Idan: A Sci-Fi Warrior Romance (Heroes of Avalere Book 2)

by Jane Henry

  I hope my appearance pleases him.

  He could’ve chosen another out of the ring.

  The flicker of the candles gives me an almost other-worldly appearance, and suddenly, I am very tired. Tomorrow may bring anything. After cleaning myself, I leave, hoping that by now my new master will be asleep.

  I am not prepared for him to be by the door, and I jump at his presence.

  I cast my eyes down, trying to hide the purple tinge.

  “My lord. You startled me.”

  “Merely waiting for you to finish so I can extinguish the candles, wife.” Has he uttered the word “wife” with sarcasm? I nod, moving out of his way. Conscientious, of course. He grasps my wrist. I stifle a gasp. Has he already learned of my deception?

  “Wait for me,” he orders. “When I snuff the final candles, we will be in darkness.”

  Is the fierce warrior tender? Conflicted, I stand by and wait for him. A whisper of his breath behind me, and the room darkens, the scent of heated wax and the smoke from the extinguished candles filling my senses. In near darkness, his physical presence is consuming. Though the man has bedded me, his coming from behind underscores how much larger and stronger he is than I am. He holds me and whispers in my ear, goose pimples rising along my flesh at the feel of his whiskers and the sound of his deep voice.

  “We’ll go to bed now.” His warm hand engulfs mine easily, as he walks in front of me. One lone candle on the bedside table lights our room, casting a yellowish glow. He spins me around to face him before he grasps the hem of my tunic, lifting it. “You’ll sleep as I wish,” he commands, “bared to me.” My heart thumps as he lifts my tunic. I do not protest.

  Though I am determined to sacrifice myself for my family, my body contradicts my principled mind. My nipples rise, hardening at his rough touch, thighs pushing together as his fingertips graze my naked skin. The effects of the wine, I tell myself. My body readily responds to a man’s touch, mere instinct having nothing to do with his power and strength.

  No man will be my undoing.

  After he removes my tunic, I stand before him, hidden in the darkness, the room lit by the flickering candle. Completely divested of my scant clothing, I gasp as he leans in close to me.

  “So easily startled, sweetness?” His tender words contradict the thread of steel running through them. My belly clenches with foreboding. “I am merely turning down the blankets so you can rest.” The bed looks so inviting. Perhaps tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep, the fierce warrior will be more amenable.

  “I’m exhausted, my lord,” I sigh, and as he leaves my side, I climb beneath the covers. It feels so good. I’ve not rested well in weeks, and I long for a good night’s sleep. Will I be able to sleep by the side of this strong warrior, my family’s future now secured?

  He leans over to where the remaining candle flickers, and, with a quick huff, he plunges the room into darkness. The bed sags as his heavy frame turns toward me. Will he keep his distance or draw close to me? I shiver, but not from cold.

  I roll over on my side. When he wakes in the morning, if I lie facing away from him, perhaps I will buy myself some time. Perhaps he will even be called to his duties before I rise, giving me an even longer time of reprieve.

  He loops a hand around my waist and pulls me against his torso, his manhood hardened against my backside. It seems he wasn’t sated.

  “As your husband, I will have your real name.”

  Icicles of fear prickle my skin, my breath catching in my throat. He has not believed me?

  I swallow. “My lord?”

  Deeper now, “Your name, wife.”

  “My lord, I told you, my name is — ow!” I cry out when his palm slaps against my naked bottom.

  “Your name.”

  I freeze. He grasps my backside and squeezes. It hurts, but, as I try to squirm out of his grasp, he holds fast. “Svali,” I choke, my voice cracking.

  He freezes. “Svali?” Does he recognize my name? I squeeze my eyes tight.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Very good, Svali,” he approves. “Now, rest. Tomorrow, you will face punishment for your lies.”

  I lie still in the darkness, listening to his breathing slow. I stare, unblinking, in the darkness, dreading the next morning.

