Corruption of the Rose

by S. J. Sanders

  She swallowed and met his gaze. “Their failure? At what?”

  “We will come to that later. Now what is your name?”

  Her eyes narrowed suspiciously on him. “Why?”

  A low sigh escaped him at her obstinance as he eyed her.

  “It is preferable to referring to you as mage or female… unless you prefer that, to exist here in a state without identity. It doesn’t have to be a real name. I don’t particularly care.”

  Her lips pinched together, and for a moment, he was certain that she would refuse him. Finally, she slunk back against her chain as she dropped onto the cushions, a sour expression on her face.

  “It is Rose Almander,” she muttered resentfully.

  The corners of his mouth twitched.

  “A rose… delicate, fragile, cultivated beyond what is natural, and spoiled with constant overattentive care,” he observed, earning him a hateful glare. He smothered a chuckle as he circled her leisurely.

  “Now tell me, Rose, will you beg to be bathed and fed tonight?”

  She started, her eyes widening in disbelief.

  “You want me to beg for basic needs?”

  “Yes. I will see that you have minimal needs met regardless, but will you beg to be fed well and bathed comfortably?”

  Her jaw hardened, her green eyes flashing with an inner fire in their liquid depths as she clamped her mouth stubbornly shut.

  “Ah. Very well. So we are not begging tonight.”

  Nodding his head, he picked up a brush near the hearth, lathering it with soap before picking up a bucket of tepid water set by the hearth. The water was just barely warm but cool enough to be uncomfortable when doused in it. Approaching her bed, he grabbed her chain, yanking her off the bed and over a drainage hole before dousing her with half the bucket of water.

  A garbled shout left her as she struggled against her chain, but he held her firmly as he set to scrubbing her with the brush, removing dirt and semen from her skin. Once he was satisfied that she was clean enough, he doused her again with the remaining water. Rose sputtered and coughed, glaring at him through her wet lashes, but he just bared his teeth in a grin that he knew humans found frightening.

  She shivered, a whiff of fear greeting his nose, but she didn’t shy away from him as he pulled her close to him to inspect his handiwork. He was gratified to note that not a trace of scent from the lupi remained clinging to her, nor mud or river water, for that matter. She smelled clean and fresh, even if she stood miserably in front of him, thoroughly soaked.

  Tugging her unceremoniously back to the bed, he reached down and lifted her up under one arm for only a moment, ignoring her indignant snarling and struggles. Instead, he shifted her to his other arm to whack her firmly three times across her ass, targeting different areas with each measured strike so that the entire surface of her bottom would sting before dropping her within the nest of pillows. Lifting up the blankets draped at one side of the pile, he threw them over her. He amused himself watching her struggle to surface from beneath the mass, but only for a minute before striding away.

  When he returned several minutes later, it was with a plate with a small hunk of bread, a chunk of dry cheese that the goblins had made some days ago, and a cup of water on a small tray. It wasn’t pleasant fare, but she wouldn’t go hungry. This he set before her as he tore a juicy mouthful of meat from a bone he held in his other hand. She stared at her plate in dismay, her gaze drifting to his food. He gestured with the bone.

  “Eat and gain your strength, Rose. Tomorrow, we begin.”

  “Begin what exactly?” she grumbled as she began to pick apart the bread, sticking smaller pieces into her delectable little mouth.

  He watched with interest as she chewed and swallowed the small bites, his own food momentarily forgotten. Shrugging away his fascination, he gave her another hard smile.

  “Your magical education,” he said shortly.

  She stared at him, her mouth not moving or making any attempt to chew the food in her mouth. Instead, a snort of laughter escaped her. Only then did she chew and swallow the morsel. “You are trying to convince me that you are a Master at magic? I am honestly impressed that you can speak civilly like a man, but you can’t expect me to believe that you are a Master.” She chortled disrespectfully.

