Pressing his lips to the lobe of my ear, he growls, “A bitch must be broken before she learns to heel."
Placing his hand across the back of my head, he crushes my face into the mattress before shoving off.
“Hold her.”
The lifting of his weight is quickly replaced by hands pressed upon my upper back. Accompanied by the sounds of a belt unbuckling and clothes rustling, Rainier sneers, “I bet you’ve never been fucked by a human cock before. Never demeaned yourself that way, have you?”
When I hear a ripping sound and a cool breeze brush my lower region, a feeling of dread slithers within me as I fight to remove the hands holding me down to no avail. Feeling his weight return along my back, I lock my ankles to prevent the inevitable, but his thighs easily spread my own.
“Don't worry, Your Highness. I’ll solve that issue for you,” he promises, right before I feel a ripping, burning pain as he forcefully invades my body.
Savagely tearing apart my lower half, my breath whooshes from my lungs and I suck in another, releasing a bloodcurdling scream as he ruts on me like a feral animal. Screaming and sobbing, I try to buck, scratch, kick and punch, but all I manage to do is squirm minutely and claw at the bedding.
My disgust and devastation at being violated, along with the feeling of filth, of Rainier’s defilement of my body and his perversion of such a sacred act, creates a fissure in my soul. I begin to weep.
Head bobbing, I stare unseeing at the wall violently wavering back and forth due to his manic thrusts, and I stop fighting. Tears drying, body limpening, I choose to see nothing, to hear nothing, to feel nothing. Instead, I float outside my body and imagine a world where my husband isn't dead, my children are safe, my home isn't overrun by enemies, and I can't feel a human usurper swelling inside me now, grunting his release. He softens inside me before I feel the slippery withdrawal of him, but all I do is stare, seeing nothing.
At the sound of him buckling his belt, I feel his seed slither down my thighs and feel the heat of his breath between my thighs as he says to the other man, “Look at that pretty cunt dripping with my cum.”
He laughs manically, his words and actions intended to demean, but they no longer have the ability to wound me. Even when I hear an earsplitting roar and his laughter abruptly cuts off, his weight slamming on top of me and crushing me into the bed, obscuring my vision.
With the sounds of shouts and the clashing of swords that quickly cease, I do nothing. I see nothing. I feel nothing. Not even when the weight is removed and a wide eyed Cascadonia guard fills my vision.
“Your Highness!” He turns his head to speak to another. “It's her! It's the Queen!”
Another roar, followed by a wet squelching sound, and the guard’s gaze snaps above my head. “Get him out of here!”
“Are you injured?” the guard asks, returning his gaze to me.
I say nothing.
At my silence, timid hands begin to roam my body, only for him to quickly jerk them back, horror lining his face as he stares at the blood slickening his fingers.
“She needs a healer!”
A dark-skinned arm suddenly snaps out, fisting the back of the guard's tunic and throwing him across the room. Those very same arms lift me off the bed, careful not to jostle my wounds, and cradle me to his chest.
With the swaying motion of the guard carrying me towards the door, my eyelids begin to descend and my body starts to shut down. But I quickly snap them open when I notice a lone male standing in the corner near the door.
At first, I assume him to be one of the guards, but then I notice his clothing. His human clothing. Battling consciousness, I force my eyes to remain open once I realize I recognize him. He's one of the humans who restrained Valor when he was killed, but… he's not a human at all.
With his sun kissed skin, pillowy lips, and blonde, wavy hair, he’s the most attractive male I’ve ever seen. His luminous, bluish silver eyes are stunning, yet his markings are strange and he lacks the two or four jewels that would signify his power as immortal or fae. He's not human, but he's not fae or immortal, either. He's something other. But what he is doesn't concern me. All that does is he’s just as responsible as Rainier for my husband's death.
