by Jane Henry
“You have disobeyed me,” he says severely, his voice a deep rumble I feel through my entire being. But then he looks at my cheek, where I was struck, and his eyes soften. He looks sorrowful, even, as he reaches and gently strokes my cheek with the back of his hand. “He struck you,” he says, as his voice lowers to a rumble. To my shock, he bends down and his whiskery kiss flutters across my bruised skin. “Did he harm you in any other way?”
I shake my head dumbly, unable to understand the strange emotions welling in me at his unexpected tenderness. He pulls my head to his chest. His voice is still low but now tremulous as he speaks. “Would that I had killed him,” he says. “I may yet.”
I do not respond. I do not know what to say. This man is my captor, and yet he would seek vengeance for me.
He lifts his head and speaks sharply to Idan. “You and I will have words after our meeting this afternoon. After I’ve had time to decide on how you should be punished for your failure to keep her safe.”
I look in surprise at Idan. He has fallen to one knee, his head bowed. “Yes, my lord. I offer my most sincere apologies,” he says. “My life is forfeit for my failed duty.”
His life? But the savage shakes his head. “Your life shall not be forfeit for having allowed the little brat to slip from your fingers,” he says, “but you will answer for it. Go, prepare for our meeting. We will speak of this later.”
Idan rises, and with a nod, takes his leave.
I am left alone with the savage. He grasps the back of my neck, tilting my face so that I may look into his eyes. “Why were you here?” he asks. “What is it that you were hoping to accomplish by sneaking to the dais?”
I cannot tell him. I avert my eyes and shake my head. “I merely needed some space and privacy.”
A jerk of my hair startles me, as he pulls my head back to look at me. “An isolated cell would give you both space and privacy, if that is what you desire,” he says. His voice lowers to a growl. “And you lie.” His patience is now gone, the tenderness wiped from his features, as he grasps me by the arm and we take our leave. I am going to be punished. I know of no means to escape.
Chapter Eight
Aldric
I am shaking with fury, but I must temper my anger, maintain control. Idan has failed me and will answer for it. But the woman… she belongs to me, and yet she dares to defy. I regret having left her for a moment. I should have kept her closer to me, and not let her out of my sight. Though women are not allowed in the court of the Hisrach, I must not allow her such an opportunity again.
When I saw the man strike her, I was filled with the rage of a warrior in battle, prepared to slice the neck of the man who dared raise a hand to my woman. Her voice, the terror in her eyes, and her pleading for me to show mercy halted me from exacting fitting retribution for his crime. Now I wish I had not allowed myself to be swayed. My thirst for vengeance has not been sated. Though I will punish her, and my punishment will surely bring about pain, I would never raise a hand to her as he did. Only weak men would raise a fist to a woman. Even in a land where women are taught obedience, even as I am master over her, it is weakness to strike a woman in such a way. Though I will administer a firm punishment, I will not mar her or inflict more than a stinging backside that will remind her of her obedience to me in the days to come.
I can be a merciful man. But now is not the time for me to show mercy. Today, she will feel the sting of my lash.
As I march her through the marketplace, my men flank either side of us in military formation as they’ve been instructed to do. I am deaf to the noises and blind to the sights, intent only on ensuring I have taught my woman the lesson she must learn. She skips beside me, her little legs trotting to keep up with my long strides, and I lose patience at the length of time it is taking for me to get her alone in my chambers. Briefly pausing, I pull her in front of me, bend down, and lift her in my arms. She gasps, but now that she is safely secured, I can walk more quickly, unencumbered by her slower steps.
We enter the palace. My servants line the walkway, awaiting our approach. I turn to Lystava. As head of staff at my palace, she will command the others to do as I say. “See to it that we are left alone,” I order. “I wish for no service until I call you.” Turning to the rest of my servants, I raise my voice. “Away!”