  ⊱⟢⋯⟣⊰

  When I wake, light filters in through a small window. I lie still, attempting to assess my situation. I no longer feel my husband at my back, and my heart sinks. I hoped the intimacy of waking together might soften him. I listen for sounds about the house. I have never lived in a home with servants before. Surely they would make some noise? Maybe he’s gone for an early morning meeting or something. It feels so decadent here in this bed, the soft down of the pillow under my cheek, the weight of the warm blanket about me. I miss the feel of him beside me, but immediately force myself to stop thinking such frivolous thoughts. I must stay my purpose.

  I roll over and open my eyes, but he is not there. I exhale then turn to my side. Sitting in a chair by the window, one leg crossed over the other, sits my husband, gazing at me with a cold, calculating look. I shiver.

  “Good morning, my lord,” I say. He strokes his long, auburn beard, his eyes fixed on me. Bare-chested but wearing leather pants, with the markings about his arms and neck, he appears menacing.

  “Good morning, Svali,” he greets. “Are you hungry?”

  My stomach gnaws with hunger and nerves, but I cannot think of eating anything at this juncture.

  “No, my lord.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks, his gaze narrowed on me. “Deception is hard work.”

  My heart patters in my chest, and my mouth goes dry. “I know not of what you speak, my lord,” I say, attempting to sound innocent.

  In a split second, he has crossed the room to me. I forgot his size. I shrink back against the covers as nears. With one swift move, he yanks the blankets off me.

  I squeal, reaching for my coverings, but he tosses them to the floor and pulls me to him. My chest tightens with fear as he wraps his hand around my long hair and pulls.

  “Midnight hair and dark-brown eyes,” he growls. “And now before me lies the woman with golden-brown hair and violet eyes, the one who would have seduced me had I been a weaker man. No?”

  “I am, my lord,” I moan, pain in my scalp causing my vision to blur. “Please, release me!”

  “I will release you all right,” he says, and the next thing I know, I lie facedown over his lap, puzzled by this change until I feel the sharp slap of his hand on my naked bottom.

  “You will tell me the truth!” he growls. “As mine, you are subject to my dominion over you. Tell me the truth!” He punctuates his words with another sharp, stinging smack.

  He’s spanking me like a naughty little child. How humiliating. I squirm upon his lap, but I cannot get away from him. Another hard swat has me screaming out loud. “My lord! Why are you — oww!” Two more rapid swats fall on my naked skin. He’s secured one on my waist, the other paused to strike again.

  “The truth, woman,” he insists, with another heated swat.

  I’ve never been spanked like this before, and the intensity of the pain startles me. My skin burns. “I — my name is Svali,” I say. “Yes, I was a woman of the night, but I haven’t always been so, my lord. I had to support my family. I wish to change my reputation, redeem myself, and I thought subservience to the Hisrach would be my best option.” I tell him as much of the truth I can without revealing too much.

  “Your family?” he queries.

  “My family, my lord?” I stall too long, and the flat of his palm descends in another sharp smack. “They are dead!” A lie, of course, but I will not tell him my family lives in poverty on Kleedan. I must earn his favor first, if I am to help them.

  “Deceased?” he asks, while I lie over his lap.

  “Yes,” I insist. “They were victim to a mining accident on Kleedan.” I insert an appropriate amount of sorrow in my statement, and he seems to buy it. At
least I’ve managed to stay his palm. In the quiet, I am suddenly aware of my nakedness over his sturdy lap, the warmth of his muscled legs clothed in leather beneath my bare belly. Though he is warm and strong, I wish to be released. “I have lived here on Avalere for some time, and when I heard the Hisrach needed women to give themselves in servitude, I took my chance.” He does not reply at first, and I wonder if I have managed to fool him.

  “You knew that we recruit women prepared to train,” he says. “And as a woman who has served multiple men, you decided to sneak your way into the circle.”

  My heart sinks at hearing his words, but I nod my assent. I yelp as he smacks my backside one more time.

  “Do you have anything else to say, Svali?”

  “No, my lord,” I whisper, hoping this time he will release me, but he does not.

