Smack.Rane’s gasp pulled my attention from the stalls. Heart in my throat, I crawled forward, careful not to set the bales swaying.
As I peeked over the edge of the stack, I forgot how to breathe.
Rane knelt completely nude on the stable’s stone floor. An intricate pattern of shadow ropes crisscrossed his body like a web. Thick bands marched down his chest, following the deep cuts of his muscles. Taut rope bound his arms behind his back, his forearms pressed together and each hand cupping the opposite elbow. More rope wrapped around his thighs and shins, forcing him to rest his buttocks on his heels. With the way his legs were bound, it was impossible for him to stand. Ropes running from his arms to his thighs also meant he couldn’t close his legs. They were spread so wide they had to hurt. But if the pain bothered him, he didn’t show it. His erect cock strained from his groin, a thick bead of moisture swelling from the slit at the tip. He was totally bare between his legs, his shaft and heavy sack totally smooth.
Andrin stepped from the shadows, and I lay flat against the bales, my heart knocking against my ribs. Hay poked at my stomach and chest, but I ignored it as I watched Andrin slowly circle Rane. Andrin was fully clothed, but he bore little resemblance to the elegant king who sat on the dais during feasts. Now, he looked more beast than man. His red hair fell in a tangle to his waist. He’d rolled up his sleeves, and the sigils around his wrists and neck were as black as his eyes. Possession and something dark and unsettling filled his gaze as he stared down at Rane.
I didn’t know where to look. So I looked everywhere, a breathless sort of heat flooding me as I drank in the shocking scene.
“You love me,” Andrin murmured, the strange, unsettling overlap in his voice making me dig my fingers into the bale beneath me. His eyes glittered, no trace of white amid the black as he continued circling Rane.
Rane’s chest expanded, the ropes digging into his skin. “Yes, sire,” he said on an exhale.
Andrin stopped in front of Rane, who shivered. Sweat sheened his bare shoulders, which rose and fell rapidly as he stared straight ahead. His black hair streamed down his back, the ends brushing his rounded buttocks. He darted a wary look at Andrin before refocusing on some distant spot in front of him. His straining cock was a sharp contrast to the apprehension on his face.
“How much?” Andrin asked, lifting a hand. Shadows flowed from his hand, slowly forming into a long, thin crop like the one on the table in the Great Hall.
Rane’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. He drew a deep breath. “I?—”
Andrin slashed the crop down, striking Rane’s chest. Rane cried out, his spine curling and his head dropping forward. His fingers twitched around his elbows, and his buttocks clenched. He recovered quickly, his cheeks flushed as he straightened his spine. A red stripe crossed his chest, the wound blazing a fiery path over one puckered nipple. As I stared at the mark, I saw another I’d missed before. It was already healing, its puffy edges a lighter pink.
“I’m afraid I don’t believe you, elf,” Andrin said, his tone taunting as he moved behind Rane. “How can you love one who would abandon you if given the chance?”
“That’s a lie,” Rane gasped, turning his head like he meant to follow Andrin.
The crop whistled, striking him across the lower back. Rane bowed his spine, but he appeared to swallow his cry as he clenched his jaw. His erection swelled between his legs, the thick, rounded head of his cock shiny with moisture.
“Who lies?” Andrin demanded. “You or your king? Both, I think.” He slashed the crop down, striking the sole of Rane’s foot.
Fear gripped me as Rane’s scream echoed through the stable. Andrin spoke of himself as someone else—as if he wasn’t in control of his actions…or even his mind.
Because he wasn’t. Something had taken hold of him. I’d glimpsed it before, when he and Rane returned from the Edelfen. But this was so much worse.
“No,” Rane panted. “Just you.”
Snarling, Andrin waved his hand. The shadow ropes marching down Rane’s back bled upward, defying gravity. My throat went dry as they shot to the ceiling, yanking Rane off the ground and pitching him sharply forward. The ropes around his thighs did the same, attaching to the thick beams that supported the stable’s roof. Still bound, Rane dangled with his chest parallel to the ground and his erection swinging between his thighs. His hair spilled over one shoulder as he rotated slowly in the air.
Andrin smirked, but his eyes were cold as he stepped between Rane’s bound, spread legs and pressed the tip of the crop against Rane’s testicles.
“Do you want to say that again?”
I put my hand over my mouth. Andrincouldn’tstrike there. He couldn’t. Part of me wanted to bury my head in my arms so I didn’t have to watch. But another part was beset by a dark, perverse need to devour every second.
“You’re a liar,” Rane growled. “But you’re worse than that. You’re nothing.”
The crop flew, connecting with Rane’s sack and the vulnerable skin behind it. He convulsed in the ropes, his wail rising to the beams. A string of clear fluid descended from the tip of his cock.
“Slut,” Andrin hissed, tapping the crop against Rane’s engorged shaft. “You’re nothing but a bedwarmer.”
Rane gasped, his eyelids fluttering as he swayed in the ropes. “Yes. I gladly accept that title. I love you, Andrin. Come back to me. Come back to our bed.”
Andrin’s nostrils flared. “You don’t belong here. They’ll never accept you.”
“I don’t care,” Rane said. “I love you.”
“Then you’re a fool!” Andrin screamed. He stepped back and swung the crop, landing a blow between Rane’s parted buttocks. This time, he didn’t stop. Face twisted in fury, he delivered one punishing blow after another.
The sounds of Rane’s torment fell into a rhythm. The crop whistled, and Rane cried out, jerking and swaying in the ropes. Andrin’s breath came in grunting bursts. His boots shuffled on the hay-strewn ground. Over and over the sounds echoed, until every swish of the crop seemed to sting my skin.