Page 31 of A Touch of Savagery

“Reach your hands up here.” He tapped the spot, and Oriel held onto the bars. “You’ll stay like that and remain quiet until I let you out. Keep your eyes down, and if I catch you fidgeting or looking around, you’ll really be screaming after I hit the back of your fingers. If you pull your hands in, I’ll take you out, and you’ll wish you’d obeyed. Do I make myself clear?”

Oriel sniffled as he aimed his eyes down. "Yes, Master."

Roth brushed the cane over his fingers as a reminder. “You might think I’m cruel, but what Father did was nothing.”

He was fucked with either. Roth spoke like he was saving Oriel from worse, and maybe he technically was at the moment, but if he was this cruel after only a few hours together, what would happen later? He might grow bored and end up breaking Oriel after a few months.

He tried to imagine himself in a year or two. Maybe he’d be shattered to the point where he didn’t care or feel anything anymore.

Roth read on his couch for most of the afternoon while Oriel kept still and stared at the floor until it blurred and everything in his peripheral was indistinguishable. Roth only spoke to him to let him out later for a bath. When he snapped, Oriel knew to get on his knees on the hard tile in the privy room. He waited there until the lead was attached to his collar.

He had to crawl as Roth led him downstairs. He was allowed to stand for the stairs so he wouldn’t fall, break his neck, and be worthless after less than twenty-four hours. Anger sparked in his chest as he was led into the Hall like a damn dog. People stared as they sat at the round tables or milled around.

“They’re probably all jealous that they don’t have a purple-eyed traitor’s son for a pet,” Roth murmured to him as they went around the High Table.

Oriel kept his face placid as he kneeled by Roth’s feet on the floor. The tablecloth hid him from view so the courtiers couldn't stare at him, and he kept his head down. The last thing he wanted was another beating or worse. His whole ass still ached with every movement.

He’d made his decision in the bath. One day, Roth would fuck up, and Oriel would give him a taste of pain. He’d have to be smart about when and how, and he’d have to kill himself afterward to avoid the room, but he’d be as good as dead in a few years with this savage monster beating and rutting him night after night.

He didn't truly want to die, but death was better than letting himself get to that point.

Boots clomped behind him, and the lord’s voice made his heart race. “How he’s been acting?”

“Decent,” replied Roth. “He’s obedient, but I thrashed his ass in case he gets ideas later.”

“Good.” Oriel kept his posture and expression meek even when Lord Delwin bent over to grab him by the hair and tilt his head back. “Pain always works. Make sure those burns don’t get infected or your toy won’t last for long.”

Pain could also make people angry. Oriel wasn’t a crying mess now, and anger steadily burned in his chest. It flared when Roth dropped bits on the floor and told him to eat it like that.

Oriel ate the pieces of meat like a dog and pictured choking Roth or cutting his throat. Better yet, he’d tie Roth down, and he could see what the cane felt like before Oriel raped him. Let him suffer a fraction of what he’d been through since that night King Taven betrayed them. It still wouldn’t be enough, but it would be something. He could at least get back at one person that hurt him.

Roth didn’t seem interested in staying for dessert, and he led Oriel out.

“Crawling upstairs is easier, so stay down like a good doggy,” he said with a hint of laughter in his voice.

Oriel said nothing. After he pissed in the bathing room, he was put in his cage where a bowl of food and another of water awaited him. He hadn't noticed the tiny flap at the back, and it was far too small to fit through. A little bucket was in the corner for pissing.

“You’ll eat and drink on your hands and knees.” Roth locked the cage. “Sleep well.”

He left. Maybe he wanted to rejoin the Hall, mingle, and not worry about his slave. Oriel ate appropriately even though he was alone. He didn’t want to take risks now that he finally had time to rest. He forced the small meal down, drank his water, and finally curled up on his side on the blanket to spare his brutalized ass. He stared at the shiny wood floors and tried not to cry again.

This would be over one day on his terms. He just had to last a while, but he had no idea how long. He pulled one side of the blanket over himself and tried to pretend it was Aspen’s arms as he fell asleep.

He was mostly left in the cage for the next few days. Whatever Roth was busy with, he didn’t have time to play with his slave. Oriel got a bath in the morning, time to sit on the privy, and the brands were checked to make sure nothing was infected.

He didn’t get balm like Roth had possibly mentioned, and his caned ass didn’t get any soothing ointment either. He mostly remained on his side to avoid pressure on his bruised rear.

The servants said nothing when they brought him food and water and came to clean up until the third day. One finally paused by the cage with a faintly disgusted look. He wasn’t sure if it was him in particular or because Roth had another fairy locked up like an animal.

“Are you the traitor’s son?” she asked. “Oriel?”

“My Father didn’t betray King Taven,” Oriel spat without thinking as lay on his side. His stomach instantly clenched because if she said anything, he’d end up back over the cage or worse.

She blinked and bit her lip as she brushed back a few strands of her blue hair that had gotten caught on her tiny horns. “Everyone says your Father did.”

Oriel quickly looked away before his foolish mouth got him in more trouble. The servant hurried off to join the others in the bedroom.

Fuck. Three days, and he’d get a brutal whipping if she tattled.

---