They scatter from our presence, as I approach my chambers. I place Carina down on her feet, but quickly grasp her arm as we make our way to the door. We enter quickly, and I slam it behind me. Now that we are alone, my duties cleared for the time being, I think about what she’s done. She deserves a whipping. She disobeyed me, disobeyed Idan. I know not why this woman is here, or what her errand in the forest was. Was she attempting to thwart my plans and eavesdropping on the Hisrach? Does she have spies here in my land who would join with her in arms against the Avalerians? She deserves to be whipped for her secrecy and lies, but as I think of what’s just transpired, my hands shake with tempered fury.
Her actions could have gotten her killed, and it infuriates me that the realization somehow trumps her other infractions.
I point at the bed. “Remove your tunic and sit at the edge of the bed,” I order.
She shakes her head. “No, my lord,” she begins, as if somehow she has anything to say that will convince me not to punish her. She stands, her hands splayed out in front of her, a plea for mercy.
“No?” I ask in shock. The woman is mad to defy me.
“I-I merely tried to get away for a bit,” she explains.
Does the woman think me an imbecile?
“What was your errand in the forest?” I ask her. “Your purpose? Carina, why have you come to Avalere?” I must know.
She shakes her head, as I advance upon her.
“You will be punished for your lies and secrecy. I will know why you are here, and what your purpose in the forest was.”
“No errand,” she says, and I know she lies. “I merely tried to have some time alone. I am sorry that I fell upon those men, but—”
“Sorry?” I ask, my anger rising along with my voice. “Do you think me an imbecile? You think I believe a woman from Freanoss infiltrates Avalere with a weapon for sport, with no harm intended to my people?” My temper flares as I step closer to her. “You are sorry that you put yourself—my possession—in harm’s way?”
Her eyes flash at me, her arms crossed on her chest. “You do not own me!” she shouts.
I close the gap between us in one long stride, as she backs quickly away from me, the back of her legs hitting the bed and making her stumble into a sitting position.
I grasp her hair and pull, eliciting a cry from her. “That is where you are wrong, my Carina,” I say. “And when I am through with you, there will be nary a doubt in your mind that every inch of you belongs to me.”
She is staring at me wide-eyed and trembling, her fear apparent. It is well that she is afraid. She ought to be afraid of me. When I am done with her, she will fear me all the more. I have been too gentle, too merciful. Today, she will learn her lesson. I grasp her chin in my hands, leaning down to order in a harsh whisper, “Now strip.”
Her hands shaking, she reaches for the edge of her tunic and lifts it up, slowly revealing her naked form beneath, the swell of her breasts rising and falling with each breath she takes. She lifts it over her head, her eyes closed as she finishes undressing. When the fabric is bunched above her head, I snatch it from her, flinging it away. It falls to the floor in a pool of vibrant blue. She now sits in front of me naked. Her eyes open and she stares.
“If you hadn’t been seen passing our company, and I hadn’t found you, what would have happened to you?”
She frowns, but does not answer. There is no need to continue discussion. I stand above her, my eyes focusing on hers, as I remove the two swords at my waist. I lay them on my table, then unfasten the leather sword belt. Her eyes travel to my waist. She swallows, as I hold the belt in my hand and draw closer. I could bind her hands before I punish her. I could
require she lie face down on the bed. But it is far better for me to hold her upon my lap. When her punishment begins, she will want to escape. If she is over my lap, I can be sure she stays until I’ve delivered every last stripe.
As I approach the bed, she begins to shake her head from side to side, moving backward. I have had enough of her disobedience.
Quickly, I grab her arm and pull, sitting on the edge of the bed and dragging her bodily over one knee. I double my belt, making sure that the buckle is well hidden in my hand.
“No!” she shouts, her hand reaching back to stop me. I grab her hand and push it on her back, as her small form squirms, trying to get away, trying to fight me. She has no recourse. I will whip her soundly until I feel she’s sufficiently punished. “You cannot do this!” she howls.
