“Did you think I would be a Slave forever?” His green eyes darken. “This—" He points at his Commander's stripes. “—is my reward. I was conferred the rank of Commander by the Empress, for my...services to her. And you, you Zoey, you were to be mine as well.” His eyes blaze as they search mine. He looks me up and down, his nostrils flaring as his eyes linger on my heaving chests. He licks his lips when he sees my erect nipples pushing against the thin fabric of my tank top.
He stares down my bare thigh, down my legs and slowly up again.
“Zoey,” he says at last. “I've been looking for you. And I found you—here.”
At his words, I freeze. He has been sent to hunt me down.
When I don't reply, he continues in a tight voice, “Why did you run away? Why did you run from me? We were in the Palace together, a Slave and a Siren. We would be together. The Empress promised me that I could have you. You are mine, Zoey. You belong to me. Mine! Why did you leave me?”
I start to back away, shaking my head mutely.
Owen closes his eyes briefly. “Why did you leave? Why?” His eyes snap up, and I gasp at the scorching wrath and hatred churning in those emerald depths. “You left me, to come here? To be a whore in the Red Lantern?” he roars.
My back thuds against the wall. Owen charges at me, and before I can scramble away, his knuckles have smashed into the wall on either side of me, caging me in with his powerful arms. I turn my head to the side as he leans in, his lips against my ear.
“You let other men fuck you, didn't you?” he hisses. I can feel his stubble against my cheek. His hand grabs my neck suddenly, forcing me to face him. I look into his hard, hungry eyes, and see the murderous rage in them. “This,” he pants. “All of this...” His hand moves down my neck and with a forceful shove, he grabs my breasts in both his huge hands and squeezes. Hard. He thumbs my nipples angrily, pinching them and rolling them roughly between his fingers. He pushes his hand between my legs and pushes my tiny shorts aside, forcing a finger into me. “All this...is mine! Mine!” With his other hand he squeezes my neck tightly, as if to make his point. Your life is mine!
I close my eyes, feeling the heat gather at the back of my eyes. I refuse to let my tears fall.
“I know he took you,” Owen whispers into my face. “Jaxon Ryleth.”
I gasp. Jaxon!
“He took you,” he continues with a smile which doesn't reach his cold eyes. “So I took him.”
“You took him?” I try to twist out of his grasp, jolted into frenzied action by my rising fear and anger. “You took Jaxon? Where is he? What have you done to him?” I shriek.
“Oh, I haven't done anything to him. Yet. But I will.” He narrows his eyes as he catches my fist in his palm. “You're going to hit me—for him? Hurt me, for him?”
“Please, where is Jaxon?” I ask, not fighting him when he grips my wrists and slams them against the wall. “Is he...is he alive?” I whisper.
Owen's mouth hovers over mine for an instant, before he claims my mouth with a furious, strangled cry. I don't resist, and his tongue penetrates me with a vengeance. I feel his teeth on my lips, my jaw, my neck, as he plants devouring kisses over my face, neck and shoulders, biting me hard to mark me. I close my eyes, trying not to feel anything. But from under my quivering eyelid, a single tear seeps out from the corner of my eye.
Owen's teeth graze my ear, and his lips are trailing up to my cheekbone when he freezes suddenly. Swiping at my tear with a fingertip, he spits, “Is this for him? Are you crying for him? Is this tear...for him?”
I swallow a sob, and turn away.
Owen licks the moisture from his finger, and his eyelids flutter shut. “Your tears...are mine. Your body is mine. You are mine, Zoey. Say it.”
I bite my lip, and push my back harder against the wall.
“Say it!” Owen roars, slamming his fist into the wall beside my face. “Say it, or he dies!”
“Y-you're lying,” I stammer, hoping against hope. “You don't have him.”
Owen pushes himself away from me, his face contorting. In disgust, or pain, or shame?
Raising his arm, he pushes his sleeve back and jabs at his watch. The screen flickers to life. “Show me the prisoner in cell one,” he orders, staring straight into my eyes.
“Yes, Commander Vesparr,” a voice answers through the crackling static.
Owen flicks his eyes down and the corners of his lips turn up mirthlessly. “Come,” he tells me. “You wanted to know where Jaxon Ryleth is? I'll show you.”