I attempt to signal the guards to the traitor in our midst; call out, whisper, even issue a small grunt, but with the remainder of my blood seeping from my wounds, my lips refuse to shape the words. Powerless and unmoving, I can only watch as the male weeps silently. Struggling to contain the consciousness trickling between my fingers, only a sliver of my vision remains as the guard carrying me nears him. That's when an impossible realization dawns on me. The guards aren't even aware of this creature. It's as if he’s concealed himself from everyone’s sight but my own, and he's as much of a specter as my dear Valor.
Tearing his gaze from mine, the weeping male ambles toward the door. And it’s as he vanishes over the threshold, but before my eyes slide shut, I’m finally able to sense the spark of new life bloom within my womb.
Chapter 1Darius
With a swipe of my sword, I slice through the Soulless’ neck, severing bone and sinew along with the creature's connection to its master. Tugging a cloth from my pocket, I wipe away the Soulless’ black blood from my blade, watching its cloak of ruby flecked, black shadows disperse on the wind, returning to its patron’s goddess as the undead’s body returns to its natural state.
Dead. Unanimated. Decomposing. No more glowing red eyes, no more death magic, and no more insatiable need for blood. Just as it should be. Just as it should have always been.
Hearing a screech, I turn toward the sound and find a Soulless snapping at Kace’s neck. The Nature fae’s blue eyes are widened comically as he extends his arm to keep the mindless creature at bay. When his emerald jewels illuminate, I watch and wait, expecting him to use his Nature magic to defend himself. But I'm proven wrong when the battle hardened fae begins slapping at the demon’s face, screeching like a female. Sighing, I press my boot to the mud-slicked ground, ready to assist, when a sword suddenly spears through its skull.
Griffin, a large male with cropped brown hair and the markings of an Air immortal with a sapphire and starlight jewel near the outer corner of each eye, appears calm and collected as he tugs the sword free from the creature's skull. Even when the Soulless’ body slides down Kace’s, leaving a trail of putrid body fluids in its wake.
“Oh, gods!” Kace snaps forward on a gag, retching over the crumbled dead.
“You probably shouldn't be hanging your head directly over its rotting corpse,” Griffin says, his lumbering footsteps rising in volume until he reaches my side. “I imagine the scent of decay is much more potent when you’re all but rubbing your nose in it.” He shrugs, seeming indifferent. “Just a suggestion.”
Intelligent enough to accept his advice, Kace kicks the Soulless away, then resumes his heaving.
Giving Kace a moment to himself, I look over all the lifeless creatures scattered across the forest floor. Several appear just as they always do. Emaciated, hairless, with leathery, sunken skin. Of course, one could never forget their clawed hands and dagger-like fangs, made even deadlier when their jaw widens enough to swallow an adult male's head whole. Better to suck your blood and your soul along with it, I suppose. Most of them obviously passed some time ago, but for some, the lack of decomposition is concerning. They still have patches of hair and their skin oozes as if transitioning to their companions' leathery state. They’re fresh, which means they haven't been dead long. It's rare to find freshly deceased Soulless, and there's four in this party alone.
Where did you come from?
They must have come from somewhere, and these Soulless have been dead no more than a month. Eyeing the dead's clothing, I notice their leather vest and trousers. A material not made available to Brecca – home to the Soulless’ masters – but guaranteed to be in any male Cascadonian's wardrobe. Already knowing there aren’t any missing persons or deaths unaccounted for in Cascadonia, I wonder if there have been any missives from our neighboring kingdoms reporting differently. I would hope they would relay this or any other information regarding Soulless activity within their borders, but kings and queens never carry much thought for anyone but themselves. No matter how noble they present themselves.
No answers forthcoming, I search through the trees for the several hundred spans-tall stone wall surrounding the capital city of Cascadonia, thinking of all the inhabitants residing within. All the souls I'm oathbound to protect.
Too close.
The Gods Cursed are getting bolder. Increasing in frequency and in larger numbers, the masters to the Soulless are commanding them practically to our gates. This month alone we've had three attacks, not including this one. And with the newly dead adding to their ranks, it's vital we learn where these new creatures originally came from.
Unsettled, I return my gaze to Kace, who’s wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