I ignore her protests, lift the belt, and snap it, delivering a hard lash to her naked backside. She screams, jerking away from me, an angry red stripe rising across her bottom. I lift the lash and deliver a second blow, this time lower, then another, the loud snap of the leather on naked skin mingling with her shouts and protests. I continue whipping her backside with steady, firm strokes of my belt. She is nowhere near sufficiently punished, as she is still fighting me, howling in protest. She has not seen the errors of her ways.
She will suffer, but she will see.
Finally, her hands stop flailing, and she seems less combative. I push her off my lap and onto the bed as I get to my feet behind her, my hand on the small of her back.
“Stay in position,” I order, my instruction a harsh release. Now that I’ve gotten her to take her whipping, or at least to stop flailing her arms, I no longer have to subdue her as securely. I can administer a firmer punishment if I stand behind her. I release the doubled-over belt and allow the tail end to form a lash. I bring it back and swing it, the tail curving around her upturned bottom. Her feet come straight off the floor as she howls in pain, but I do not stop, building a steady rhythm as the lash falls again and again. Her naked skin is now striped thoroughly. She will feel this strapping for a good long time to come.
“Why did you leave?” I ask, underscoring my desire for her honesty with a cut of the belt. She flinches, but shakes her head. “What purpose was your errand?” Another hard lash as she remains silent. I growl. “Were you attempting to get to a portal? Spy on my people? Escape?”
She shakes her head. “No!” she wails.
My pulse quickens at her stubbornness. I must teach her what will happen if she disobeys. I must keep her safe.
I lean in close to her, my hand on her lower back. “Why am I punishing you?” I ask. I will not get to the bottom of her deception now, so instead I will focus on underscoring the need for her to obey me.
“I disobeyed you, my lord,” she says, a near shout, desperate to stop her punishment.
I nod. “You did. My instructions were meant to keep you safe. You belong to me, and I will not allow you to endanger yourself again.” I stand, rear back, and swing the belt hard once again, landing with a solid thwap against her naked bottom. She screams, coming up on her toes. I deliver another stripe, then another, before I lean in to her again. “And what could’ve happened to you if I hadn’t come for you?”
She shakes her head. I am not sure if she is defying me, or she simply does not know the answer to my question. I bring my arm back even further, the belt connecting in the hardest swat I’ve delivered yet. I reach for her hair, yanking a fistful of it back. She gasps, her body braced in pain. I lean down and hiss in her ear, “I said what could’ve become of you? Answer me!”
She does not.
I will find her tongue with my belt. Growling, I step back and snap the belt on her backside three more times without pausing a beat. She screams in pain. I lean down a second time. “I asked you a question. What would have happened if I hadn’t come for you?”
Still, she is silent. I stand, prepared to spank her again, my anger rising at her stubbornness, but as I raise my arm to strike, she yells, “I would have gotten hurt! I may have been violated!” A sob escapes her now as she fists the blanket beneath her hands, her eyes shut tight. “I might have escaped.”
I feel my eyes narrow, as I fight the urge to sympathize. She belongs to me. The woman is mine. I will not cow to sympathy when I need to stay strong and discipline her for her willful disobedience. “You would have been hurt,” I growl. “You would have been violated. You might have been murdered.” I punctuate my words with a final cut of the lash. She gasps from the sting of it. “But you would not have gotten away. You would not have escaped,” I insist. “Because by the gods, you belong here. You were meant for me. We are fated to be together, and you are mine.”
She quiets. I wonder at her stillness. I must maintain my sternness before I minister to her. “Will you obey me, Carina?”
Her shoulders slump, her body stills, as she whispers into the blanket, “Yes, my lord.”
I exhale. She has taken her whipping. Now I must complete my job.
* * *
I drop my belt and go to her, gathering her in my arms, prepared for her to push me away, but she does not. I have never seen my little one cry, but she weeps now, tears flowing freely. I carry her to the head of my bed, where I lie down and position her over my chest, her head over my heart. I run my hand through her hair, while hushing her. “Shhh, little one,” I say. “It is over, my Carina.”