He extends his arm to let me peer into the screen of his watch. Unable to breathe, I stare at the screen, my heart clenching painfully in my chest. My hands flies to my mouth. “No!”
Owen clicks off abruptly and the screen snaps to black. I grip his wrist, staring at the blank screen, willing the image to return. I saw Jaxon! I saw him, shackled to the wall, stripped to the waist, bleeding from countless wounds, his face bruised and his brown hair matted with dried blood. “No, no, no...please...”
Owen jerks his arm out of my grasp, his face twisting into an ugly smile. “You saw him. And that is the last you will see of him.”
I shake my head, furiously blinking back tears. “Let him go.”
We stand facing each other, our breathing harsh and ragged. His fingers are curling into fists at his side, as his icy green eyes bore into mine.
Very slowly, I close my eyes and raise my hand to the black stud in my left earlobe and press hard. This is it. This will be the one message that I record and send.
“Where is Jaxon Ryleth?” I ask in a clear, unwavering voice, hoping that this short recorded conversation will be clear and informative enough for the resistance. “Tell me, and I will go with you. I'll be...yours.”
Owen's throat moves, but he doesn't say a word. Instead, he keeps staring at me, as if waiting for me to retract my statement.
“Tell me, Owen. I...I will go with you.”
His eyes blaze as he answers, “Jaxon Ryleth is being held in the Palace—in the dungeon, awaiting execution.”
My lips tremble, but I force myself to ask, “When? When will Jaxon be...be...”
“Soon.”
“Let him go,” I say in a ragged whisper. “Please. Let him go. And take me.”
A muscle works in his jaw but he makes no movement. I will have to convince him to take me then. My hands grip the end of my tank top and push it up my breasts. Blinking away tears, I push my shorts down my hips and stare up at Owen. “Take me,” I whisper.
As I start to part my thighs, Owen grabs me suddenly, his fingers digging deep into my waist, squeezing me until I can't breathe.
My breasts are bared to him, my nipples stabbing into his uniform, but he doesn't touch them even though his eyes are burning with lust.
“I will take you, Zoey,” he grates into my ear. “But not here. Here is where whores are fucked and fucked over. Like that dead girl.”
He yanks my shorts up and drags my tank top down to cover my breasts. “We are done here, and you are coming with me. I will find the other girl guilty, the one in the room with you. And the case will be closed.”
“No! No, you...you can't! Kylee is innocent! She didn't do it! I did! I killed the bastard! Me! Not Kylee. I am the murderer. I am telling the truth, Owen. Take me away. Not Kylee, not...Kylee,” I implore.
His eyes widen a fraction. He takes a step towards me and holds my chin with his thumb and forefinger. A hint of a smile curves his lips.
“Zoey, you are confessing to a crime punishable by death,” he says in my ear. “As the investigating Commander, I have the right to detain you—at my pleasure.”
He runs his rough hands up and down my body possessively. Pushing away from me suddenly, he marches to the door and slides it wide open. “Get the Warden. Tell her that I am removing this girl from the Red Lantern. She is a person of interest in this case.”
“Yes, sir!” The soldier salutes and footsteps fade down the corridor.
In a f
ew moments, the Warden is standing in Room Number Five, signing over control of me to Commander Owen Vesparr. She merely glances at me before exiting the room.
Owen moves to stand between me and two soldiers who are supposed to escort me out of the Red Lantern. “I'll take her myself,” he snaps.
His rough calloused fingers close around my elbow in a crushing grip, and he pulls me close to his side. I walk out of the room with him like a zombie, keeping pace with his furious, long-legged strides.
The rest of the girls are nowhere to be seen. The Warden is the only one who follows us to the foyer, and gives Owen a curt salute before he bundles me out of the Red Lantern.
As Owen pulls me out of the arched entrance of the Red Lantern and through the tall, iron wrought gates, I twist round to see the Warden watching us from the steps. She meets my eyes only for an instant before turning away and disappearing behind the broad pillars.
“She's with me,” Owen barks at his soldiers and steers me towards his motorcraft. The soldiers all mount their own motorcrafts and rev their engines, waiting for Owen's command.
