Page 39 of Shadowbound

“My Paladin, you’ve been so good for me today,” she murmurs in my ear. “I know it’s not easy for a man like you to submit. You’ve been the biggest and the strongest all your life—it’s not easy to give your body and your will to another.”

“No, it’s fucking not,” I growl in her ear. But what I don’t say is though it’s not easy, it feels right. I don’t know what it is about Sylvanna—why I want to submit to her. But then again, I don’t really—do I? I’m only here for The Heart of the Eclipse.

“You can believe whatever you want to, Alaric,” she murmurs in my ear and I know she’s been reading my thoughts again. “Tell yourself whatever makes you feel better. But you can’t deny that you submitted beautifully to me today and I think, if given a chance to choose, you’d do it again.”

For a moment, I want to push her away and deny her words. Of course I wouldn’t be submitting if I wasn’t on a quest! But I can’t stand the thought of not touching her…not holding her. Her skin is so soft and it feels so good to be close to her as I’ve never been close to anyone since I was a tiny child—before my Celestial Fire started to burn people.

I remember how she gave me her healing nectar the night before—how she let me suck her breasts until she drove away the nightmare of the mad priest and I know I can’t let her go.

Though I won’t admit it to myself, I’m already starting to love her. But I won’t understand the extent of what I’m feeling until I almost lose her…

19

Alaric

We fall into a kind of routine in the days that follow. We wake every morning—or what passes for morning in Nocturna—and have breakfast that the invisible servants prepared for us. Then we generally go into the training room so that Sylvanna can help me work on my magic reservoir. We break at midday for lunch and take a stroll in her gardens, which is very pleasant. Then more training and then supper. I also manage to work in some sword-practice as well—I don’t want to get rusty, though at this point I don’t know when I’ll get back to my knightly duties for the GodKing.

After supper we bathe together. Sometimes Sylvanna bathes me but I prefer it when she lets me bathe her—I love touching her everywhere. After that we go to bed. I’m allowed to hold her for some time but then I must sleep at her feet. I wish she’d let me hold her all night, but she’s very firm about keeping a line between us—I am her Blood-servant, not her lover as she has reminded me more than once.

Sometimes I’m allowed to come before bed but most times I’m not. If I’ve done especially well during my training she’ll sit on my face—an erotic delight I never fucking tire of. I think I’m growing addicted to her scent and taste.

I grow used to being caged and tied, trained and teased and I have to admit, I don’t mind it. In fact, to my shame, I find that I’m coming to crave it.

Of course, I keep telling myself that I’m only allowing Sylvanna to “train” me in order to get to The Heart of the Eclipse, but it’s getting harder to believe that as I give myself more and more over to her.

I keep asking her when we’ll go to the City of Night and she keeps telling me not yet—I’m not quite ready. But I wonder if it’s she who isn’t quite ready. There seems to be some secret pain in her past associated with the City. I wish I knew what it was—she’s very guarded about her time there though I know she lived in the palace of the Queen of Nocturna for three years.

Then comes the day when we hear a timid knocking at the door of her tower. Sylvanna descends the steps to answer it and I follow along, ready to defend her if whoever is outside means her harm. No one is going to touch a hair of her head while I’m near her!

But there’s no fierce warrior outside her door—just a humble peasant with frightened eyes. He’s twisting the ragged cloth of his tunic and shifting from foot-to-foot as he looks up at us.

“Please, my Lady Sorceress,” he says in a voice shaking with emotion. “I never asked you for nothing before and my wife says you’ll probably kill me for asking but I have to try.”

“I do not kill anyone for making requests of me,” Sylvanna says. “Tell me, what is your trouble?”

“It’s Jacobin—my oldest boy,” the peasant says. “A fever came upon him sudden-like and he’s near death. I’ve heard that you hold the power of life and death in your hands, my Lady and I beg you—if there’s any way you can take my life and give it to my son, I’d do anything—pay anything!”

Sylvanna’s eyes go soft and compassionate—I’ve seen that look before. It’s the same expression she wore when she woke me from my nightmare and fed me healing nectar from her breasts while she stroked me. It’s still a memory I treasure.

“I cannot trade one life for another, but I’ll come to see your son,” she tells the peasant. “Maybe I can heal him. Just let me get my grimoire and some supplies.”

She disappears up the spiral stairs for a moment and then comes back down in a hurry, carrying a huge, heavy book bound in blood-red leather and a satchel full of supplies.

“Here, Mistress—let me take those.” I take the satchel and book, noticing that it seems to hum in my hands as I do. Then I follow Sylvanna out of the tower and the peasant nods to us.

“It’s this way, my Lady,” he says pointing. “About half a day’s walk in that direction.”

“Half a day’s walk? We’ve no time for that!” Sylvanna pulls a crystal from her satchel and looks at me. “I may need to draw on some of your stored power, Alaric. Transporting three people by magic is no easy task and I’ll need to save my own magic for healing the boy.”

“I’m yours to command, my Mistress,” I tell her. “But can you really take the three of us so far by magic?”

She nods.

“This is a traveling gem,” she says, nodding at the deep blue crystal she holds in her palm. It’s as long as my middle finger and pointed at both ends—as sharp as a needle.

The peasant looks frightened but says nothing at the idea of the three of us being whisked across the countryside by magical means. I believe that Sylvanna can do it—I have a feeling I’ve only seen a small part of her magic so far.

She beckons for me and I lean down to her. She places her hand on my collar and I feel something flowing out of me and into her. Could it be the power that’s been overflowing during our training sessions? I know my personal reservoir remains full—I’ve learned to feel it and see it in my mind’s eye whenever I want to now.

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