Reign to Ravage

by Zoey Ellis

  Instincts taking over, she pushed him back into the chair and climbed onto his lap, straddling him. She wrapped her arms around him tightly as she lay her head on his chest. "Tell me."

  He hesitated. "It is not appropriate to talk about with you."

  "I thought you said we were true mates?" she said, her voice a whisper.

  In his hesitation to answer, she could almost feel him struggling with the idea of opening up to her.

  "Mates talk to each other," she said. "They trust each other."

  "You do not trust me," he pointed out.

  She lifted her head to look in his eyes. "That doesn't mean I don't want to."

  Malloron ran his hands down her legs. "So telling you something about myself will make you trust me?"

  "It will help me to understand you."

  Malloron exhaled and pulled her back against him. "I don’t want you to understand that part of me."

  "That is the part that gives me pause," Amara said, as honestly as she could. "I cannot understand why someone would treat others so badly."

  "Maybe that is just the way I am," Malloron said, his voice hard.

  Something in his tone, made Amara look at him again. This time, she connected to him, and his cloud opened up inside her. It was swirling with so many different emotions, she could not pinpoint any one, but it was clear something had happened in the past.

  "If you don't want to tell me," she said, "show me."

  After a long hesitation, Malloron pulled her back to his chest and settled her head against him. Simultaneously, a memory shuddered into her mind…

  *

  "Father! Why are you doing this?" The child’s anguished cry cut through the air, sharp and high. He tried to pull away from the huge guards that gripped him and dragged him along the corridor, but there was no escape. He wasn't as big as them yet and had no way of fighting them.

  Father drifted along in front of him, not even bothering to look back. His chair, which had been imbued with spells and charms, floated a few inches off the floor. It protected him from most kinds of attack and would not even allow any magic that could be hostile near him so it was impossible to get his attention that way. The only thing the child could do was to keep calling him.

  They carried on through the castle until they reached a large courtyard. It was sheltered but had numerous hollows called battle pits in the ground spread over the area—it was where he had watched Talent-crafters fighting in the royal championships. He had hoped to compete one day.

  Father’s chair turned suddenly and he nodded at the guards.

  They threw the child into the nearest pit, his breath leaving his chest swiftly as he hit the ground on his side. He groaned as the pain of the impact blasted through him.

  "I told you that you are to be the next heir," his father’s grave voice echoed around him. "And you refuse to take it seriously."

  The boy glanced up and saw him looking over the edge of the pit. "I am taking it seriously," he cried as he got to his feet. "I have been studying every day for hours and hours."

  "It is not just the books," his father thundered. "It is a way of life, a set of behaviors, and a certain understanding you need to have in order to succeed the way that I did not."

  "I am not you, Father!" the boy shouted back. "I will learn from your mistakes. You have ensured I will be successful."

  "Then why were you spying on the female servants in the quarters with your brothers?" his father bellowed, his anger clear. "Why were you playing with your younger sisters? How many times do I have to tell you that you are different from them? They cannot help you when things get difficult. They may even turn on you because of everything that you have and everything that you are that they are not."

  The boy did not know what to say. He had always played with his sisters and gotten up to mischief with his brothers. Father had never said to stop doing those things just because he now had to study and learn to be the next King of Eiros. "I did not realize that you meant not to speak to them at all, Father," he said finally. "They will still be relevant to my rule, won't they?"

  "I cannot see how," Father shot back, his glare bright. "Unless you plan to allow them to affect you negatively."

  "They won't," the boy said.

  "How do you know?" Father said. "How do you know what kind of people they are going to turn out to be?"

  As the boy began to respond, his father interrupted, "Quiet!" He inched his chair closer to the edge of the pit. "I brought you here to give you a taste of what is going to come for you unless you focus your studies as I have instructed you to. It is not just about learning spells and charms and having control over the Talent, it is also about understanding the quality of life that you are going to have."

  The boy was barely able to keep up with each word his father said, but a sudden tingling in his legs caught his attention.

  "Another lesson you are learning today is never to eat from someone unless they are trusted," his father said, his voice hard. "You found your last meal waiting for you when you entered your quarters, and you ate it without questioning anything once. It was poisoned."

  The boy’s eyes widened as his knees began to weaken. All feeling in his legs fled, and he dropped to his knees. The tingling numbness spread in a rush over his body until it swept his scalp. He found himself crumpled on the floor in a heap, unable to move, even unable to speak. The panic that raged through him caused his heart to race, but he couldn't do anything about it. All he could do was breathe and blink, nothing else worked.

  "The way you are feeling now is exactly how you will feel when you get to my age. You will be unable to use your body, everything that comes so easily to you now will be gone. That is the future that you are looking at if you do not change your approach to your reign." Father’s voice was bitter. "You will remain here until I feel you have understood the gravity of what is to come if you do not take this seriously. Do you think I wish to be in this chair? Do you think it is something that you can think about later? It is not! Your priority and concern should be on your rule. Always."