“Go ahead of me. Return to camp and join your unit for training.”
“Yes, sir!”
The soldiers' motorcrafts lift off and I see them dip down from the edge of the cliff before veering sharply away towards the setting sun. I get on the motorcraft behind Owen and grip the sides of my seat, but he reaches back and takes my hands. Wrapping my arms around his waist, he turns his head to the side and says, “Hold me tight.” I obey, and he gives a curt nod without meeting my eyes. He turns back to face forward, his shoulders tensed. He is gripping the handlebars so hard that his knuckles gleam bone white.
I glance back at the Red Lantern one last time.
I have sent my one message to the resistance, recording my conversation with Owen. Hopefully they will be able to get to Jaxon in time and get him out of the Palace.
The engine roars and my head whips back as Owen guns down the cliff.
I close my eyes against the wind, wondering what would happen if I unlace my fingers and just let go. Will I plunge headlong through the air to have my skull shattered on the rocks below? Or will Owen dive down after me and snatch me from the welcoming embrace of death? But if I try to escape him through death, he will no doubt take his revenge on Jaxon.
I cannot die. Not yet. Until I know that Jaxon is safe, I cannot end my life.
Will the resistance rescue him in time? How much longer will he be tortured? Will he be tortured to death before the resistance can break him out? Will I see him again?
I open my eyes and stare into the glaring sunset.
I know that the resistance will mount a rescue mission for Jaxon. He is a rebel leader, an ex-Commander. He is an important, integral part of their movement.
I don't think they will do the same for me. Too much risk, too little reward.
I know that many resistance fighters have sacrificed for the greater cause.
Jaxon is the greater cause here.
And I will have to be sacrificed.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Where are you taking me?” I ask Owen, shouting to be heard over the engine and the wind.
“To my camp. We'll be landing soon.”
I glance over my shoulder to see the sun sink below the horizon. I continue staring skyward as Owen starts to bring his motorcraft down. I can hear boots and male voices, and smell food cooking as we descend into the camp.
We dismount and Owen hands the motorcraft over to a young soldier. The soldier gapes at me, but quickly lowers his eyes when Owen scowls at him.
With his nails digging into my arm, Owen leads me to his tent, the largest one in the camp. Soldiers snap to attention as we pass, and Owen growls out a command to his captain that he is not to be disturbed tonight.
“Anyone who enters my tent will be shot.”
The captain, a stocky young man rounds his eyes and mouth but manages to recover quickly enough. “Yes, sir.”
Still keeping his hand on me, Owen ducks into his tent and shoves me towards his bed. The huge, high mattress is disheveled, strewn with crumpled blankets and his uniforms. He turns and zips up the flap of his tent with one swift movement.
Pivoting to face me, he begins to unbutton his shirt with one hand. I stumble away from the bed, but in two strides, he is upon me. Forcefully, he throws me onto the bed, and shrugs the shirt off his shoulders. He climbs onto the bed after me and pushes his messy uniforms out of the way. Scrabbling to the far corner, I shake my head wildly as he looms over me.
He points at me. “Strip.”
His eyes harden, as he unbuckles his belt.
I remove my tank top and shorts and lie down. I don't have a choice. I did tell Owen that I would be his if he told me where Jaxon was.
I close my eyes for a hundred painful heartbeats. When I open my eyes again, Owen has removed his boots and stripped himself. He is as huge as I remembered, as brutal and scarred.
Owen's eyes glint at he glares down my body savagely. Unable to wait any longer, he lunges forward and pins my arms over my head.
I let out a strangled sob. I know that no one will hear my pleas, my cries. Even if the soldiers outside hear my screams, they will not be stirred to come to my aid.
Breathing hard, Owen begins to lower his body to mine. Forcing my legs apart with his, he pushes his erect cock into my folds. My head thrashes from side to side as I try to fight him, my arms straining against his.
He laughs harshly, angrily.
“You're still not submitting to me? Does he have to die before you will give yourself to me, Zoey? I will kill him, right now! Do you need to see him die, Zoey? I will do it. I. Will. Kill. Him.”
I freeze, all the fight draining from me at his threat. My entire body goes limp against his, and my body deflates slowly as all the air leaves my lungs. Every heartbeat is now a terrible, throbbing ache against my chest.
