by Addison Cain
Sigil was not even sure what they were talking about anymore. “Order a cessation of the cleansing, Sovereign. I can find the Soshiia. I will help you.”
“No.”
“Jerla was taken from me.” And she would not let the ones responsible be killed in a mass murder—not until she got her taste of them and made them suffer. “Don’t take the city from me too.”
“They are only humans, beloved. Irdesi Prime could be repopulated and at optimal output within a year.”
It wasn’t that simple. Had he not told her so a million times? Sigil gritted her teeth. “I’ll give you anything you want.”
Sovereign was quick to answer, to let his eyes burn. “I want a child.”
Sigil glanced away, defeat lowering her brow. “I don’t know how to give you one.”
The smile that bloomed on his face was one of extreme anticipation. “Lay down.”
***
The demon that had crept over her in the ash and gore, the one who’d torn open her uniform and lapped at the blood crusted on her healing chest, was not the man who’d fucked Sigil over and over again since the moment he’d found her on Pax.
He did not let her scratch or bite, he didn’t try to console. He took.
Though not with pain; even when Sovereign spread her thighs he didn’t maul. It was a smooth entry, and an almost lazy motion drenching each thrust. If a dragon could stretch in the sun and roll with the utmost pleasure over his horde of coins, Sovereign was that creature.
That is not to say he let her off with any amnesty. His vocal mandates, the way they licked at her ear, were almost too much to bear. “Admit I am stronger.”
She was so cold, even lying under a mountain of heat. Shivering, she nodded, as if that might be enough to meet his demand.
“Tell me...”
Those eyes—in the dark they seemed bottomless, a great abyss ready to suck her into nothingness. “You are stronger.”
Sovereign thrust deep enough her breath stuttered, her lips parted, and her hips angled for more. He looked to where he joined their bodies, gave her a reprieve from the intensity of his gaze. Fucking her deliberately, watching his cock vanish over and over into his trembling female, he felt her writhe and shudder from his hands and mouth. But she was not doing as he commanded.
Hand knotting into her hair, Sovereign pulled her head back, exposing her neck. Her yelp was ignored, the tensing of her body disregarded. He lapped at her pulse points, at the soft place under her chin. Every weak spot was thoroughly attended to, Sigil stuck staring straight into the flat eyes of a corpse lying right behind her.
“Tell me you recognize what I am, that you’re mine in every way.”
His hips, that same ruthless easiness, the way his cock stretched and pulled at her, made pleasure weave itself through every nerve. His very presence was consuming, his smell—the way she had found herself more comfortable near him than when he was away. But that Sovereign wasn’t this Sovereign. That gentle Sovereign had never really existed. That Sovereign’s habitual physical seduction, the mindless pleasure he wielded to keep her full of his sperm, had been a ploy.
This Sovereign, this creature that bombarded with desire had no intention of heeding her should she say no. Had she not lain in the dirt when he’d told her to, he would have forced her down and bitten her into a frenzy of need.
The view changed, Sigil unsure when he’d released her hair or exactly how long she’d stared into his eyes. The feeling of his ass clenching under her palm, of the way his ribs expanded with each breath—she was touching him, learning his muscles, seeking the warmth of his flesh to drive off the chill.
And how he reveled in such attention. “That’s right, beloved. Smile at me.” The demon smiled back, parted his lips to pant. “You don’t need the city to sing to remember what you are. That feeling that overwhelms you during each night's Fracturing, that is your love—and it belongs to me.”
It was only a response to stimulus, that fluttering in her chest—a response to hunger, followed by fear, followed by the friction of his cock. The sensation was fleeting, coming and going, building and ebbing in time with Sovereign’s determined thrusts.
He filled her to the brim and ground his pelvis against her pussy. “Tell me that you’ll love me.”
Spread beneath him, cunt stuffed full, Sigil breathed almost too softly to be heard, “I’ll love you.”
His tongue was in her mouth, his body full upon her. It took him less than three full thrusts until Sovereign came, crying out her name in perfect pleasure.