  His tail flicked in agitation as he circled to the right, his eyes trained on her until she shifted tensely beneath his stare.

  “Regardless of the sort of man I started out as, I am more than a man now, and have been so for a great many centuries. I was taught by my own Master with the goal of someday passing down that knowledge to another. It is a difficult journey, however, that no other has yet survived. Let us hope that you will be the first.”

  With that harsh observation spoken, Saris didn’t deign to linger in her presence any further. Striding back up the long staircase to the hearth room, the lupi glanced up at him from where they were stretched before the comfort of the fire as he joined them. His gaze fell on the males, his lips curling back from his fangs as his tail stiffened out behind him in a dominance display. The males froze, their eyes watching him warily.

  “No one is to go down into the workroom. No one is to approach the mage without permission. The next male who even entertains the thought of touching her will suffer considerable pain. We have our responsibilities, regardless of her presence.”

  The males nodded at that reminder, many of them no doubt still healing from altercations with prey earlier in the day. Two males had been badly gored. It was fortunate that he hadn’t sent them out with the hunting party to seek the mage. He didn’t need them retearing healing wounds. Each of them would need to be ready for the hunt come morning.

  His message received, Saris drifted toward the table, Gnaval on his heels.

  “Saris, about the female…”

  Saris glanced at the male, the bonds of a lifetime of friendship comfortable between them. Of all the males, Gnaval was the male he had known the longest. They had grown up together as children and hunted together as youths. They even casually shared a woman between them more than once. Yet, strangely, the idea of having his oldest friend near Rose was distasteful to him as a proprietary nature he didn’t know he possessed surged within him.

  “What of her?” he growled.

  “She is the only female we have seen since we have become lupi. There will be less tension if you don’t keep her hidden away from us.”

  Saris bristled and stepped forward, a menacing rumble rising from his chest. The other male dropped his head submissively as Saris worked to regain control of himself.

  “Perhaps, when she is ready to mingle. When she has earned some small freedom, she will be permitted to be out here among us. Until that day, she will remain chained and at only my command.”

  Gnaval smiled, his fangs flashing with amusement. “She is yours, Saris,” he agreed.

  Saris nodded pensively as his teeth tore into the meat, somehow not tasting quite as sweet and delectable as he imagined Rose would taste.

  Chapter 8

  Rose tugged on the chain, putting the full force of her weight behind it. The metal ring didn’t so much as creak, much less shift. Sweat dripped down her bare back, her hands red and stinging from the bite of metal against her palms. She had been at it since waking, pulling at the ring in an attempt to break it free from its mooring. First she had tried her magic, just in case the bestia—no, the lupo—had been deceiving her. She had been able to feel the pooling energy within her and grab ahold of it, but whenever she tried to utilize it, it fell away as if she were a green student once more with no control.

  That had been an unpleasant discovery that led to her first attempt to break free. Fighting against the chain, she had worked herself into such a fury that she had briefly felt her magic pulsate around her, but as with such energy, it was untempered and difficult to control. It spun away and dissolved whenever she attempted to manipulate and direct it.

  Although the magic was still ther
e, and may have been accessible by an adept, the collar did exactly as her captor had said it would. It left her with no option but to attempt other methods of escape. Unfortunately, even those were limited, so she had applied herself continuously to working on the chain with some hope that eventually—if the force was repeated enough—the metal ring would dislodge. After a few hours, her hope was waning.

  She eyed the ring. One more time. She would give it one more try. Someone was bound to come soon. She didn’t imagine that Saris would leave her alone for long when he obviously had plans for her. A skitter of apprehension ran up her spine as she turned once more to the chain in front of her.

  Gathering the excess chain in her hand once more and shortening the length, she leaned back, pulling with all of her strength. A groan of stress bubbled up from between her lips, ending in a sharp cry of pain and frustration. Dropping down to the cushions, she stared at the dark ceiling, her breath wheezing from her in uneven pants.

