Forsaken & Claimed

Chapter 21

Ares

"We're ready."

The Priest shifted through a thick stack of papers, and he glances up every now and again with an expression I know well; disgust. After a few minutes, he tossed it aside and glared. I'm sure if we were in the same room, his vibrations would bring us all to our knees.

"Rose--"

"Pandora," I chime in.

"Pandora, family name unknown. You have been charged with multiple counts of murder, piracy, kidnapping, unlawful torture, political assassination, body modifications--" the Priest starts.

"Lewd public behavior, dark lewd indulging, trading clan secrets, b and e, illegal confiscation of goods, illegal trading, the illegal start of a country, treason and oh, double parking. I am aware of my outstanding achievements," Pandora said.

Suppressing my smile, I bring the cane right to her ample ass. It was light, quick, and sharp. The pain will reside quickly. Her head snapped up to me, and the cane bites into her again. She sucked in a heavy breath and released it as a hiss.

"Respect and eyes front," I said.

"These charges normally come with a higher penalty, but under the circumstances, we agreed to leave it up to Beta. I don't want to see you here again," the Priest nod.

Her body wasn't quivering as it should, she shivered once in a while, but that was from the ice chilling her. Maybe I should've come up with something a little more taxing next time. The closer I examine her, the more her scars come to light. Either she's had a terrible upbringing, or she's seasoned in this dance. No matter the answer, this still has to be done. Every second of it will bring me joy. That sound of flesh being struck goes straight between my legs. I'm careful to keep the strikes parallel, never crisscrossing them. Pandora never cries out, but her labored breathing tells me I'm doing my job right. The ice cracks and crunches in her hands as she tightens her grip.

"Drop any of it, or I'll keep going," I said.

"I'll fucking shove it down your--"

The cane comes down in quick secession, "You won't be shoving anything anywhere."

I lean close to her ear, "That's our job."

Even with my best efforts, she doesn't make a peep or shed a tear. This won't do at all, but her ass was striped and red. Any more, and I would be irresponsible, I have no idea her limits, and she isn't candid. After admiring my work and I start to wipe down my tool.

"Losing your touch in your old age," the Priest asked.

"She feels it. Just too proud to say it," I smile.

Her body was cover in a light sheen of sweat, and her vibrations spiked a long time ago. Pandora's face told another story, though, defiance. I would love to peel back those layers and see what really lies inside.

"Let's hope so. Be at the arena in twenty minutes," the Priest said, ending the call.

"You can relax," I said.

She dropped her position with a huge sigh and fell to her side. Pandora slowly straightened her legs and tried to pluck the rice from her knees. Her hands shook as she tried to focus them. Kneeling, I gently brushed the grains from her skin, then I cupped her hands in mine, blowing and rubbing them. Her expression didn't change, but she didn't fight me as I helped her.

"Before you sleep, we'll fix you up," I said.

She pulled away and hauled her body up, "I'll be fine."

"We know that, but we'll help anyway," Owen said, standing, "You did better than expected."

"I'm not surprised. Living in that cesspool for so long will either break you or make you strong," Casimir said, pulling her top over her head, "We need to go."

As he tried to help her with the skirt, she snatched it and slid it over those beautiful marks.

*************

Pandora

It wasn't as bad I thought it would be though I am sore. I could do it again with my eyes closed. Sebastian was worse; his playpen was hell. Those weeks Vicky and I spent in there still haunt me to this day.

"I can carry you," Owen said.

"No," I said, swatting his hands away.

How deep or elaborate was this underground lair? All the hallways seem to go on forever then end into an open space. This arena was impressive, especially for it being hidden down here. I wonder if they hold fights here or is it just for these ceremonies. The crowd was still loud for its quiet demeanor. Rows of seats were filled, but the arena space before us was bare. We walked out to the middle with the bright spotlights shining down on us. Owen wrapped his hand around my waist and pulled me close. His desire is apparent—panic typhoons through my body, and I thrash against him, earning a cheer from the crowd.

"This is up to you," Owen whispered.

"Is it? They're expecting a show."

"So what?"

"I don't want a congo line of men trying to fuck me. I can take out one or two, but all of you work in teams of three. I can't win."

That last sentence came out how I thought it would. Desperate, lost, and trapped. He used his other hand to guide my attention back to him.

"Not tonight is all I can promise in good faith. But if you give yourself to us, I can promise on all of our lives that until we die, no one will touch you."

My thoughts wandered to Abel. Was he out there waiting for me? Waiting for his chance? Did I still want someone who lied to me?

"What are you thinking?"

"Abel and I--" my voice went silent, trying to figure out how to explain it.

"I can't speak for him or his team, but I do know they want you. What do you want to happen?"

"Is going home an option?"

"You want to be executed?"

"I want to be free. As I always wanted. To run in the fields of sunflowers. The free lands where I was raised."

His eyes grew sad; it was the answer I didn't want.

"You're too unique to this clan to let go and too dangerous to the east. Everyone will hunt you down. In my strategic opinion, staying in this clan will keep you living, protected but--"

"I have to play the game or risk death or being--"

"Yes. What's your decision?"

My stomach turned; it was too similar to that day Celia and I were captured. That night we argued about me getting comfortable with killing, starting with our dinner, the rabbit. I refused, then in the early morning, the east came. Celia took a lot of their 'convincing' but didn't cave until they got to me. For all she told me growing up, that we were nothing but just two people surviving, that I meant nothing, she surrendered. The one thing she said she'd die before doing then after that in the slums, she was a shell of her former self.

"Can I be a warrior, or were you just telling me what I wanted to hear, " I asked.

"I meant it."

"Fine, let's do it. Be quick about it," I said.

I needed to survive in one piece. Regain and grow in status and complete my goal. Owen's vibrations ricocheted; he dragged his hand over the lower part of his face then his expression went dark. He dropped his grip from my waist.

"You sure know how to make a man go soft. Not how I imagined this going," he said.

"Does my feelings really matter? You all get what you want regardless," I said.

"I guess not everything," he said.