Page 57 of The Sacrifice

After all, the only one who can break me is...me.

42

"Imagine what I could make you feel in my bed, little wisp."

QUINTESSA

The first lash strikes. And burns. I seize up. Muscles tighten. Wrists strain in the shackles. It’s not the pain that undoes me. It’s the tranquil predator within his eyes. And the unflinching grip upon the handle of the flail. This, I hate the most. And lurch on instinct, never wanting to escape more, never feeling so trapped. He strikes again. A mere flick of his wrist but with enough force to needle my upper thighs. Two lashes to my bottom pierce the flesh, stinging and heating the skin. I didn’t think it was possible for my hatred to grow, but it does when he cups my bottom. I gasp. I quiver. Because he caresses the raw flesh, his cool palm soothing the heat. Jerking in the restraints, I try to escape him, praying and begging my body, but it’s too late. That telltale heartbeat pulses between my thighs, and I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I could deny the wetness coating my pussy.

He flares his nostrils. Of course, he scents my arousal. If only he would chuckle or make some snide comment, but he doesn’t. Instead, he rains down blows upon the rounded flesh of my backside with the coldest and greatest control. And he palms my burning skin with the utmost care and attention. Oh, blazing gods! Nothing like Drago or any of the Kings. So full of emotion and need, they gave me every ounce of their desire. Even Merikh did that night in the dungeon when I thanked him. Drago gave me his fire.

Kronos gives me nothing. No emotion. No expression. As if he is a numb ghost. At some point, the pain of several blows blends into one swelling inflammation. A smoldering heat that has my body writhing, squirming, arching. Desperate to get away from the threat of pleasure, my mind shakes free of the moment.

Until he slams his palm against my bare sex. And grips my jaw to kiss me hard, tongue invading and demanding my attention. “You will not fade, little wisp. You are not a ghost with me.”

I look down to discover myself naked before him. The nightgown lies in tattered scraps on the ground below me. This time, when he strikes my pussy, pain explodes, but a tightness inside me grows, stretching and coiling. Over and over, he hits my cunt. Too calm and calculated, he targets my clitoris, unleashing an inferno on the tender bundle of nerves. My breath comes in crazed pants, but his is still and steady. Not one trace of labor in his chest. Tears squeeze from my eyes. I’m twisting my body, moaning because he won’t let me fade, won’t let my mind take me beyond the endorphins assaulting my blood.

Through it all, Qora says nothing. Does nothing. She remains in the corner of the cavern, shadowy back to me.

Kronos pauses, and I clench from the contrast of the wind singing against my seared and swollen flesh. Navigating around to my back, he slides a lone finger down my spine. “You could never understand the serenity of this moment,” he purrs warmth against my blistered skin, and I tremble, jerking in the restraints. “The utter beauty and power that comes with watching my creation. So vulnerable, willing and aching and begging for only what he may provide.”

“I don’t want a damn thing from you. Except your head on a platter,” I seethe.

Not one shred of amusement. Just a stab of his fingers through my slit. I shriek from the onslaught of sensation. “Oh, goddammit!” I cry out as he plunges those fingers inside me and circles them once, collects my slickness, and retrieves them.

“Your tongue says one thing, but your body shows another.” He rubs my arousal across my chest, and I cringe, turning away. “You fear your want most of all. And all that holds you back, little wisp, is the false bond of four damned monsters.”

“It’s not false!” I yell in denial, struggling with the bonds again despite how much the shackles chafe and sting my wrists.

“Sweet little shade, you truly believe they wanted you?” As if to reinforce the impossibility of their desire, of the abandonment that has followed me all my life, Kronos presses his lips to mine, stabbing his tongue inside. My shoulders slacken, muscles weakening from the effort. I lean into his mouth for support, undone by the supremacy of his lips and tongue against mine and the lust he stokes with his kiss. As if he fuses himself to me, all-consuming and binding, but he has the power to rip himself from me and leave me hollow. “Only the monster who made you, touched you at birth, could ever form such a bond.”

My heart staggers. Blood thunders in my ears from the profession, how he smiles and combs his fingers into my hair, shifting strands and tapping the puckered flesh on my scalp. The birth brand. The shame that marked me as half-alive. But Kronos has made me feel alive. Too alive. In this dungeon, I’ve become his slave. Not his equal. He doesn’t need me. And I quake with the knowledge of how I need him.

“They do want me,” I try to say, but my breath stutters, and my voice is weak. “I want them.”

“Poor little wisp. Do you not remember the trapped souls?” He opens his robe to show his belt housing many more bottles filled with the spirit beings. My chest squeezes at the memory of the little one I held as she perished in my hands. “Your lifespan is but a breath to me. On the night of your birth, I devoured your twin’s soul. But I saved yours for a snack. And left my mark upon you.” He pats the back of my head, and I cringe from the knowledge of the scar I’ve concealed from the Kings: the harpe symbol of my monster-touched curse—proof I’d found disfavor with the god-eater. “A pity I never had the chance to taste it since the Kings stole it on one of my visits.”

Something inside me splinters. Rattles me to the core. He’s hunted his way into my heart. He’s invaded my blood cells and channels his power into them as I’ve done with my vym. Kronos, the Emperor, Ruler of the Five Realms, transcribes his name and bond within every scar I bear. And every ink mark covering those scars.

“Yes, my will o’ the wisp. Every time they kissed you or fucked you, you reclaimed the shreds of the half-soul they consumed. Your essence was a siren call to them. Nothing more.”

“His fire came back. His dragon came back!” I shake my head violently, choking on a sob.

“Yes, a flawless power exchange. Half-souls do not fade. They linger and cling to whatever they can to keep from becoming a lost soul. Whenever the High King stuck his cock in you, pieces of his soul escaped with yours. You became a conduit. And I am the orchestrator of your story, of your journey, little one. You have worn my mark long before they gave you theirs. It is why you feel more with me, including fear.”

“Mmm...” I thrust my head back when he palms my breasts and pinches my nipples, squeezing and twisting them.

“Imagine what I could make you feel in my bed, little wisp,” he hums against my neck and drapes his tongue down to my collarbone.

Heat floods my belly. The pulse between my thighs throbs harder, but I clench my teeth around a snarling, “No...”

My snarl turns to a wail because he pulls on the taut buds. Strong and hard enough to jerk my whole body forward by them. The pain of them stretching has me gasping, but the moment he releases them and stabs his tongue to one of the peaked tips, I thrash worse than ever. The rhythmic pulse in my pussy beats harder, quicker. He licks, nips, and circles his tongue around both pointed peaks before closing the wet heat of his mouth around one. I throw my head back and moan from the invisible thread connecting the tight bud to my clit. It’s vibrating with tension. I’m ready to snap.

“No,” I gasp, but my energy is all but spent. My muscles too worn and weak to do much. “You’re not making me do this!” I sob, hanging my head, clamping my eyes shut, so I can’t see his mouth on my breast.

“Give me your name, little wisp. It is not right that the creator does not know what to call his creation,” he eludes while scraping his teeth along my nipple.

I look down through watery eyes, press my lips together at the sight of his eyes. I’m on the receiving end of the softened silver. He kisses my other nipple, palms the flesh of both my breasts, bringing them together. And then...he kneels before me. My eyes widen in alarm. I scream from that first flick of his tongue upon my clit. My body jolts when he lashes the nub. And circles around it. I scream again, fighting my body with every ounce of willpower I have. But his tongue is smoldering destruction. I shake from head to toe, body jolting. With every lick, he surges raw flames into my blood. Pausing, Kronos pulls back the hood, exposing me more. I shake my head, pleading with my eyes full of tears.

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