Page 57 of Of Spindles and Nightfall
“That is debasing, right? Shoving your cock in the mouth of the vampire princess? It’ll be unexpected, humiliating…”
He stared at her. “You want me to humiliate you in that specific way?”
“I said anything goes, but…” She swallowed. After seeing the possibilities of what that could mean… “I’d prefer a sexual or mental debasement over… over…”
“Losing a limb?”
She looked out at the arena where crimson poured from Pohan’s mouth, causing him to choke. He laid there in utter defeat while the Xaphoron held his tongue up like a trophy, similar to how the champion before had presented Neri’s eye before eating it.
Her body shook, her fingers spasmed, sending her chains rattling, giving her away. “I want to have an idea of what is coming.” She glanced at the potion he clutched in his hand. “And if you can control how I feel through it all, then it won’t matter if I know, right?”
He pressed his lips, looking disturbed, even angry. “It is unique enough that the crowds might eat it up. But you’ll still hate it in the moment. With the potion in your system, there is no other way.”
“I just need to know I’m not going to end up like them.”
He turned his head, a low snarl issuing out of him before facing her again. “Fine, Aryana. You needn’t worry. I shall not do anything that isn’t necessary.”
Gods, did she trust him enough to believe that? And even so, what might he decide was necessary? Did it matter? If he deemed it necessary, then would it automatically become part of the bargain for helping him win?
“Zarathos—”
“Times up.” He shook the vial, sloshing the dark liquid. “Drink, or I’m afraid I’ll have to force you.”
“So the potion will make me more apt to do and feel what you say?”
“It’s quite powerful. It will cause you to be open to many things… including your own thoughts. But yes, you won’t be able to resist what I say.”
She was placing herself at his mercy. But she had been there before. Technically, she’d been at his mercy from the moment he’d kidnapped her, and somehow, despite everything, he’d always come through.
So far.
Not to mention, he wanted the scepter. Surely, he’d keep her alive long enough to get it. Only in what condition?
But Zarathos was right. Time was up.
She reached out and took the small vial from him and downed its contents.
There was no going back.
The noises around Aryana grew muffled and suddenly she felt very calm. Zarathos stood before her. Damn, had she ever noticed how intensely handsome he appeared? The sharp cut of his features, the way he held himself with unshaken certainty, like the world conformed subtly to his presence. His eyes glowed when he looked at her, and something inside her melted. She liked it when he looked at her.
“Listen carefully, Vampress. I am your master and you are mine. You will do whatever I command you to do. Is that clear?”
Her first instinct was to refuse, but that was overpowered by a far greater urge. “Yes, master.”
“From the moment that we step out into that arena, you are going to be terribly and desperately afraid of me.”
Any resistance she possessed dissolved like mist. All she wanted was to follow him, to obey his every command. To become the vessel for his deepest, darkest desires.
“Yes, master.”
A light caress ghosted over her cheek. “Good girl.”
The announcer’s voice blared into their cell. “And last but certainly not least, our great arch king, Zarathos the Oath Forged One!”
Zarathos’s claws closed over her arm, giving her a tight squeeze she wasn’t sure was to reassure her or himself. His wings materialized from the darkness. “It’s our turn.”
And with that, he threw open the gate and tossed her out into the arena with such force that she stumbled and fell to her knees.
