Page 26 of Crowning of the Sword

The delicate fabric came apart easily in his hands, baring the length of her back and the top of her buttocks. Her skin showed the tracing of light shadowed marks across it, the scales of her heritage. Lissa raised her head and gazed up at Cole. Her eyes were liquid with pleading, and even in her awkward position, she still gave an air of grace and beauty.

“Your Highness, any injuries to me could jeopardise my standing in the tournament,” she began.

“It had better not,” Cole snapped. He crooked a finger to another guard, who immediately came forward, although with his head averted, he couldn’t possibly have seen Cole’s gesture. The guard’s gloved hand went behind his back, drawing forth a long leather whip tipped with gold tassels. He coiled the end around his fist and let the length hang, the braided leather swinging slowly, back and forth.

“You can’t choose this… this human, over me,” Lissa cried, her control slipping for the first time.

“It’s none of your business whom I choose,” said Cole, and as if to make his point, put a gentle hand to Ember’s face and kissed her full on the mouth, a deep, passionate kiss that made her melt into him, arching her hips against his hand. When he pulled away, his eyes glittered, his mouth curved into a smile. He didn’t take his eyes off Ember as he said slowly, “Perhaps, after the tournament, when I’m the Sword, I’ll make her fae, and then she can stay forever.”

Ember gazed back at him, her eyes wide. Become fae? All thoughts of home flew out of her head. All she saw was Cole, the dimples in his cheeks, his eyes burning into hers. She kissed him again, harder, her tongue deep in his mouth, as though they were the only two in the hall. He slipped a hand under her dress, and she parted her legs, wanting to give him easier access to her slick heat. She’d forgotten about Lissa, forgotten about everything but the wild desire building within her under his teasing fingers.

There was a whistle of air, a loud crack, and then Lissa cried out in pain.

Ember jerked away from Cole as though torn from a slumberous dream. A bloodied welt showed stark against Lissa’s skin as the guard raised the whip again.

“No,” Ember cried, and half rose from Cole’s lap in protest, but Cole dragged her back again, his grip unrelenting.

He whispered in her ear, and despite the horror she felt at seeing Lissa beaten, the warmth of his breath sent pleasurable shivers down her back as he murmured. “No. You watch.”

He licked her earlobe and kissed her neck, and her head fell back against his shoulder. She tried to close her eyes, tried to turn away from Lissa, writhing and crying out with every harsh crack of the lash, but she couldn’t. She could hardly even think straight anymore. Cole’s hands were all over her now. He pushed the lace of her underwear to one side and dipped his fingers into her wetness before sliding them up to caress the hot bud of her clitoris, gently at first and as she moaned, with a steady deliberate rhythm. Two fingers slid into her, just a little, making her buck her hips, wanting him deeper. The length of his cock was hard against her, and images flew through her fevered mind, of her settling before him and running her lips and tongue over him, here in front of everyone. Her hands slipped down to caress him, and he growled approvingly. He kissed her again, and again the whip came down.

He’s getting off on this, she thought, with the dim rational part of her brain that was growing more muddled with every caress of Cole’s hands, every kiss he took from her. And then, like a slap in the face, she realised, and so am I.

The thought of being aroused by this, by this torture, was horrifying, instantly sobering, and with a momentous effort, she pushed away from Cole, shaking her head. “I don’t want this.”

Cole’s eyes glittered and he let her up, doing nothing to stop her as she stumbled down off the dais, and fled the hall, but she heard his words as if they were being whispered in her ear.

“Yes. You do.”

Chapter 23

She ran through the halls as if she were being chased, the sound of the whip and Lissa’s cries echoing in her mind. The heat that had flooded her body when she was with Cole had vanished and, in its place, grew a gnawing, cold emptiness. She disgusted herself, revolted with the feelings he had engendered within her so easily, even as someone else was being hurt in front of her.

Her fingers shot up to the collar around her neck, and she plucked at it fruitlessly, eventually slowing to a walk so that she could release the catch. She held it in her hand for a moment. It was all leather now, with no hint of the gold and diamond necklace it had once been. She chucked it into a pot of roses standing in a little alcove. She wouldn’t wear that thing ever again.

With its removal, her mind felt clearer, her purpose solidified. She had to get out of there. She didn’t want Cole to make her fae. Perhaps if she just stayed out of sight, she’d be out of mind. The tournament was drawing close. That might be enough to keep him occupied.

She broke into a trot again, down one corridor and then another, not sure where she was or where she should go. Eventually, she stopped, heart pounding, and leaned against the wall. Who was she kidding? There was nowhere she could go where he wouldn’t find her. This was his world, and he was all powerful in it. She had no allies and no way out. All she could do was play along, keep on his good side. Not that he’d ever tried to hurt her. He’d always been kind and considerate. But then, Lissa was his lover and teammate. She was worth more to him than Ember was, and yet he’d just had her whipped, as though she meant nothing. And if he could behave that way to Lissa, what did that mean for her?

She whispered for a guide and when the little light came, she followed it through the warren of halls back to her room. Little Rufus greeted her with endearing yelps and much wagging, and she hugged him close, hoping the warmth of his body might chase away the chill that seemed to have settled into her bones. Seeing how upset she was, Lily begged to help, and as an act of rebellion, Ember asked her for a pair of jeans and tee shirt to wear, instead of “all this frilly stuff.” Lily frowned at that but went into the bathroom to turn on the taps, while Ember stripped, keen to do nothing more than wash the disturbing day off her and climb between crisp cool sheets.

The water was refreshing, and she washed her hair and brushed her teeth before dousing herself with her favourite scent. Lily had left a robe for her, and she tied it around her, wrapped a towel around her head, and walked into her room, halting abruptly when she saw Cole standing by the window. Lily and the puppy were nowhere in sight. A new wooden chest studded with silver stood in the corner, carved with elegant images of people and fae intertwined in an eternal embrace.

“Do you like your room?” he said conversationally, looking out at the view. “I thought you might like a view of the gardens.”

“It’s lovely,” she said. She didn’t know what to do, but thought she might try to act naturally, and so she tugged the towel from her head and moved to the dressing table for her brush. She dragged it through her hair mechanically, unable to look at him. He had appeared casual enough, but underneath, Ember sensed an energy that he was keeping in check, something dangerous.

“It’s too light,” he said, and the room darkened, candles springing into flame. The scent of spicy musk seeped into the room, cloying and seductive. His voice took on a lilting tone. “The banishment of light brings forth greater mysteries, don’t you think? Secrets and shadows, a cloak of enchantment …”

“How is Lissa?” she asked when his voice trailed off. She was trying for lightness, but her voice wobbled, and she bit her lip.

“She’s learned her lesson.”

He crossed the room in a few strides, and she backed up. He stopped short, as if aware he had scared her, and looked at her intently, his expression serious. “She could have killed you. I would have thought you’d be happy that I punished her.”

“You didn’t have to hurt her.”

“No,” he agreed, and there came something feral in his eyes. “But sometimes, we can only learn lessons through physical chastisement. My people will do what they want, and so I will do as I must.” He held up his hands, palms facing in an act of supplication. “But for your sake, my darling, I shall not do it again.”

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