Royal Obsession (Shadow Assassins 1)

by Cyndi Friberg

  * * * * *

  If they realize my true purpose, we’re both dead.

  It was the only warning Echo got as they emerged from the metaphysical plane. Lulled by the knowledge that E’Lanna was unharmed, she was shocked by Varrik’s aggression. He shoved her facedown on the bed, his hand hurtful on the back of her neck.

  “I allowed your escape attempt to go unpunished because of your vow to me. But your vows are meaningless. That leaves me no choice but to punish you.” Were the elders watching, or was he really angry? He pulled her arms behind her back and fastened the cuffs to each other. Then, using her bound wrists, he pulled her up off the bed. “I enjoy having my scent on your skin, but we both reek of sweat, and that’s a far less appealing smell.”

  He half-led, half-dragged her into the utility room and shoved her into the shower stall. The mist activated automatically, and Echo sputtered. “I can’t wash myself with my hands tied behind my back.”

  “That’s not a problem.” He joined her beneath the spray. “I’ll take care of the washing.” His hands slid over her body, cupping her breasts as he pressed against her back. “Did you have bathers in the world above, or was it just your guards who were allowed access to this luscious body?”

  She tried to reach down and grab his balls, but the cuffs kept her fingers out of reach. Refusing to dignify the question with a reply, she stared at the wall in front of her. He could scrub her until her skin turned raw. It made no difference to her. If this was a demonstration for the elders, he was playing his part a bit too well.

  He rolled her nipples. She stood perfectly still. He explored her bottom. She tuned him out. Even when his fingers slipped into her core, she managed to repress her moan. But he pressed his slick fingertip against her tightly puckered anus, and Echo jerked forward.

  “I think I’m clean enough.”

  His husky chuckle sent a wayward shiver down her spine. “Am I the only one who has ever touched you there? Your other lovers never—”

  “Why would they?” She tried to twist away from his questing fingers, but he caught her around the waist and angled her body so her side pressed against his chest.

  “There are more nerve endings there than in more conventional locations.”

  “You’re not putting your finger up my ass,” she snapped.

  He tightened his hold around her waist and pushed his middle finger into her tight back passage. “You were saying?”

  She tossed her head, whipping him with her damp hair.

  “Keep it up, and you’ll entertain more than my finger.”

  Her flare of anger dissolved like the mist evaporating on her overheated skin. She stilled, acutely aware of the foreign fullness in her bottom and the erection pressing against her hip. “Why are you doing this?” she whispered.

  “You’re mine to do with as I will.” He pushed deeper. “You will submit to anything I choose to do. The sooner you accept that, the safer you’ll be.”

  Safer. He was concerned about the elders. Were they really omniscient?

  “Relax.”

  She laughed. He shoved his finger up her ass, then told her to relax. With teasing slowness, he withdrew, then pushed in again. Her body opened for him, accepting the small penetration despite her misgivings. Each in-stroke made her squirm, but the out-stroke sent tingling heat curling up her spine.

  She sagged against him, her head resting against his shoulder. He pulled his hand away and reactivated the mist.

  Shocked by the abrupt change, she looked back at him. “Why did you stop?”

  “Because you were enjoying it.” She kicked at him and her foot slid. She gasped, unable to catch her balance with her hands trapped behind her back. He snatched her to him, his eyes boring into hers. “I think we’ll work on that temper as well. I’ve obviously been too lenient with you.”

  He stepped from the shower stall and reached for a towel. She stood tense and silent as he dried her entire body with unnecessary thoroughness. After drying himself, he tossed the towel in the recycle bin and led her back to the outer room.

  “I can’t quite decide what to do with you. The Customs suggest several suitable punishments for an insubordinate female. I can whip you, but we both know you’d revel in the sting. I can allow others to mount you, so you understand in a tangible way that your body is no longer your own. Or I can put you on display.”

  He pulled on a pair of black pants then unhooked her restraints without releasing the cuffs. Thankful for the reprieve, she rolled her shoulders and rubbed her aching wrists. Fear sat like a rock in the pit of her stomach. The situation was rapidly escalating beyond Varrik’s control. Would he really allow others to take her? She would much rather be whipped.

  “Put this on.” He handed her one of his tunics.

  She knew from experience that the garment would barely reach her knees and the upper curve of her breasts would be left bare. “Where are we going?”

  “To the discipline hall. Most masters use nudity as part of the punishment. I haven’t decided if you’ll be displayed.”

  Discipline hall? He had to be joking. Her heart fluttered, and her body betrayed her yet again. Heat unfurled through her core and her nipples pebbled. It was more than just fear making her heart pound. She could deal with anything as long as Varrik was the only one touching her. If he felt obligated to give her to others… “Can’t I be disciplined here?”

  “No.” His cold, flat tone assured her it was the only answer she would get.

  She put on the tunic, arranging the wide neckline as modestly as she could. While she fiddled with the material, he bent down and retrieved a wide belt from a compartment under his bed. She swallowed hard. Was he going to use that on her? The shiver resulting from the thought held only fear this time. Her fantasies often featured a ruthless male and sensations so pleasurable they hurt. Still, she had never imagined embracing pain to the point of pleasure.

