by Zoe Parker
This is such a weird conversation to be having with him. Weird timing too. But it's been distracting. Maybe that’s his goal with it.
We are already back to home, sweet home.
‘No.’ I answer after thinking about it for a few seconds.
I slide, gratefully, to the floor to lay on my blanket. Turning on my side carefully, I exhale in relief. No way am I sleeping on my stomach or back tonight.
‘Why not?’
Lying will not work with him so I settle on the truth. ‘They were more fragile than me.’
‘You broke them?’
‘Yeah, you could say that.’ Broken one’s arm, to be honest. The other one’s ribs. Not entirely on purpose. They said they liked it rough. Problem was, I was too rough and we didn’t make it to the actual sex part. They didn’t make it to the breathing part the next day, either.
Neither of them wanted to stop at “no”. So, I made them. With prejudice.
‘I have broken many as well.’ He says it all nonchalant like he’s telling me about the weather.
Many? Exactly how many…nope, not going there. Sleep is calling me. Making my eyes heavy. I yawn once, tuck my hands under my cheek and let it have me. As my eyes close the final time, I realize his cool hands were guiding me to the cell and to the blanket the entire time.
Ten
Phobe
Iza has now discovered that the true evil here is not Arick. It is Darvena. Tonight, I sit here quietly watching while the guards fondle and beat her. Darvena is then going to allow her guests, whose faces I memorize, a turn. Watching Iza climb to her feet over and over again, no matter how many times they knock her down, is admirable.
She is so much stronger than I gave her credit for. I realize that now.
Her flashing eyes meet mine and for a moment I am held prisoner. Feeling that gaze to my bones. Iza winks, breaking the seriousness of that look. I cough, barely hiding the snort that almost escaped me. Does she ever take anything seriously?
I am not sure I truly want her to. This part of her awakens a new part of me.
Jameson clears his throat from where he stands beside of the Magistrate’s chair. I refuse to call it a throne, he is no King. But that is not what pulled my attention to him, it is what is in Jameson’s mind.
That fucking idiot.
Jameson is in trouble. Darvena wants him dead but Arick still sees the use of him. That is the only reason he is still alive. Ultimately, Darvena will get her wish. She needs someone else to blame. Jameson was tasked with making a potion that cured Blood Lock sickness, temporarily. Instead, it makes their sickness worse.
To save his own ass he is about to do something that I may kill him for.
“Jameson, you have seen the interactions between this rabble, what say you of their closeness?” Darvena asks nonchalantly.
“I cannot say with honesty that there is much. But I feel he has some regard for her, he hasn’t eaten her yet.” Jameson answers her nervously, his Adam’s Apple bobbing several times.
What a bloody coward. Iza befriended him when no one else would.
If he survives, which it is not looking like he will, he is going on the menu.
My shadows creep subtlety out of me as I focus on Darvena, Jameson goes silent. Watching her watch Iza, I know now why she hates her so. Because of me. The woman’s obsession is nothing new. I do not understand it, I do not want it, but she has it nonetheless. In her eyes, Iza is impeding my want of her.
There is not a force in existence or not that can ever make me want that bloody bitch.
I desire…
My eyes fall again on Iza. Iza is smirking at Rickher who holds her up by his fist in her hair. Blood drips steadily off her chin, forming a little puddle on the floor. My stomach tightens. I want to kill him. I want to kill them all. For once it has nothing to do with me.
I want to kill them all for—her.
Eleven
Iza
The Schoth came for us again. This is the fourth sleep in a row. Unusual for it to be so often. Which makes me suspicious that it’s possibly building up to something.
Sometimes the encounters consist of no more than petty insults and a display of Arick’s ownership of Phobe and now me. Tonight though…tonight has a different vibe to it. Seeing how they are looking at me this time, runs a chill up my spine. That does make me pay attention. The very close kind.
“What is that on her back?” Darvena asks from behind me.
Darvena is up to something. One of the King’s guards, who are usually silent observers’, steps forward.