  The boy let out a garbled noise. Even his mouth didn't work. He heard the guards clomping away and knew his father had gone with them. The boy tried everything to get up, but it was as though his brain was not connected to any of his limbs. His body would not respond, almost as though he was a corpse with an active brain.

  Hours passed. It was impossible to see the sky from the bottom of the pit he was in, but from the changing color of the gray walls that surrounded him, he knew it must be night by now. Was Father planning on keeping him out there until morning?

  At the sound of footsteps, his eyes snapped open. Someone was coming—more than one person.

  "He’s down there, look."

  "Father was right, why is he just lying there?"

  "Are you sure he’s alive? He looks dead."

  Relief filtered through the boy as he recognized the voices of his brothers and sisters. It sounded as though they were all there, based on the footsteps he could hear. He tried once again to call out, try to move, tried to ask them to help him. But he just lay there, lifeless.

  "Let’s see if this will get him up."

  A sharp clang resounded in his ears, and then another, and another. Then something sharp and hard hit his hip. "I got him!" Teremun said.

  "But your aim was shit," Elion remarked. "Let me try."

  This time whatever they were throwing hit him every time and the boy did his best to endure the sharp pain that exploded on his body where they landed. They all took turns, even his sisters, and the boy’s heart sank. Why were they doing this? It didn't make sense. Maybe they didn't realize who he was.

  "Maybe the next time he gets to spend all afternoon with Father, he can tell him all about his injuries."

  The boy closed his eyes as they laughed. They knew full well who he was and they were doing it anyway. His heart ached as he tried to understand why they were suddenly being so wretched to him.

  "Wa
it," Avala said. "Help me get down, I want to try something."

  The boy listened as they helped her down the side of the pit. When she got to him, she nudged him with his foot.

  "Are you sure he’s alive?" she called to the others. "He’s really still."

  "Yeah he’s alive," Daran called back. "He just can't see or hear. That’s what Father said anyway."

  "So he’ll never know that we were here," Elion said.

  "Good," Avala said. "If he’s going to rule one day, I don't need him making my life hell because of tonight. But if he doesn't know…"

  The boy felt her hands on his torso and suddenly she had dragged down his pants to his knees.

  "What are you doing?" Elion called.

  "Experimenting," she called back, as her hand found his cock.

  The boy squeezed his eyes tighter as she manipulated him, wishing he was somewhere else.

  "It’s growing!" she exclaimed. “It’s… Wow."

  "Come on, Ava," Daran called, the disgust in his voice clear. "Why are you doing that?"

  “Stop it, Ava,” Elion snapped.

  The boy heard more rustling, and then a sudden musky warmth covered his whole head. Their voices became louder and more frequent, almost as though they were arguing, but they were muffled. His breathing became shallow with the lack of air. He opened his eyes, but he couldn't tell what had happened. The weight on top of him shifted and jolted and then suddenly moved off him.

  He closed his eyes again quickly as his sister lowered her face to his. "You are lucky, little brother," she whispered. "If they weren't here with their ridiculous outrage, I would be riding your face and then that impressive cock of yours."

  She rose and the others helped her to get back up the side of the pit while they all spoke at once, clearly annoyed.

  "Why did you do that to your brother?" Elion bellowed.

  “Yeah, that was a bit horrible, Ava,” Relissa said, hesitantly.

  “You’re disgusting!” Teremun shot at her.

  Elion’s voice rose again above the others that were speaking. "Would you do that to any of us?"

  "No, because none of you are as pretty as him," Avala laughed, nonchalantly. "And anyway, when would I ever get to have my pussy on the face of a king?"

  His other sisters laughed, but his brothers were even further outraged. An argument ensued until the boy couldn't tell who was saying what anymore. Finally Avala said, exasperated, "It’s not as though I would ever say or do this to him normally, but he cannot hear us or see us. He’s Father’s favorite and we’re going to have to appease him for the rest of our lives, even though he is younger than most of us. He will be king and we will be nothing. Isn't there anything any of you want to do to him that you know that you will never be able to do?"

  After that, there was a moment of silence.

  More rustling reached the boy’s ears, and his siblings began to laugh and goad each other. A sudden splash of liquid landed on his face. It was acrid and warm, and could only be one thing.

  "You got him right in the face!"

  "My aim is better than yours, Elion." It was Aeson—the brother who was closest who his age that he had always confided in the most.

  "Let me try."

  A stream of liquid hit him on his shoulder, and then another and another. The girls laughed and encouraged them on.

  The humiliation and disappointment burned through the boy until he could no longer bear it. He closed his eyes tight, trying not to open his mouth to breathe while hot tears burned underneath his eyelids. How could these people be his brothers and sisters, the ones who had laughed with him, answered his questions, and had been so encouraging about him ruling? Everything Father had said was right, they were not the people he thought they were, and they would be a risk to his throne if they truly hated him as much as this.

  Eventually, the streams stopped.

  "Is that it?" Relissa teased.