  He moved in close and pulled the belt around her waist. She watched his eyes as he efficiently closed the wide metal buckle and fastening her cuffs to the stout loops on the front of the belt. This was more comfortable than having her arms bound behind her back, but it left her helpless. What if someone tried to take her away from Varrik? His authority couldn’t protect her from the elders.

  “Marton’s breath, you have a fabulous mouth.” He bent and kissed her, sending a calming wave through her body. Had he sensed her mounting anxiety or merely read the fear in her eyes? She didn’t know the full extent of his powers, but she appreciated the brief tenderness.

  Varrik pulled back and traced her bottom lip with his thumb. “I’m far too possessive to ever share you. You will have to be punished with pain.” He pulled a tunic on over his head and tugged on his boots. “Let’s go.” He scanned open the privacy panel and nodded toward the corridor beyond.

  “What exactly are you going to do?”

  Grabbing her elbow, he pulled her along behind him. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  Her steps lagged until he was nearly dragging her. “Varrik, please—”

  He spun around and pushed her up against the wall. “I didn’t give you leave to use my name. It was a momentary weakness. A weakness you repaid with betrayal. I will not be weak again. My name is Master. Say it!”

  She licked her lips, tears stinging her eyes. “Master.”

  With a careful shove, he sent her down the corridor ahead of him. The sharp crack of a whip and a shrill scream burst from the chamber at the end of the hallway. Echo shuddered. She was no expert on screams, but that had sounded decidedly female.

  Varrik rushed ahead, catching her elbow as he passed and pulling her along in his wake. Why did he suddenly seem so upset? Screams couldn’t be an unusual sound coming from a “discipline hall”.

  “You have been his lover for cycles,” a man said in a deep, commanding voice. “Admit what you know, and the pain will…”

  Anger exploded through Echo as they entered the cavernous room. The scars on Aila’
s back identified her before Echo saw her ashen face. She was restrained between two pillars, her feet barely touching the floor. Welts and gashes crisscrossed her back and buttocks, even the backs of her thighs. If this was standard punishment, Echo was in serious trouble.

  “What the fuck do you think she knows?” Varrik shouted.

  The man holding the whip turned to confront Varrik. Echo’s heart missed a beat when she saw his face. His swarthy complexion and blue-ringed eyes indicated Rodyte ancestry. Were all the leaders in the maze Rodyte?

  “Elder North might be fooled by your superficial show of obedience,” he told Varrik. “The rest of us are not.”

  This man was one of the elders, Varrik’s superior. Echo struggled to breathe past the lump lodged in her throat. Aila whimpered. Blood striped her skin, brilliant red even in the hazy light. Skirting the men, Echo moved toward the wounded woman.

  Varrik launched himself at the other man. The elder sent him flying backward with the wave of one hand. Varrik charged again, and the elder flung him away.

  Echo scanned Aila. Healing wasn’t her primary skill, but she would offer what help she could. Several of the lacerations needed to be closed, and her entire body was bruised. There didn’t seem to be any organ involvement, though, and the bleeding was minimal. The vicious bastard knew how to use a whip. Echo sent a soothing wave through Aila’s battered body, keeping one eye on the men.

  “If you weren’t a direct descendent of Vade, you’d be dead already,” the elder snarled as Varrik swung at him. “Keep it up, and I’ll lose my temper.”

  “She knows nothing because there’s nothing to know!” Varrik grabbed the whip and yanked it out of the elder’s hand. “I am true to the Customs. I’ve done nothing wrong.” He shoved past the elder and hurried to Echo’s side. “Can you help her?”

  Echo looked pointedly at the elder. “Don’t you have healers?”

  “I will allow no one to tend her but you.” The challenge in the elder’s tone was unmistakable. It was a test. He wanted her to demonstrate her power. He moved closer, and Varrik raised the whip. The elder ignored him.

  “I’m not a healer.”

  “Neither is your mother, but I know of several lives she’s saved.” He nodded toward Varrik. “He’s brought this world to the brink of war. I want to know why.”

  Aila’s whimpered, her head drooping to one side. “No more.”

  Damning the consequences, Echo looked at Varrik. “I need my hands free.” The cuffs released and he quickly unhooked the belt then stepped back out of her way. Turning to Aila, Echo passed her fingers over each wound without touching the broken skin. Heat erupted in her palm and flowed into each injury, stimulating the tissue, causing the flesh to mend.

  Echo pressed one hand against Aila’s forehead as she moved on to the next laceration. Emotional damage was just as detrimental as physical wounds. Purge this attack from her memory, Echo urged Varrik. She has endured enough already.

  A vibrant presence slipped into Aila’s mind alongside Echo. Varrik’s energy pulsed with a familiar rhythm. Echo welcomed him, finding courage in his strength. She concentrated on Aila’s numerous wounds, while he meticulously extracted the memory.

  Time passed. Echo had no idea if it were minutes or hours. She sensed Aila’s signal weakening and panic surged.

  It’s all right. I’ve commanded her to sleep. We’ll clean her up, and she’ll awaken with the vague memory of a minor illness.

  The casual statement stunned Echo. You can implant memories as well as extract them?

  Concentrate on Aila. It was more of a warning than a suggestion.