“It looks like a tattoo,” he answers. The corner of my mouth rises in a smirk. Way to go Captain Obvious! “It’s of no Magikal consequence, we had a mage go over her when we brought her in, my lady.” The man scrambles to explain. The big chicken.
They can have a billion mages go over it and it will tell them nothing. Paul, my step-father, had tried all the tricks to discover its meaning. None of them brought answers to the table.
“I’ve been told you have a soft spot for one another. Is this true, half-breed?” Darvena observes, stepping into the line of sight.
“Answer!” Captain Obvious demands.
I remain silent, remotely curious who told them such a thing, keeping a blank expression on my face. There is only one person I know, besides myself and Phobe, that could know we spend time together.
Jameson. That sonofabitch. I’m going to strangle him.
Letting my anger feed my stubbornness I blank my expression. I have a lifetime of perfecting the poker face under my belt. Nothing they do will make me admit anything. Darvena’s golden eyes flash in anger at my silence.
A mail-gloved fist to the side of my head takes me to my knees, hard. I blink, frantically trying to clear my vision as stars swim before me.
Holy meatballs that hurt!
I spit blood on the floor and attempt to stand. A booted foot to the stomach lifts me a few inches off the ground, knocking me on my side. The breath whooshes out of me returning with a wheeze.
“Answer the lady!” Captain Obvious demands again. I’m too busy using every bit of willpower I have, to not plunk over face-first. Coughing, I taste more blood in my mouth. Gently, I cradle my stomach, feeling like someone is ripping my guts open, again.
‘You are stubborn, Iza.’ Phobe’s voice whispers through my mind, distracting me from the pain.
‘Yeah. Do I need to give you the nickname Captain Obvious, too?’
Kicked again viciously, I lose the battle of trying to get off the floor.
Determined to at least hold my silence I clench my teeth so hard one chips. Tears spring to my eyes but pure stubborn will keeps them from falling. Curling up into a fetal position I wait for the overwhelming urge to puke to pass.
Seeking that calm place inside myself to give me strength. Burning up the anger of betrayal as fuel.
‘I will not help you,’ Phobe cautions.
It isn’t the first time he’s said those words. I doubt it will be the last.
‘Good thing I hadn’t expected you to, then.’ I never expect him to.
“Answer her now, whore, or I’ll stomp your face into the floor.” Captain Obvious yells, spraying his gross-ass spit all over the side of my face.
I don’t doubt he will.
I take a deep hitching breath, and my ribs scream in protest.
“You hit like a girl,” I manage to get out in between breaths. It’s not a lie. I might be knocked stupid but I've been hit harder, by a girl.
“I think perhaps he misunderstood the Beast’s helpfulness, my love. He cares not a whit about her pain,” the golden-eyed bitch comments.
Truthfully, I don’t think he really does either.
“Then tonight shall be an interesting one.” I open my eyes to look in the direction of the Magistrate’s voice.
Written all over his face is a type of glee that gives me the immediate urge to run.
Whatever is in his head does not bode well fo
r me. My eyes go to Phobe’s face. Or him. Phobe looks down at me, his face lacking any emotion whatsoever. Which is nothing new.
The question in my mind right now is, can he read their minds, too?
“Leave us! Darvena and I are capable of controlling these two.” Arick orders.
The scuffling of departing feet breaks the silence and then the door slams shut.
A soft step next to my head brings my eyes around to Darvena again. But she isn’t looking at me. She's looking at Phobe, and it doesn’t take much imagination to figure out what she's thinking.
Darvena wants Phobe bad. That’s a look of a starving woman, and he’s her favorite candy bar.
While Phobe, finally showing something akin to emotion, looks at Darvena like her skin should melt off on the spot. That’s a homicidal look if I’ve seen one.
I rather like that look.
“I think we shall have ourselves a little experiment,” Arick remarks offhandedly from beside Darvena.
