[THIS STORY WILL BECOME FREE ON THE 5th OCTOBER 2023]
Fara's husband, the Prince of Azura, is murdered and she's enslaved by his killer, Theodan, a warrior fighting a war he doesn't believe in - until her.
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** Warning - this chapter contains mature content.**
Her voice was no more than a warm whisper against his lips, her eyes dazzled and uncertain. Heavy and pleading. He understood what she needed of him — why she needed it of him. For if he did not accept then this thing between them now was not some agreement of terms, but something else altogether.
Something she could not agree to.
Of course, he longed for it to be this other thing — a desire consumed, a need abated, a longing finally met — but he would accept these terms nonetheless. He would accept whatever terms she imposed. So completely under her thrall was he. So desperate was he for her now.
So desperate in fact that it no longer seemed like weakness to him. It seemed like necessity.
'Yes princess,' he said as he lay her upon the bed. 'I accept your terms.'
He saw some tension ease off from her, her body softening in his arms. When she closed her eyes, dark gold lashes resting upon her flushed cheeks, he wondered if it was so she could imagine he was another. Her husband. That soft boy prince she had loved so.
A stab of envy scored through his chest.
'Look at me,' he commanded, his voice harder than he intended. She blinked open her eyes, the black centres expanding as she stared up at him. He saw the silver light from his own reflected in them. 'You are mine this night, Fara of Calate and Azura. I would hear you say it.'
'I am... yours... this night,' she said, her voice gentle but scraped raw. Doubt hovered in her eye, embers of reluctance. He wanted to pluck them out and crush them to dust in his fist.
No matter what he had said, he could not wipe her memory of Galyn of Azura's death - only the High Visier could tamper with memories unwanted - but Gods he wished for the ability now. Not only to rid her of the pain of it but to rid her of the prince's memory completely. To have her come to him now as though she had never felt another's touch upon her, as though he was the first to know her.
He felt envious. Not only of Galyn of Azura but of every other gaze which had fallen upon her before his. Envy at every touch she had received, at every soul who had brought a smile to her lips or a warm thought to her mind.
When he examined his own conduct, deeds and words which had brought her nought but misery and pain, he felt shrivelled with guilt and shame.
'I am yours this night, Theodan,' he said.
Her wide gold eyes flooded with hesitation, with the desire to defy.
'I am in your bed willingly am I not?' she said. 'Just as you assured me I would be - is that not enough?'
He wanted to tell her that it was likely he would never have enough of her. Even if he had her every night forth he would continue to yearn for her. A longing so deep it could never be met.