  "Well you piss on him then," Teremun shot back. "My bladder is empty."

  "Father said he is going to be here until at least noon tomorrow," Avala said. "We can all spend the whole night drinking and come back."

  "Are you really going to piss on him too, Ava?" Sonila, the youngest girl asked.

  "If you all help me get back down there, I don't see why not. And you should join me. It’s a rare skill being able to find pleasure sitting on a man’s face."

  They laughed, although Elion’s voice was not among them.

  "We cannot do any of this when it is daylight," he said sternly.

  "You just want to protect him," Daran accused.

  "No," Elion shot back. "If we are seen, then it’s over for us. Do you think no one will tell him?"

  They were all quiet for a moment. "I suppose we could still spend the night drinking," Aeson suggested.

  “You’re too young to drink.”

  “You let me last time!”

  “Only ’cause you threatened to tell king boy over there about our little sibling gatherings.”

  Their voices began to fade as they walked away, leaving the boy wet and reeking, his cock exposed. As he lay there, the anger that blazed over him burned their voices and laughter into his mind. Father was right. His brothers and sisters were a risk he did not need. They didn't want to see him succeed, and they would eventually betray him worse than they had tonight. But they would learn the price of their actions. He was alone, and he would always be alone, from now on.

  *

  Amara did not realize that she was sobbing until Malloron pulled her away from his chest. He didn't say anything, just looked at her, a strange wonder twisting through the cloud as he thumbed her tears away. He leaned forward and kissed her until the tears stopped, the taste and feel of him calming her.

  "They were jealous of you," she said pulling away.

  "I don't care what they were," he said darkly.

  She bit her lip as she took in the murderous look in his eyes. "Do you think if they had a chance to explain—"

  "If it only happened once, I may have given them a chance in my foolishness, but luckily it didn't."

  Amara’s eyes widened. "Your father poisoned you again?"

  "Twice more before I truly learned my lesson, and before I learned never to trust them again."

  "And your sister… Avala. Did she…"

  "She has been the most used whore in the Lands. She is moved from whorehouse to whorehouse at my instruction."

  Amara’s eyes lowered. That was horrible. But so was what they did to him. "How old were you at that time?"

  "Eleven."

  Tears sprung into Amara’s eyes again. Is this what he meant when he said that people of the Western Lands were cruel? How could they all be like this? She leaned forward and lay on his chest. "Purr for me."

  As soon as the rumble began, the soothing winded through her, calming her emotions and settling her thoughts. No wonder he hated his siblings, no wonder he trusted no one. His father had clearly set it up so that they found him in that state, but what they did from then on was all their responsibility.

  “I don't remember seeing a courtyard like that in the castle,” she murmured.

  “It has been turned into the gardens.”

  His hand ran over her back, providing extra warmth and soothing. "So why do you still have Elion around?" she asked.

  "The last time it happened, he stopped them from burning marks into me. He’s also had the favor of the the nobility in Khayola since he was a boy, so he is useful. The moment he stops being so, he will join the rest."

  Amara’s mood descended into one of muted despair. Not only was Malloron’s family dysfunctional, but there was no way he would change the way he thought about people. His only view of them was that they served him some kind of purpose; if they were useful to him then it was better for them—even she had only interested him at first because she served a purpose.

  "What are you thinking about?" Malloron asked.

  Amara lifted herself from his vibrating ches
t and looked up at him. "You learned from that experience to view people as objects. I was just thinking that it is unfortunate."

  "No, I learned from that experience that I do not wish to be immobile, ever."

  "You fear it?"

  Malloron growled. "There is no reason to ever be vulnerable."

  Amara nodded glumly. He would always want to be strong, any Alpha would, but his fear of immobility drove his need to find a solution for the effects of the tenebris—he would do whatever it took. It was so clear to understand now. That fear was tied to the betrayal of his siblings and in the process of dealing with that experience he had dehumanized everyone. Perhaps that was the way he protected himself from being vulnerable.

  "The restrained are people you have made vulnerable," she said quietly. "You take them from their lives, from their families and you make them into something to be used by others who pay for it."

  "Some things cannot be helped, Amara," Malloron said sternly. "Do you know my sister, Avala, has almost lost her voice because of screaming so much in each whorehouse? The restrained are put through training so that they don't suffer that."

  "That is not good enough, Malloron," Amara said. "They did not ask for this life."

  "Nevertheless, they enjoy it."

  Amara exhaled in exasperation, wondering how she could make him understand.

  He used the tips of two fingers under her chin to turn her face to his. "I know there is much that you will not agree with in this Land," he said. "And I do not expect you to. But I expect you to at least know that you are mine. Even if you don't agree, even if you hate the idea of it, even if we spend all our days arguing about the restrained forever, you should inherently know that you belong to me."

  His gorgeous brown eyes bore into her face and she stared back, a tingling in her stomach at the implication that they had a future. "I don't hate the idea of it," she said, her voice a whisper as she finally admitted it to herself.