  The damned thing wasn’t going to budge.

  She lifted one weary hand to wipe the sweat from her brow and rolled stiffly to her side to face the fire burning in the hearth. Someone had crept in while she had been sleeping to rekindle it. She doubted it was one of the wolves. While she was still confused over what had occurred the day before and the unbidden lust that had her react so uncharacteristically, the brutal way in which they had fallen upon her didn’t demonstrate any sort of tenderness or interest in her comfort. Saris was possibly an exception since he had demonstrated an interest in meeting her minimal needs—to keep her alive and reasonably healthy—and yet he did nothing himself without purpose. More likely he had assigned someone the duty of making certain that her room was warmed before she woke.

  Well, as warm as the large workroom could get. Such rooms were notorious for being uncomfortably cool. It hadn’t taken her long to identify exactly where she was being kept. Along the walls were several framed images illustrating magical principles, and the tables pushed against the far walls contained various ritual implements for great workings. Many of the things that she had been forced to abandon when fleeing the conservatory were in this room. Even the room itself would be considered luxurious to many mages, with a large adjoining room connected by an open door containing nothing but slate floor and walls and a single altar within.

  Her eyes left the door and fell on a desk in one corner of the room she was in. A large chair upholstered in a deep forest green sat behind an enormous desk. Just behind it, a massive bookshelf took up an entire wall, much of it hidden in the deep shadows of the room. The desk was far from the comfortable light of the hearth, but she could see an oil lamp with a decorative glass shade sitting at one corner of the desk that no doubt provided enough light to comfortably read by. The entire workroom was clearly a sanctuary to the Master who set it up.

  So where was he? And why was she chained to a makeshift bed in such a place?

  The door rattled and a heavy lock clicked, drawing her attention to the entrance just as the heavy oak door swung open. Saris stepped inside, his footsteps quiet despite the enormous bulk of his body. In his hand, he carried a tray as he directed a short greenish-brown individual with enormous pointed ears and hair falling in long, wild locks from his head to place a large chest beside the hearth. The instructions were carried out promptly, and the peculiar male wiped his hands on the sides of his loose trousers.

  “Do you require anything else?” the smaller male hissed from between a row of a sharp teeth that were visible as he spoke. Although his words were brusque, his overall manner was respectful to the lupo as he waited patiently for any other instructions.

  “That is all, Equiim. You may leave,” Saris replied, acknowledging the male’s service with a nod.

  “Call if you have need and I will send a goblin along to attend if I am not available,” Equiim grunted before stalking away, his body disappearing into a cloud of black of smoke.

  Rose stared at the spot where the goblin had disappeared. She had, of course, heard of the creatures, beings who dwelled in the Earth Kingdom, but little more than hearsay and rumor. Goblins did not care for humans and never came to the summons of a mage whose power was rooted in the earth element. In fact, their dislike for humans was so renowned that young mages were cautioned against approaching goblins at all. And yet it was serving here. Just one of many questions that were at the tip of her tongue as she watched Saris set the tray on a small table that had materialized beside her bed sometime during the night or early hours.

  Her eyes went to the tray and fell upon a bowl of thin gruel and more bread. The latter at least looked freshly baked, in contrast to the harder day-old bread that she ate the night before.

  “Do you wish to have better fare? Then set aside your pride and ask for it… sweetly.” His claws flexed as the last word fell from his mouth, reminding her who was in control.

  Rose stared at him mutinously, her jaw hardened as her lips pressed together. “I will not beg like a pet for scraps. I am a captive. It is of little surprise that you would choose to feed me as one,” she snapped as she drew the bowl closer to her.

  Saris chuckled, but it didn’t rise to his bright yellow eyes that never left her, intently watching every mouthful of food she consumed.

  “No, you are not a pet,” he agreed, his tail swishing behind his hind legs as he paced slowly, his eyes fastened on her. Somehow, they burned even brighter. “You are not even truly a captive. You are only as much a captive as you make yourself. Your circumstances are only as uncomfortable as you make them.”