I look up at Phobe who stands deathly still, his face completely impassive once again.
It’s a lost cause if they think to use me to get to him. He’s helped me a time or two, yes, but that doesn’t mean he gives two shits about me.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, my love?” Arick asks, poking my boob with his boot. I look back and forth between the two megalomaniacs. What exactly are they thinking? It would be nice to have Phobe’s super mind powers.
Darvena has one of those alley cat smiles on her face, the one they get right before they eat your pet parakeet.
Uh-oh.
Yeah, kitty—cat, I know you’re the bigger psycho between the two.
“Pick her up, Beast,” Arick says, turning and walking out of my view. Phobe keeps his gaze from mine as he bends to pick me up. His body language gives nothing away as he holds me loosely against his chest.
I gotta say something.
‘You know what he’s planning.’ It isn’t a question.
I don’t expect an answer, merely hope for one. It doesn’t happen.
“Bring her to the wall.” I watch Phobe’s face as we cross the room.
I keep expecting him to trip since he isn’t looking down. Of course, he doesn’t. Might have made me feel a little better if he had. Still silent, he shackles me to the wall and steps back.
“Let us see if this rabble can melt his ice,” Arick says waving his hand towards me.
Melt his ice? What the hell does that mean?
“Yes, my love. Let us see her fail as the others before her.” This from Darvena.
I don’t know exactly what is going on but I'm starting to get an idea. I'm shackled to the wall—which is always bad for me—instead of standing in the corner like a forgotten piece of clothing.
Oh, boy.
“Beat her, unconscious—” Arick orders, taking off Phobe’s shackles. Arick hands him a flail. That's a first. "—with this."
My eyes fasten onto Phobe’s face. I know exactly what that means. My heart starts pounding in my chest. I exhale through my nose trying to calm it.
It sort of works.
Face stoic as always, he positions himself directly in front of me. Grabbing me roughly, he pulls my body flush against his. The body heat coming off him instantly warms my naked skin.
Without hesitation, he hand moves down my arm, his claws leaving welts as they scratch into my skin. While I just stand there with my mouth hanging open like an idiot.
None too gently, his touch trails down my back, sure. A shiver wracks me. Hot eyes meet mine, brightening more. Now they hold something much different than his normal nothing look.
I’m not a hundred percent sure what it is. I don't want to be sure what it is.
He hesitates a moment as if deciding something. When he begins moving his hand again, I realize that he’s made his decision. Stopping on my ass, he kneads it and pulls me even tighter against him.
Oh. Hell. Phobe is touching my ass. My bare ass.
What he’s doing is something I have only experienced once before, with him. Pulls me past the baggage I carry inside. While making me forget everything but him and the way he is making me feel right now. Yes, those things.
I shouldn’t be feeling this way, but my body has a completely different mind of its own. It likes what he’s doing, circumstances be damned.
The molten heat of his eyes meet mine again.
His light breaths tease over my suddenly sensitive lips. It’s agonizing how he hovers that sinful mouth over mine. Fire flashes brightly in his eyes.
Fucking mind reader.
At last, he ends the torture of me aching for something I can’t name. His too perfect lips touch mine. Following my instincts, I open my mouth to him. With a low growl, his completely seals ours together. Electricity jumping from his tongue to mine.
I’m lost.
Never in my life have I enjoyed anyone touching me. I hate being touched…until him. I want more. I want things I can’t think of words for.
I want it all.
Panicking at that thought, I try to jerk away but his sharp teeth on my bottom lip hold me prisoner. Once I stop moving, he sucks on it to ease the sting and his tongue finds mine again. This time he steals my very thoughts.
As suddenly as it began it ends. Sharp claws tear into the skin of my arm as he holds it in an iron grasp.
Anger shoots through me. Jerk. My eyes open and instantly I shut them again.
The first blow hits me like a truck. Right on my shoulder, tearing through my skin like butter. Jarring my entire body from the impact. Another hit shoves me back against the wall. And another. Another.