But she cries on. I hold her in silence until her tears slow. I am not sorry I punished her. If given the choice to repeat my actions, I would do the very same. It is imperative she obey me.
I am sorry to see her weep, though. It is time she be consoled.
She is curled up on my bare chest, while I run my hand down her head and over her back, slowly stroking my hand over her punished bottom. She flinches a bit, but as I massage firmly, she relaxes. “Hush, my Carina,” I say. “You must not disobey me.” I suspect she weeps now for what she has lost, her home and her people, perhaps despair at not being able to complete whatever mission she intended. I cannot be angry with her now. She hurts. “I do not know much about your planet, but what little I do know has taught me thus: I do not wish for you to return. It is my firm belief that though it is your native land, it is best that you are with me now.”
She does not respond.
“And since you are mine, you will obey me.”
I hold her until she stills, her tears finally slowing. She does not tell me what is in her heart, but I can feel it, sense it. I know she is mourning the loss of her home planet, but there is more. I am not sure yet what it is, but she clings to me upon my chest, an almost desperate holding on. I bend down and kiss her damp forehead, her naked form and her submission to me causing a deep stirring within me, my manhood hardening beneath her. I long to claim her, but I will be patient.
I run my hand slowly through her soft, dark tresses, from her crown to her neck, and when my hand reaches her neck, I gently but firmly grasp. “Will you obey me, Carina?” I ask. “Are you going to do as you are told?”
She nods her head slowly. “Yes, my lord,” she whispers. After a moment of silence, she asks, “What will happen to those men?”
I frown. It is an honest question, but it angers me to be reminded of their filthy hands on her. Vengeance still flares within me. It is only out of deference to her wishes that they do not lie now, heaped in shallow graves.
“They will hang,” I state. “They laid hands on the king’s woman. They stole what did not belong to them.”
“It is a harsh penalty,” she says. Her reaction puzzles me.
“You think it harsh, little one? You come from a land that ends the life of humans past their prime, and infants who bear marks of imperfection. And you think it harsh that in this land, that those who choose to defy the law are accordingly punished? We are no more savage than those on Freanoss. The only difference is that here, people have the choice. Those men chose poorly.”
She lifts her tearstained face to mine. “You speak lie
s,” she whispers.
She is brave to accuse me of such when I have just striped her soundly for disobedience. I am well within my rights to punish her again for such an accusation, but I will not. Her words need further probing. I am surprised for a moment that she accuses me of lying. Is she not aware of the ways of her people?
“I do not,” I say to her. “I wish to find what your thoughts are on the ways of your people. And you will tell me why you have come here. But I must meet with the Hisrach shortly, and news I have received today makes the meeting imperative.”
Her eyes look troubled and her lip trembles. “You must leave me?” she asks. The minute the words leave her mouth, she casts her eyes down. She seems as if she regrets speaking so frankly, but it is clear my little one does not wish for us to be separated.
I kiss her forehead again, this time threading my fingers through her hair and resting them on her neck as I do so. “Would you prefer I not meet with my men?” I ask.
She is quiet and does not respond, a little finger tracing along the dark, curly hair on my chest. “It is strange, how you have hair on your chest,” she says.
I stifle a chuckle. It is endearing how she’s changed the subject, but she must learn to answer me when I ask her a question.
“Carina,” I warn. Her eyes widen as she looks up at my tone. I tug a lock of hair.
“Yes?” she whispers.
“Answer the question. Do you wish me to stay with you?”
She closes her eyes briefly, biting her lip. She does not speak, but nods.
Though I wish to have her near, and also wish to be present at the counsel, it occurs to me that much of what I need to learn I’ve already learned at this morning’s gathering. I have an option that may work in our favor.
“If you wish me to stay, then it will be so,” I say softly, bringing the hand that lay on my chest to my lips, and kissing her fingers. “I will give the orders necessary so that I may be informed, but I shall stay with you. Yes,” I say, sure now that my decision is the right one. “I shall stay with you.”
