Warlord's Ward

Earned Hatred

Eventually he was slowing, his neck straining and sweat slipping from his forehead onto my body and I felt him getting even harder deep inside me. I felt my body tensing in what might've been it preparing to seek its own pleasure.

No! I bit that down and refused to give him the gratification. He'll get nothing from me in this.

And in that moment, I hated him. And the words slipped from my lips. "I hate you."

But somehow the words didn't fully convey the onslaught of emotions I was feeling.

"Good." He said under his breath. Pushing hard into me as he spilled hot seed near my womb. Filling my crevice with his pleasure. "You should."

Seeming to care as much as if he'd just pulled an apple from a tree.

My legs lowered back to the bed, trembling. Stiff from the abuse they'd taken at his pounding.

Then he rose, drawing himself out of me and turning to pull on his clothes. Clearly not caring what he'd just done to me.

Or how it's made me feel.

Or maybe that's exactly what he wanted...

He pulled on his clothes. His next words seemed to confirm that suspicion.

"It's the way it should be." He exited the room. Slamming the door behind him with a finality that made me think my life had begun and would end in this very chamber.

***

I'd never resented anyone as much as I did him in that moment. How could he do that to me.

Before he'd had some semblance of kindness.

All of which was gone now.

There was clanging outside the door that told me knights were in the tower.

They never come up here. Why?

Warlord threw open the door and took off his flowing shirt and fitted breeches. Trading them in for dirty, dull clothes.

Two knights waited for him at the door.

Looking very serious.

"What's going on?"

"I have to serve a consequence for my actions."

"What did you do?" I asked as he leaned over me to toss his hat on the bed post.

"I helped them escape."

I recalled what he'd said earlier.

"Magus?"

"And the others." He said. "The King had suspended my penance for the ball that he wanted me present and healthy for. Now his guests have gone and we're back to normal operations. Which means its time for me to pay my consequence."

"What are they going to do?" I looked over his shoulder to see the two helmeted men, motionless.

He blinked slowly as he looked at me. Looking at me nearly as if he might not see me again.

And that made me scared. As awful as he'd just been, I knew that without his protection everyone could be far worse.

***

He pushed off the bed and whispered under his breath. "Barricade the door behind me. Open it for no one."

"It unlocks from the outside." I objected.

"I'm taking the key. But they may take it from me." He gave me a long look that warned me how dangerous that could prove for me.

"Let no one in."

"Nothing light enough I can move, will be heavy enough to keep them out."

"It will with the spell I put on the door, on the way out." He promised.

I reached up and caught his wrist. Wanting to plead for him not to go. To beg the knights to go away and leave him there to look after me. What if they killed him?

Will I starve here?

Will they come get me and have their time with me?

It was a terrifying thought, that as a captive I had no recourse.

Nowhere I can run. No one who would help me.

***

"I'll come back." Warlord promised.

"Can I trust you?"

"No."

"But I will return for you. One way or the other."

What does that mean?

I clung to him as he jerked away. Turning and pulling until his rough tunic sleeve slipped through my fingers.

"Warlord!" I pleaded.

He whipped his head to look at me, clear displeasure on his face.

"Killian..." I whispered.

'I'll come back.' He mouthed.

Then he was gone.

Far too quickly. I launched from the bed. Tossing aside the coverlet to test the door as soon as I heard it click closed. But tugging on it yielded nothing. So, I immediately went to work doing as Warlord had told me.

Pushing the table over and then the chairs. Trying to stack as much weight on it as I could.

Then I ran back to the bed and huddled under the covers, watching the door and praying that he'd come back.

***

As he left a dress materialized over the table. A plain gray one, which looked loose and comfortable.

One to replace the one he tore off me.

I scuttled into the dress.

He was gone all night and returned midday the following.

I was still huddled on the bed. My knees drawn to my chest and staring at that door rocking. Terrified of who would come knocking. I hadn't moved all night, nor when the sun rose. My stomach growled with hunger, but I was too afraid to move.

Fearing that if someone heard a floorboard creak in here, they might remember my existence. And come for me.

I heard one solid thud on the door. "It's me, Jade. Move everything."

I recognized his voice. But there was something wrong with it.

He sounds hoarse, exhausted.

I quickly unstacked everything. And dragged the table away in rough jerks. "It's clear."

Warlord turned the key in the lock and swung the door open. His shoulder was propped against the doorframe. And he was holding that bicep with his other hand. Huddled over like he was in pain.

I caught him and helped guide him in. What's wrong with him?

What'd they do?

"Close the door." He ordered.

I automatically moved around him to comply but as I gripped the door I stared at the stairs. Tempted. I could get away. I could go now...

I looked back at him.

Peeling his tunic off and tossing it on the floor revealed he was cut all over his torso in jagged lines and blots of blood covered him in dark patches.

He's hurt.

I looked back at the stairs.

He couldn't chase me. Can't stop me. I chewed my lip.