  “Very well,” he says, his voice low and strangely calm. “Then you will now face your punishment for your deception.”

  I gasp and squirm. My skin already stings and burns, and I know not what he has planned. “My punishment, my lord? I’ve already been punished!”

  He chuckles, lifts his knees, and adjusts me so that I’m more secure upon his lap. “Woman, I elicited information from you effectively. I have no time to waste on games or child’s play, and I have learned that measured pain often draws out the truth quicker than other methods. But you lied to me. You altered your appearance and withheld the truth. As my wife, you will learn to obey me and that, if you disobey me, you will face my displeasure. Am I clear?”

  I nod, my chin bobbing up and down, grazing the blanket on the bed, as I twist toward it. “Yes, my lord,” I respond.

  “Very good. Then you will receive an even dozen strokes as punishment, and I will instruct you as to what I expect when I am finished.”

  I swallow, my mouth dry. I’ve easily taken half that over his knee, so I will face the remaining twelve with confidence.

  “Yes, my lord,” I say, submitting myself to him in both word and deed, as I no longer fight but accept his punishment. By law, he may do anything he wants to me. He could have me chained and imprisoned, or punished in public. At least he’s chosen to punish me within the privacy of his own room.

  “You will count your strokes, Svali,” he says, his deep baritone ringing in the stillness.

  I close my eyes. “Yes, my lord,” I whisper, nervous now. He is strong and powerful. I can feel his innate strength as he holds me. My husband has fought battles and won; he is the closest adviser to King Aldric, a man who wields enormous power and responsibility. I did not know he would be the warrior who chose me, but now I am his, draped over his lap. The ignominy burns, my cheeks aflame as I feel his large, warm hand on the hot skin of my punished backside.

  “Why are you being punished, woman?”

  “I deceived you, my lord,” I answer. My chest constricts.

  I have no time to decipher the feeling, as he continues to speak. “As my servant and mate, you will obey me, Svali.” His hand falls hard, the snap echoing in the quiet of the room.

  I gasp from the pain but remember my duty. “Yes, my lord. One.”

  He says nothing, but the next crisp swat lands, searing. “Two,” I whisper.

  My eyes are damp with tears, my throat tight as I manage to choke out one disgraceful number after another. “Six,” I say. My voice cracks.

  “My job is to protect you,” he says, his hand resting on my hot, stinging skin. “And I cannot do so if you insist on deception and lies. Last night, you angered me, but, in the light of day, I feel more merciful. After I have disciplined you, we will put this behind us and face our duties. Do you understand me, Svali?”

  “Yes, sir,” I whisper. I have never called a man “sir,” but the word tumbles from my lips unbidden as I lie naked and disgraced over his lap.

  He pauses before he speaks again. “You will learn to obey me, Svali.” The tenderness in his voice surprises me.

  Another hard swat falls, then another. As I count each strike, my voice rises as if unbidden, counting along in a steady rhythm. Swat. A gasp. I squirm. I count. Swat. He has made it to ten, and I feel as if I can’t take any more. It hurts, it burns, his enormous palm effective and unforgiving.

  “Count, Svali,” he insists, with another hard smack.

  “Eleven, my lord,” I gasp.

  “Very good.” He tenses, then delivers the hardest spank he’s administered yet.

  “Twelve,” I sob, tears spilling on my cheeks and the bed, both sorrow and relief now flowing freely as I weep. His palm smoothes over my punished skin, rubbing out the burn as I lie, spent, over his knee.

  “Will you do as I say?” he asks.

  I nod, trying hard to staunch the flow of tears, to no avail. “Yes, my lord. Certainly, my lord,” I sniffle. I still have not told him the whole truth, but I wish to please this stern man. His rough hand caresses my aching backside.

  “As your lord and master, it is my duty to ensure your obedience to me,” he says. “But after my duty calls me to discipline you, it then becomes my duty to soothe you.”

