Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
And he was gone.
She stared after him for a long moment, then refocused to look solely at the door. Specifically, the handle. She shouldn’t open the door…but she could. If she wanted, she could go to Eldric. She could do it and be back before Tarian ever knew she’d gone…
12
Daisy
Magic held him in place. Black spikes speared into his sides and bands wrapped around his arms and torso. He stood in front of the king’s dais—in front of the whole court. The nobles snickered behind their hands or fans, laughed and guffawed while in their plush seats. They were eagerly watching the show.
“Let’s see this physique you have worked so hard on, shall we?” Princess Elamorna looked up at him with lustful, cruel eyes. The black ring of obsidian royalty ran like a river around her pupils.
He didn’t fight the bonds of magic. Didn’t give her the satisfaction of showing his embarrassment. His shame.
She sliced through his tunic. Yanked at the shoulders and cut down the back. After baring his torso, she moved on to his pants, creating long strips of torn fabric to give the court a peep show.
“Hmm, such fine stock. Yes, court?” She turned to her audience, who whooped and hollered, their usual demure mannerisms long lost to the twisted nature of the magic running through this place. She looked up at him again and whispered, “So many accolades with the highest court in the land, and just look at what you’ve become. Nothing but a whore.”
She ripped the fabric away, revealing all of him, and stepped aside so the court could see his nudity. She laughed as she stroked his body and rubbed up his legs.
“Who would like a sample?” she called to the court. “Or should I alone have my fill?”
Several females stood, laughing uproariously. They staggered as they came up, drunk or high or out of their minds with magic. They knelt before him one by one, using their hands and their mouths…but they had no effect. There was not an ounce of lust within Tarian. In fact, the sensations disgusted him. Shriveled what the gods gave him.
A few males tried as well, a contest to make him erect. But in all the years he’d been here—been subjected to this treatment—only one had held that mantle. Only one had coaxed lust from him. And they’d killed her.
Princess Elamorna laughed, waving them away. She thought she’d finally be able to master him. With whatever magic she’d concocted this time, she thought she’d finally be able to reduce him to her groveling little pet.
Her eyes shone with confidence as she prowled around him, her long nails, like claws, raking across his skin. Gashes opened up in their wake, but he didn’t feel the sting. Magic curled around him, a black haze soaking into his pores. Pleasure coursed deep, tingling his balls, willing him to give in to her ministrations. She took him in hand and knelt in front of him, and he looked down at her as he struggled against the magic holding him. As he struggled against the obsidian burned into his back, locking him in this hell. As he raged against the god who had damned him to this fate.
He would not give in to this. He would not allow the magic to take hold. He would not become twisted within this court—a stranger to this realm. He loved Faerie too much to forsake it.
So he resisted that magic. He resisted her.
Her face was a mask of fury when next she looked up at him. Saliva coated the corner of her mouth.
He forced a condescending smirk.
“If you weren’t so hideous, maybe you’d have some effect, hmm?” he said flippantly, as though none of this bothered him.
He barely felt the whips afterward, the blades parting his flesh. He barely noticed the pain as they made pulp of his body and dumped him into his chambers for his Fallen to attend. He’d won. He’d beaten her yet again.
He would beat her still.
Daisy sucked in a breath as she jerked awake in Tarian’s large bed. She clutched her chest where the pain had felt so fresh, grasped her cloth nightgown to ensure it was still draped around her body. The images from the moment swam before her eyes, haunting her. Breaking her heart and seeping down through her middle. They faded, having felt so real. Seemed real, like she’d been there. She felt like she’d been him.
The emotions of the moment took longer to dissipate.
Soft light filtered in through fake windows at the back wall, the magic mimicking the time of day, like the solarium. Apparently, lesser nobles didn’t get rooms with real windows and fresh air. If they didn’t have the magic to create it themselves, they felt their station.
Tarian lay on his side, his head propped up on his hand. The covers pooled at his waist, and a sad smile crossed his handsome face.