The blasting heat that always accompanied his eruption satisfied, but it did not bring her to completion. Laying spread under him, needing friction to relieve her need, she squirmed.
Sovereign did not leave her unattended for long. His eyes commanded her to hold his gaze as he reached between them to run his thumb where she throbbed. He controlled her pleasure, could give it or deny it. He controlled her body in that pile of dirt and ashes.
He always had.
Arching up against the cock plugged deep inside her, starved for more of his touch, she wanted him to burn her away. “Bite me...”
“No.”
Unsure why his refusal was all it took for orgasm to crash upon her, Sigil keened, her cunt drawing his spilled seed deeper.
“It is your custom to retreat into apathy each time you make progress. Such behavior is cowardly and done out of fear.” Sovereign grinned, the demon blazing in triumph. “This time it will not be allowed. Not even as you mourn Jerla.”
She remained sedate as he fixed her clothing, covering the breasts he’d licked clean. When he had her dressed, he pulled her to stand and righted his own mussed uniform.
“Will you spare the city?”
Sovereign put a hand over her womb and hummed. His thumb traced back and forth. “I will give you fifteen cycles to find the Soshiia. If you fail to do so, all humans on this world will die.”
Chapter 11
Chin in her hand, Sigil cut Sovereign a wary glare. It was not a look of anger, or even suspicion, it was simply another measure of the man at her side.
She did not know this new male, even if she might still taste him in her mouth.
And for some reason, she couldn’t tear her eyes from him.
He looked like Sovereign, sat with all the assumed arrogance of an emperor, but for all those past months the captor who’d sat beside her had been an illusion. Under all that beauty and tender demeanor lay the kind of monster she understood.
He was a stranger, yet so familiar she could tap out the cadence of his heartbeats.
And, there he lounged, cutting a piece of fruit.
Smiling at her attention, Sovereign offered her the first wedge of mangosteen. “Beloved.”
He could pretend so casually, wear the mask with such precision, Sigil felt a spark of envy. Being him took no effort on his part. Functioning had always been hard for her. It was still hard, even cocooned in that damn palace and kept close to something powerful enough to destroy her.
She opened her mouth, and let Sovereign lay the fruit on her tongue.
The taste, the texture, was familiar. “I remember this from the Water Palace. It grew on the walls in Spring.”
The emperor nodded, his knife skipping through another bright-white segment.
“It was the first thing you fed me after I woke.” Sigil sat back in her chair, lazy. “Are you trying to draw some sly comparison?”
Sovereign popped a wedge of fruit into his mouth, grinning like a naughty child. “I like mangosteens.”
His nonchalance seemed inappropriate considering he’d just fucked her on pile of corpses.
He’d bared himself in all his horrid power, overcame and conquered so thoroughly Sigil had actually allowed him to carry her back to his palace cradled to his chest like a child. She’d even slept part of the way.
The death and ash no longer greyed their skin because he’d washed it from her.
It was his touch th
at had braided her wet hair, his hands that pulled a velvet robe over her nakedness, and his fingers he’d entwined with hers as he’d led her to the others.
Karhl and Tiburon sat at the polished onyx table, neither pleased with the show. One was covetous, one was mistrustful. Both were stoic. Since she’d joined them, Karhl had not once tried to touch her, a thing very unlike him. He, of all the males, seemed most discontented with her enlightenment.
Tiburon openly sneered, drumming his fingers on the table, thoroughly bored and deeply aggravated.
Sovereign was stone. Inside she observed him focusing all that vast mental brilliance into a fine point she found difficult to read. Every other emotion she’d known in him, it seemed he’d fed her, carefully conditioning what she could and could not sense.
The Emperor had armor against her only advantage... so what had been real and what had been fabricated?
Tired of being ignored, the white-haired Lord Commander spoke to his female. “How is it you intend to find the Soshiia, young one?”
Sigil blinked, looked from the smirking Emperor as if she’d forgotten others waited in the room. “I am going to sell bread.”
