Page 74 of Shadows and Roses

Anais managed a small smile. "You shouldn’t. If he breaks your heart, he’ll answer to me. He knows that. And the same for you, Maddy. Don’t hurt him. That’s all."

"Of course. I know, we both know. Thank you. Naia… thank you."

Her lips thinned. "You shouldn’t call me that."

"I know. I’m sorry."

Silence. Then, "Good night, Maddy."

"Good night, Naia."

Her friend’s joy soothed her enough to let her rest, for tonight. One small, tiny good thing she could do against a world filled with rage and pain. But perhaps not so small a thing for her companions.

Chapter 19

Castien

Whip. Thrust. Whip. Thrust.

Pain and pleasure in sharp contrast. He was on his back on a bed, his limbs spread and tied tightly to the corner posts. Her disgusting tongue licked the blood oozing from his chest, and he twitched despite himself. The whip cracked again. A new, raw red line formed on his stomach. His back arched. She moaned with his every movement. He couldn't relax, his heartbeat too fast, his breath too short, his muscles too tense.

His stomach tightened, the pleasure cresting. No.

Thrust. Whip. Flinch.

No. No. Nonono.

Yes.

No!

It hurt. It felt so good and it hurt, a dull ache in his loins that was echoed by his heart. He groaned, his hips twitching erratically with his pulses, his face twisted in agony and need.

The pillow was wet. A strange thing to notice as he fell from that unwanted release. Wet, from his tears. The bitch was winning. His Queen wouldn't want him broken. He had to fight. She wouldn't want him at all if he didn't fight. He shut his eyes against the bitch's cruel grin.

"You're mine now," she whispered into his ear, leaning down and licking the tears from his face, squirming on top of him. Her teeth dug into his shoulder and she sighed.

"Mmm. A broken toy's first tears are the sweetest. You'll cry for me again, won't you?" She laughed.

Meaningless words that shouldn't have cut him, but more tears escaped. He snarled, a muffled, pathetic sound against the cloth binding his mouth. Her laughter burned into his mind as he struggled, flailed, strained against his straps. Her hips rubbed against him again, her moaning too loud, her claws shredding his arms. He screamed and struggled and fought.Don't move.He had to fight.Don't participate.Get off me get off me get off me.No no no.No…

His body betrayed him, again and again. She'd whip his back bloody, then ride him until he gave in. Pain, pleasure, pain, pleasure. What was the difference? When he found release with the whip as the only stimulation, her laughter snapped something inside him.

He stopped fighting.

Chapter 20

Anais

Anais flipped a knife, blade to handle to blade. She considered shredding a few of the scrolls piled on the table. They all said the same thing—skirmish lost, battle won, casualties minimal, raid successful.

Nothing about Castien.

The scrolls arrived daily now. Both she and Yelena refused to declare outright war or commit too many forces. Any more troop movement could tip the balance. Regardless, the other nations were not blind. All borders across the continent were seeing escalated activities. If winter were not approaching, war would already have erupted.

As it stood, they needed as much time as possible. The rebels had finally sent their messenger today. The boy only waited for the end of this meeting.

Anais looked to Laureline, who shook her head. "Castien has been moved to Queen Yelena’s private wing. We don’t have eyes there. But he’s still alive—she references him openly."

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