Owen lifts his hands from my arms, but I remain where I am. I don't move, I don't struggle, I don't feel. He cups my face with one hand and forces me to look at him.
“I want you to look at me when I penetrate you. I want you to know, to feel, to remember who is inside you. If you even think of him while I am fucking you, I will kill him, immediately. All it takes is an order.” He taps the watch on his wrist.
I don't even blink.
Owen's breathing becomes heavier as he puts his hands under my knees and spreads my legs wide for him. When he sees the faded scar on the inside of my thigh, he smiles crookedly. “Here is where I bit you,” he muses, running his fingers reverently across the jagged mark. “I marked you that night. I knew that one day, you'd be mine.”
I blink away the memory of that night in the Empress's chambers. Owen had forced his erection by using my body, pushing my legs apart while I was hanging by my wrists and using his lips and tongue mercilessly on me. He had to get himself hard to satisfy the Empress and he used me, and marked me. I want to forget that night, forget it forever. But it seems Owen will never forget it.
His nails dig into my flesh as he lifts my legs and push them back against my chest. His mouth presses against my pussy, and he begins to suck and lick hungrily, making loud slobbering, slurping noises. “Mmm, you taste...so good, so fucking good, Zoey,” he murmurs, lapping greedily between my thighs. “I'm going to eat you up, eat you all up.”
He pierces me with his stiffened tongue, and I see him shudder in pleasure. Licking and laving me with increasing frenzy, his eyes suddenly fly open, and he blinks at me, his eyes crazed and unseeing. With an animal roar, he rears up and presses the tip of his large cock at my slit.
I begin to shake uncontrollably as I try to squirm away. No, no, this cannot be happening. He won't do it. He can't. He won't.
“Please, please don't, Owen,” I whimper.
He drags me to him and in one vicious stroke, penetrates me deeply. He starts to pound in a mad rage, hurting me, ignoring my pleas and cries. Wordless sounds erupt from his
throat as he thrusts violently, scraping against my raw, clenching walls. Tears sting my eyes at the pain he is causing me, at my own shame and helpless rage. My body is no longer my own. He is fucking me like an animal, intent of ravishing and ravaging my body. Bending down, he clamps his teeth around my nipple and swirls his tongue round the tip. I try to shove him away, but he bites down harder. A strangled sob escapes, and I punch and scratch his shoulders viciously, wanting to inflict the same amount of pain on him. He licks and sucks my nipple in response, his green eyes locked on my tear-streaked face.
“Harder,” he grits out. “Hit me harder, Zoey. Mark me. Make me yours.”
I cry out in anguish, and drop my hands from his body. This seems to infuriate him, and he bites down on my breast, drawing blood as he pounds ever more violently into me, as if he is trying to rip me bodily apart. His face twists as he pistons in and out of me, and I suddenly try to jerk away at a stark realization.
“Owen,” I say, my voice rising in panic. “Y-you...you're not using...a condom.”
His eyes flare. “No.”
“I...” God, no. “I...could get pregnant.”
At this, he stills. His breathing slows down rapidly into shallow, even breaths. “You don't know,” he mutters half to himself.
“What?”
“You can't get pregnant. And I can't get you pregnant,” he says at last in a dead voice.
I shake my head, my eyes blazing. You're lying.
“I'm not lying to you,” he says quietly, looking at me as if seeing me for the first time since he began his frenzied fucking of me. “The serum that Dr. Rolin injected us with—that made us both...” He swallows and exhales with a short, bitter laugh. “I can't be allowed to impregnate the Empress, can I? I'm just a dirty Slave. Our bodies are just used to pleasure the Emperor and the Empress. The serum gives me more stamina, more strength, but my seed is dead.”
I gape at him, the image of Dr. Rolin injecting us in the Empress's chambers flashing before my eyes. After satisfying herself endlessly on Owen, the Empress had summoned the doctor to her chambers and he had promptly arrived with a silver briefcase. After he slid the needle into my arm, I had lost consciousness and I had awoken utterly alone in my cell in the dungeon. The serum wasn't just to knock me out.
Release In The Dark (DARK erotic romance series) Page 9