  She set her spoon down and regarded him through a rising wave of frustration. “If I am not a captive, then release me and let me leave.”

  His mouth dropped open in a humorless grin. “Free yourself, mage. Even if you were capable at this time, I don’t think you would survive the monstrosities on this mountain. You are weak and undisciplined.”

  Anger blistered through her, and with it, the welcome rise of her power. He cocked an ear toward her as if aware of the flux, but he watched her in such an unconcerned manner that she faltered. He claimed that he was a Master. It seemed unlikely, given the monster that stood before her, but if that proved true he would be able to obliterate any of her offensive magic with enough strength to leave her burned out magically for days. She had seen it happen before to her fellow apprentices who thought themselves better than their even-tempered Master. She licked her lips and poured some water from the pitcher on the tray into a simple ceramic cup. Sipping from it, she narrowed her eyes at the lupo.

  “Where is your Master? All of this is hardly yours.”

  “It is not,” he agreed as he casually strolled over to the large chest. With a flick of the latch, he pushed it open, but his body blocked out the contents as he bent over it. “It is more accurate to say that I belong to the castle, and right now, you belong to me. I am a Master. My Master saw it as necessary for what he required of me, so that I would be able to command our allies, the goblins being among one of them. It was well-timed on his part, as I gained my Mastery shortly before he left us. I’ve failed my task too often for my liking, but I think I have worked out a way I might succeed with you,” he rumbled as he straightened and turned toward her.

  The light from the fire illuminated the leather straps in his hands, and Rose tensed as he drew near and lightly tossed the straps on her bed. He gestured to her food.

  “Eat. You will need your strength.”

  Rose hastily took another mouthful of the gruel, nearly choking on it in her mounting worry as she stared at the leather. She shook her head slowly. “I’ve apprenticed before, and never before has there been worry of death except in few rare circumstances, nor the implementation of anything like that,” she said, gesturing to the straps.

  He smirked at her, his fur rising and smoothing out once more. “Our goals are not quite the same. Curious that you did not achieve Mastery if you were formally apprenticed. I imagine that you were quite comfortable where you were.” />
  She blinked up at him, startled by the question, distracted by the way he picked one set of straps that were tethered together by iron hoops in the front and back. The move was so calculated, his regard so intense, that it made his casual questions seem a complicated dance between them designed to her enemy’s purpose. He was drawing out discussion for a reason, but she hadn’t yet discerned exactly what it was. She doubted it was purely out of any genuine interest in her. She swallowed with a prickle of uncertainty and debated not replying.

  The corner of his mouth hitched before he roughly pulled her to her feet. “Your stubbornness will make this process more difficult.”

  Before she could reply, he swung her around, binding the straps tight around her breasts, cupping the flesh around them, leaving most of the breast itself and the nipple exposed. He tightened the strap at her back before fitting another strap between her legs. The latter he attached to the rings at the front and back of her. It rubbed in an alarming fashion against the soft, already dampening folds of her sex. He didn’t stop there, however. He continued to thread and tighten straps until she was aware of several rings hanging from her body. Looping his finger through one ring, he hauled her into the inner workroom, her feet stumbling and skidding as she attempted to keep them under her.

  Stopping just before the entrance, he cranked a handwheel and the loud sound of something heavy lowering met her ears. Rose couldn’t see what, but it filled her with a sense of foreboding. She shoved back with her feet in an attempt to delay the inevitable, but he dragged her into the room at his side.

  Her eyes widened as when she saw the source of the noise. Just above the altar, several chains had lowered, each terminating in a hook. Fear pulsing through her, she tried to kick out her feet, but Saris easily picked her up and carried her to the center of the room, where he set her on the altar. Holding her in place with one hand, he reached up behind her and began to drag down the chains one by one, hooking them to the rings behind her.