Tiburon cocked a brow, thoroughly unimpressed. “And?”
“I will sell this bread while the Imperial Consort makes an appearance. I think we can all expect at least one agent will be in the crowd. When I find him, I’ll track him.”
The instant grin and low chuckle... Tiburon lost his boredom. “Sometimes you impress me and I forget how horribly misguided you really are. And just who, brat, do you think Sovereign would allow to take your place on that balcony? Though I would enjoy it immensely, fraud of that level would be a scandal once recognized. It would upset the balance of power between factions. And you forget, Converts are fragile. There is no single human on this planet that could support the weight of those clothes, let alone take your place without thinking themselves more important than they are.”
Waving off such dramatics, Sigil sighed. “Does the Brotherhood not have wives? At least one must look like me? Who would even know once she’s painted white?”
“Not a single one of them could be trusted.” Karhl interjected, hands steepled, frown in place. “Secrets can be kept, Sigil, but some things are unwise. Nothing goes unnoticed at court. Ever.”
The argument was pointless. Swiping up a glass of water, Sigil smirked. “It’s a pity Arden isn’t here. The Herald would dress up in my clothes himself and parade around if I asked him to.”
“Well,” Tiburon leaned forward, immediately vexed to hear that name on Sigil’s lips, “if I were you, I’d be grateful that conniving bastard was sent away.”
A furious bark roared from Sovereign. “Tiburon!”
The Lord Commander threw his attention towards the infuriated emperor. “Oh yes, we all know that cancer is your favorite pet. It’s the only reason-”
The walls shook. “SILENCE!” Sovereign seethed, hands to the table, his mass leaning forward as if his jaw might unhinge and swallow Tiburon whole. “What is it that you think to accomplish in this?”
Sigil sighed, too tired to waste time. “I know of a human who will serve in my place on that balcony—one unknown to the court. One who does not crave power.”
Tiburon knew of whom she spoke, enlightenment breaking upon his face. “Your baker, Elba...”
“She will do as she’s told, and she will do it because she loves your empire.”
Retaking his seat, no longer languorous, Sovereign drew out the deeper meaning of Sigil’s claim. “And she loves you. Does that not also make this your empire?”
Sigil pulled her hair over her breast, toying with the braid. “Pax was mine. Que was mine.”
“And we are all yours.” Dark brows dipped, Sovereign’s smile vanished. He took the last bite of fruit. “Time and practice will change your sentiment.”
Sigil eyeballed his empty hands, her belly unsatisfied even after so much food. “I am still hungry.”
The final dish at the table was pushed before her, Sovereign’s eye glittering with something unsettling. He cocked a brow at her. “Elba will serve in your turn. And you,” he cupped his hand to her cheek, pulling her lower lip down so he might trace her teeth with his thumb. He pressed his finger down until a drop of his blood welled to drip in her mouth. At one hint of the taste, Sigil closed her eyes and sucked as he purred, “will sell her bread.”
That taste of blood was so sweet, Sigil bit down so she might have more. He let her gnaw, watching her, and counting her every last lick.
Seeing her practically drunk from the taste of him, Sovereign projected encouraging admiration. “You appear tired, beloved.”
Sigil’s pink tongue traced the corner of her mouth when a red drip thought to escape. There was nothing innocent in the way Sovereign gloated when she grew openly aroused, licking her lips as she leaned closer. She hesitated, her next exhale shaken, following breaths growing strange and unsteady. Throat tight, pressing fingers to her aching forehead, Sigil found her hands shook. She no longer looked at Sovereign, but at the table, the food, the place settings. From the corner of her eye she could see it, the very knife Sovereign had used to slice fruit.
Light played off the polished blade, winking at her.
It spoke to her.
She had not even felt the pulse of psionics that dragged it to rest in her fist, had not recognized that she stared at it for several seconds before her arm shot out in a great sweep.
She went for Sovereign’s throat.
A cry of pain passed her lips and Sigil found that same shaking hand lay imprisoned against the obsidian table.