Stars swim in my vision as it connects with the side of my head. Sliding sideways I shake my head in vain to clear it. Phobe releases me and my shoulders pull painfully from my dead weight dangling from the shackles. My eyes open against my will.
Something warm and wet dribbles down the side of my face. Painting my vision red as it fills the socket of my left eye. Which actually benefits me, I don't want to see him swinging the damn thing at me. It’s not like I blame him, this isn’t his fault.
But who wants to watch a flail bash their face in?
'Stop being so fucking stubborn, Iza.'
I meet his gaze and blink the blood out of my eyes so I can see…all three of him.
'Sue me, it's a flaw.' I think back at him the minute my head stops spinning.
Having a moment of inspiration, I let my head drop, forcing the rest of myself to go limp. Let's see if this will fool the order Phobe was given.
“You’re done, Beast. I’ll deal with her.” Cold water wouldn’t have drawn me out of this pain filled haze as quickly as those words do.
Arick appears beside me, lifting my head, he smacks my face until my eyes open. Once they do he grabs my arm in a bruising grip. He turns me to look towards the bed. I realize very quickly we are positioned to face where Phobe is being pulled down between Darvena’s legs. Darvena who has stripped to nothing but a thin, see-through gown.
I struggle against Arick’s hold. I don't want to watch this. I don't want his hands on me. I don’t want her hands on Phobe.
“If you don’t stop moving, I will give you to the guards.” Arick snarls in my ear his breath heavy and smelling of something foully sweet.
I let my aching face go slack adopting a bored expression. Feel my body become numb and boneless. In my heart, I know if they give me to the guards it will break the fragile goodness of what I experienced with Phobe. It will bring all the nightmares back, and I’m not sure one good memory will survive.
A memory, I find, I truly want to survive.
The one of him having to hit me with the flail, not so much.
“Satisfy her, Beast,” Arick instructs Phobe. His voice thick with his own disgusting arousal. I can feel the truth of it against my hip.
I fight to keep my turbulent emotions under control. It takes more effort than it has before, forcing myself not to think of the woman eagerly
fondling Phobe's limp penis. Darvena’s like a parasite sucking away the fire that burned moments before between Phobe and me.
The emotions attached to it, I have no right to feel. But I refuse to let them be taken from me.
Going inside myself instead of full on watching her basically raping Phobe. I think of the way his eyes lit when he kissed me. Unlike the nothing that is in them now. I relive what his kissing me felt like. The heat of his mouth, the taste of cool night air on his tongue.
So many feelings to sort through. Feelings I have absolutely no idea how to deal with…complete absorption in another being. Lost in him. Yeah, no idea at all.
Just like his heart beats in my ear.
How much of that was Phobe and how much of it was Arick’s order? Hell, how much of it was me?
“Enjoying the show? Maybe I really should let the guards have you since you’re too ugly for me to fuck,” Arick says tugging hard on my hair.
The brutality of that statement reminds me of exactly what position I am in. Reminds me of things that even the beatings did not. I’m once again at the whim of another. A toy to be abused and eventually discarded. A no one.
And they have seen one of the few memorable experiences in my life.
‘They saw nothing.’ Phobe says softly in my mind.
Strangely reassured I believe him. Gritting my teeth, I raise my chin and my resolve. I’m not even going to hold it against him for snooping in my brain.
“If you do not please her, I will give this one to the guards.” Arick tugs roughly again on my hair, his frustration with Phobe becoming apparent.
The threat has no effect. Phobe continues as if he didn’t hear anything. The glowing stone appears beside of my face. “I order you to feel pleasure with her!” Arick yells. This time there is an immediate response.
Phobe grabs a handful of Darvena’s white hair and pulls her head to the side. His mouth opens, exposing his many sharp teeth, that grow in length and deadlier in seconds. Phobe's going to bite her. Even though he doesn’t have to use his teeth to feed he’s going to. Causing her pain gives him pleasure.