  “Yes, my lord,” I whisper. I don’t trust my voice. My body acts on instinct, as I weep like a small child. My crying shames me. I do not understand why I weep so. As warm tears roll down my nose, and I taste the saltiness on my tongue, my body presses up against his. My nipples brush against the bed, my sex flush against the warmth of his legs. As someone who has given herself to men sexually, I am used to touch. I must be some sort of deviant to be aroused by being punished. As he strokes my naked skin, dampness pools at the apex of my thighs, and my breathing becomes more labored.

  “Come here, wife.”

  He lifts me up then and, to my surprise, he cradles me against his bare chest. Oh, I like being held like this. I feel small, and he so much larger. I know now why women here on Avalere find their fierce men so attractive. There is something raw and unbridled about him. I like being held by him like this. He kisses my forehead, a warm, whiskery kiss that belies the warrior’s fierceness.

  “You will obey me, Svali?” he asks.

  “Yes, my lord. I am sorry, my lord."

  He nods once, as his stormy gray-blue eyes meet mine. “Very good. Soon, then, I will have the whole truth.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Idan

  Aldric would laugh if he saw me now. He would throw his head back and bellow with laughter. After punishing the woman I call wife, I now hold her upon my lap with tenderness.

  I could not help it, though.

  She deserved punishment for lying, but I am not truly angry with her. I will find out the whole truth. This woman has reason to be here, the truth hidden behind a brave facade. I have learned in my training to decipher emotions. The spanking I gave her brought forth repentance, but so much more. I have no time to dwell, however, as there is much to do as I assume my new role as duke.

  “Come, now, Svali.” My cock tightens beneath her fiery bottom. I wish to take her, to claim her once again as mine and sate my desire, but I must perform my duties first. “We will breakfast in the main hall, as we learn the lay of our land here. Fetch your tunic, and I will dress you.”

  She frowns, looking up at me with those deep violet eyes, both bewitching and unnerving. “You will dress me?” she asks.

  “You will have ladies in waiting to serve you as well, but it is my duty to dress you.” My voice deepens. “Now, Svali. Do as you are told.” I have many duties to perform. Training her in obedience is one of them. “Your clothing lies in the baskets before us.” While she slept, I went through the baskets brought by servants and made sure everything was to my liking.

  She stands, looking at me shyly as she walks to where her clothing lies, folded in baskets. “How did they know what to prepare for me?” she asks.

  I shrug. That does not matter to me. She lifts a tunic, stark white, edged in fine intricate, from the basket.

  “Would this be suitable, my lord?” she asks.

  “Yes.” My patience
wanes. “Now come here.”

  She trots to me. It seems she has learned at least a bit from the session over my knee this morning.

  “Breakfast has been prepared for us in the dining hall, and we will gather there,” I say. “After we have eaten our fill, we will observe our land. I will assign you duties as you familiarize yourself with this land. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, my lord,” she says. Her brow furrows, her eyes troubled, but she does not speak her mind.

  I sigh. “Tell me what bothers you.”

  “Nothing, my lord,” she lies.

  I will train this woman in obedience if she needs to be taken across my knee every day for a month, but my other duties prevent further probing. I pull her to me then take her hands, raising them above her head, then slip the tunic over her naked skin, but before I allow it to fall to her thighs, I spin her around. I inspect her punished bottom, her skin reddened but otherwise unmarked. The spanking will fade as the day goes on. I have not harmed her. When my hand splays on her backside, she tenses beneath me. I smile to myself, and bend her over my lap.

  “Are you aroused, lovely?”

  She does not answer at first, squirming. I smack her naked skin, my voice lowering in rebuke. “I asked you a question, woman,” I repeat. “Are you aroused?”

  “Y-yes, my lord,” she answers in a strangled voice, her cheeks flushed. Is she embarrassed that being taken across my knee has awakened her sexually? Her response is telling, and I wonder what it is about her past that causes her to be conflicted like this. It is only natural that she react to my display of dominance. She has, after all, been wedded to me and bared. Is it not natural that her body respond?

  I like this. I want her eager for pleasure.