Her wrist had been broken with the speed and force of Sovereign’s response. He had his fist in her hair, his lips at her ear, where he growled, “No.”
Sigil didn’t know why she’d done it.
The pressure on her scalp ceased, Sovereign’s fingers inching downward to outline the bones of her spine. Something beyond her was still fighting for the knife, the muscles of her arm twitching with the effort.
He found the spot and pinched.
It was immensely comforting.
Her eyes went half-lidded, her arm ceasing its jerking in Sovereign’s immovable restraint.
“Now, let go of the knife, Sigil.”
She did, opening her palm, the blade confiscated by Karhl.
Lowering her lashes, Sigil closed her eyes. She made herself breathe deeply just as Que had taught her. But, the sound of blood in her ears, the way she swallowed... she was not fully in control.
Tiburon, equally impressed and astounded, spoke of her as if she was not there. “She moves so fucking fast.”
Sovereign agreed. “Yes, she does. Her involuntary response—there are subtle cues.” The emperor kneaded the flesh of her neck, drawing her near him. “Isn’t that right, my love? Minute muscle spasms, fixation, an expression of regret.”
Even under his touch, Sigil’s cold sweat and intense discomfort would not abate. “I’m going to be sick...”
“Shhhhhh. Come here.” Dragged from her chair to the cradle of his lap, Sovereign brought her injured wrist to his lips. “I am not angry.”
Sigil was not listening, not with her cheek to his collarbone and his hands in her hair. All she heard was his heartbeat mingling nicely with the pulse of her pained wrist. It swept her up, carried her away.
Snorting, Tiburon chuckled. “The brat’s fallen asleep.”
Tracing his touch over his beloved’s face, Sovereign looked down at the exhausted female napping in his arms. “Tomorrow will not be a good day.”
Karhl had watched, he too had calculated. “Which is why I intend to stay with her tonight. Statistics prove she retains stronger mental balance after sleeping in my care.”
Tiburon shifted to glare at the formidable white-haired soldier at his side. “And leave all the work in my lap again so you can play house and fondle the hellion. No. Our duties are triple now that she convinced Sovereign to stop the cleansing. Th
e Soshiia will see this as a sign of weakness. They will muster for a second push, even as she picks their agents off.”
“Tiburon is correct.” Lifting his gaze, Sovereign addressed the waiting Brothers. “Sigil only bargained for the human lives within the capital’s borders. That is all. The cleansing of Irdesi Prime will continue. Every rock outside the city I expect purified before I see either of you in the flesh again.”
Tiburon loved the idea. “You’ll piss her off when she uncovers your cheap trick, Sovereign.”
The emperor did not agree. “I’m increasing the odds of our success. All potential Soshiia agents must be eradicated, the leadership driven into the capital. I will keep Sigil safe and distracted. You,” Sovereign growled as if failure would result in their slow death, “will find the pair of them and deal with the problem. They must be captured and removed before Sigil might be compromised.”
“Agreed.” Tiburon raised his glass.
Karhl was of like mind. “Agreed.”
“What of the child?” Tiburon looked pointedly at Sigil’s stomach. “Are you going to tell Sigil she’s pregnant before she might... I don’t know... expose herself to radiation or poison her body with lead?”
Putting his large palm over her flat belly, Sovereign growled. “The subject will be fully broached tomorrow.”
“It better be...”
Chapter 12
Flour, a light dusting, was on everything. Sigil traced a finger through it, writing the name Jerla over and over. “We must leave soon for the square.”
The weather was almost uncomfortably cold, small bits of ash still raining down outside. When it grew time for the fracturing, those who survived Sovereign’s initial purge would be eager to gather in the open air. Human Converts would want to huddle, wrapped up in their silly faith to cheer the woman who’d found them worthy to save from the cleansing.
Sovereign leaned against the wall, his pilgrims’ rags concealing his beauty and rank, but his charm, his persuasive abilities, were openly applied upon their hostess —as if Elba were the queen and he the peasant. “Your bread is delicious. I can see why the Imperial Consort favors it so highly.”
