soft words on his lips, Cyderial proposed, “There are techniques to soothe the heat beyond a knot. I’m offering this to you.”
“Such as?”
The general had never touched his food, nor did it seem he had any interest in considering it. He stood instead, drawing up to full height and addressing the point directly. “Come with me and obey, or let me know if you would rather I entice you to bed and fuck you until you feel better.”
His hand was out before him, a clear challenge that I either took it or the room would begin to swim as he plied me with his male tricks.
There wasn’t a single soul who could save me from this.
Horrified, I stared at his outstretched hand, silent tears falling on flushed cheeks.
When I failed to move, the air began to smell faintly sweet, a beautifully scented threat that I had to make a choice. His hand or his cock. Lucidity or drunken lust.
