Page 36 of Veiled Flames
I blink, trying to ignore his striking beauty and see this man as he truly is—loathsome.
“Touch my horse again, and I’ll kill you.” Tynan’s voice is low and harsh. His chest is heaving, and his exhales scald my face with ire. His grip tightens, pinching my arms as he pins me against the rock face.
I can’t help but notice how easily he’s holding me aloft, but I won’t be intimidated by his superior height and strength, or distracted by his disarming male beauty. Letting hatred build inside me, I focus instead on the cruelty this man has clearly inherited.
“Pink hair,” he says, and I realize my cap has fallen off.
“Same shade as that princess who spurned my family.” Something flashes through his expression. “Every soul in Achotia will suffer for that bitch’s insult!”
“Your horse came loose.” I’m careful to deepen my voice as the breath returns to my chest. “Not only did I prevent his escape, I watered him, fed him an apple and removed a stone from his hoof.”
Shock flashes over Tynan’s face, followed by something else. Something I can’t identify.
His face moves closer and closer to mine. Lightning bolts strike and sizzle inside me, as his intensely green gaze melds into mine. His pupils are small in the bright sunlight, revealing two rings of deep green that frame the flashing brightness between. That’s why his eyes are so striking but doesn’t explain why they affect me so.
Ihatethis man. I detest his arrogance and cruelty. I despise everyone in his lineage, especially given what his grandfather would have done to me. And yet my body is reacting almost like it does when I’m close to Saxon.
“I am yoursuperior.” Tynan presses his body weight against mine. “Your better in every possible way.” His lips slither into a sneer. “I should toss you over this cliff for your impertinence. A quick lesson about respect, for the other recruits.”
Fear rises. He looks like he means it, and the pressure of his body as he pins me feels threatening in other ways too. His lower body is pushed hard against my thighs, against my cleft. I want to look away, but I can’t. I’m trapped, not only in his hold but also by his eyes.
“If you toss me over the cliff.” I finally find words. “Master Saxon wouldn’t like it.”
A hint of recognition—or something—flashes in his eyes.
Fear seizes me. I’ve been caught out.
If I’m to be sent back for my marriage, being tossed over the cliff seems the better option.
But Tynan drops me, as if I’m on fire.
The instant my boots hit the ground, he lunges forward again, looming over me as his hands land hard on my shoulders and he presses me back against the cliff.
“Tossing a runt like you is redundant.” He sneers. “A waste of my energy. You’re already dead. You won’t last your first day at camp.”
He releases his hold and turns away.
Fourteen
Tynan
Thrixing slag!Why does that runt vex me?I draw deep breaths, fighting to get control of myself.
The candidates will have to file past me to enter the wagon, and so I duck between Thunder and the cliff, so I can adjust my rod, painfully pressing against the front flap of my breeches.
Thrix if I didn’t get hard. Thrix if I didn’t press my cock against that runt of a boy as I held him pinned to the wall.
Clearly, it’s been too long since I’ve impaled a soft cleft. I’ve taken every opportunity while on this trip, but few souls live this close to the veil, so it’s been a few days. Until we get back to camp, I won’t get another chance to wet my rod, so I’ll just have to wait. Any wench at camp will willingly spread for me upon our arrival.
I’ve never had even vague stirrings for a boy, but this little turd, with his bright purple eyes and soft pink hair, turned me hard as a rock.
For that alone, I should toss him over the cliff. And even if he’s a peasant, he’s from Achotia, and someone must pay for the crime committed by his princess. I’d do it now, if I thought word would get back to Khotor and gain me some favor with Father and the King. Knowing them, they’ve already found many women to punish in her stead.
I stroke Thunder’s neck and then release his reins from the caravan.
Huh. The hitching knot was tied in the opposite direction to my normal manner. In my haste to discover why we’d stopped, did I fail to properly secure Thunder? Did that runt actually save my steed?
It doesn’t matter. Even if the boy did me a kindness, it would be an error to offer him thanks, and I was right to punish him for touching my steed. These candidates must learn the hierarchy at camp. And they must be toughened up if they’re to survive their first weeks.
