Page 21 of Twisted Bonds

I hold my tongue. If I let my anger get the best of me, I will lose this interaction. Leaning back in my chair, I assume a passive stare. My heart pounds in my chest, but I refuse to let more of my emotions show.

“Fascinating.” He brings his gaze back to the wine bottle in front of him. “Are you so quick to forget the other loves you so recently feared dead? Or was that simply hope so that you could move on without guilt?”

Something inside me snaps. Anger and outrage at his insinuation. All I see is red. Suddenly my wine glass is in my hand and I’m splashing the contents across Tairyn’s perfect face.

He’s on his feet with a roar, knocking the table between us to the side. Something in me is driving me forward. Pushing me to stretch the limits between us. Without hesitation, I step up to him, driving both palms against his granite chest.

He doesn’t budge or even shift beneath all my force. I shove him again, but purple Chroma wraps around my wrists, stopping me.

“You will not touch me,” he says through his teeth, looming over me. His hot breath encircles me, caressing the sensitive skin of my neck as his eyes flash with violence.

I struggle against the magical bonds holding me in place. I lift my knee to meet his groin, but before I make contact, my body is moving. His magic flips me over and pins my hands against the seat of my chair.

Before I can think or react, purple strips of Chroma are falling across my ass. I gasp as a sharp pain blossoms across my backside. Tairyn, now standing behind me, lets the ends of his magic whip snap against me again and again. Each lash sends me lurching forward in my chair. The shock overtakes me before the humiliation sets in. My face burns with it.

“How DARE you!” I shout, twisting my wrists in their binds to no avail. “You can’t just--”

“I can,” he cuts me off coldly. He sighs, almost regretfully, before adding, “And I did.”

I close my eyes tight and grit my teeth as another lash falls across my ass. His Chroma behaves like strands of flaming silk, the way it sizzles against my skin and leaves a tingle in its wake. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of any more outbursts. So, I take the next few lashes in silence. They sting, but they’re nothing compared to what I watched Yurghen do to Sunder. Not even close. Each stroke is a physical reminder of the imbalance of power between us. A scolding.

When he’s done, the silence stretches between us, only broken by the sound of his labored breathing.

“Are you going to behave now?” Tairyn asks from behind me, all calm and collected.

“No,” I spit back at him, my voice choked but defiant. This earns me another stinging lash, a wince escaping me as the magic bites into my flesh.

“Wrong answer,” Tairyn’s voice is like ice, sharp and cold.

“You’re a monster,” I hiss, my ass stinging with residual heat from his punishment.

His laugh is awful, devoid of humor as he releases his hold on me. I stumble back, keeping my back straight and shoulders squared, trying to hide my grimace.

“Perhaps,” he concedes with a shrug. “But as entertaining as I find your company, it's time for you to return to your cell.”

He bites the last word out, like staying there is also part of my punishment. My cheeks flush with heat as the two guards escort me back down the endless hallways and stairs of his fortress. My mind races, replaying each word we exchanged. I grit my teeth as we descend the final stairwell into the dungeon.

I didn’t want rooms, anyway.

nine

Tairyn

The door slams shut, and I collapse into the chair, barely avoiding tipping it over with my weight. My body trembles as I take sharp, ragged breaths and press my forehead into my sweaty palms. The fire crackles loudly, but its warmth does nothing to ease the knots of anxiety twisting in my chest. I close my eyes and try to let the flames consume my worries, but they only seem to grow stronger, engulfing me in a suffocating heat.

What did I just do? That was… uncharacteristic.

At first, it was the White Chroma that seemed to swirl and dance around us when we first met. And now, I can’t seem to control my own actions. I knew if she touched me again…

A low groan escapes me as I roll my shoulders, trying to release the tension that has built up inside me. I can’t believe I lost control of myself. I can’t risk her touching me again, not if it means a vision will come unbidden. ***?

The only way to prevent a recurrence is if I abandon her in that dungeon until it’s time to transfer her. It doesn’t matter that I’m intrigued by her and have unanswered inquiries about humanity. Once this mess is resolved, I’ll search for another human to question about the peculiar items in my collection. Someone less… alluring.

I have the Vessel, I remind myself. My task is nearly complete.

As I organize my thoughts, a new plan of action arises in my mind. My original intention was to unravel her complexities, but now I see the potential risks of delving too deeply with her. The weight of these realizations hangs thick in the air's stillness, almost dragging me down into an abyss.

Popping to my feet, I clasp my hands behind my back and pace the length of the handmade Moroccan Berber rug. The pattern always draws my eye to the slight imperfections only humans can tolerate in their handiwork. Fascinating, really, that such a luxury item would be imperfect. Proof that it was made by hands rather than machines, as if technology is not the amazing feat of their culture.

---