Page 70 of Boundless
Fenris looked at it, his hand unsteady, then gulped down the liquid quickly, a thin dribble tracking down the corner of his mouth. Once it was gone he set the cup down with a grimace, making Len feel still more uncomfortable. "We'll—we'll have to wait until it's had a chance to digest and work through your system before I can do proper healing, but I can at least take the edge off of the pain for now." Len strode to his side once more, crouching and taking Fenris' hand. He couldn't look the other man in the eye, but a quick glance at his face revealed that between the meal and the easing of his pain, Fenris was already starting to look better.
THEY WERE LEFTalone in the dungeon for several hours, allowing Len to heal Fenris considerably and feed them both with his milk. His stores were fully depleted by then, and despite how tired he was, he took the time to ensure his milk production was fully shut down. He'd still have the breasts for now, but at least he'd no longer have to deal with the milk.
Once he was done he fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of Daega and the rest of his family charging towards the elven capitol of Llyvelli, a beautiful fantasy he ached to lose when he woke to the sound of a guard barking at them.
Len was forced into cuffs and shoved out into the hall, the guard shoving him flinging slurs at him all the while. Fury replaced Len’s fear, steadying his legs as he was shoved along the passage, knowing where he was going without the guard having to say anything.
It was time to see the king.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Father to Son
LEN
HE WAStaken to an interrogation room down in the lower levels of the castle, empty except for two chairs and sconces with torches burning in them. And his father, sitting ramrod straight in one chair, a look of disgust hewn into his icy features.
"Lenlethael," his father said simply when the guard forced Len into the opposite chair, his cuffed hands almost sending him to the floor, instead. They'd been cuffed in front of him, but it still hurt his balance.
"Father," Len whispered, his eyes darting around the small room.
Haedelon turned to the guard. "Leave us," he told him.
Once it was just the two of them the king loosed a deep, long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Do you have any idea of the trouble you've caused?" his father sighed wearily. "Do you know how itlooks, that you've been sequestered with the savages for so long?"
Len's spine stiffened, his fury growing. "They—they'renotsavages," he bit out, frowning. His father's nostrils flared, eyes squinting in anger.
"Excuse me?" Haedelon asked with deadly calm, but Len was fed up.
"I—I s-said they're not savages. They're g-good people, and it w-wasyouwho—"
"I told you tomarryher, Lenlethael. Not take up with the whole lot of them." His lip curled in disgust, eyes drifting to Len's chest. "My men tell me you even mutilated your body for their sick perversions. That you have—havetitsnow."
"It wasn't for anything s-sexual!" Len cried, his emotions kicking into a swarm. "I did it tof-feed my son. Yourgrandson." His chest heaved with deep, furious breaths, no doubt bringing more attention to his breasts. But he didn't care anymore. "W-why can't you be ha-happy for me? For the fact that—that I've found happiness?"
His father sneered, rearing back. "Happy? With the monsters? Salerah's fires, Lenlethael, why the ever-lovingfuckwould I care about that? You have failed in your duty and now I have a truly monumental mess to clean up."
Len hated how much that hurt—to hear that his father didn't care. That Len was nothing more than a piece in a brutal game to the elf king. "W-what mess?" he asked at length.
Haedelon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose again. "My lady-wife is with child," he said, blue eyes shuttered. "I am not totally unreasonable, and am offering one last chance to save your hide and not disappoint me utterly. If you go back to the savage's camps and bring back the heads of the king and queen, then I will let you live. I may even keep you as my heir, if you please me enough." Panic whited out Len's vision, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. He forced deep, even breaths, hoping that he'd avoid fainting.
"A-and if I r-refuse?" he asked faintly.
His father frowned, lip curling. "Then I kill you now, right here, like the pitiful wretch you are. You are and have always been my greatest shame, Lenlethael, and if you cannot do this for me then I truly have no use for you. I will have a new heir, soon." He paused, inspecting his fingernails and cleaning under one absently. "And if you accept, I will be sending my head of espionage with you as an escort to ensure you follow through. That your cowardly heart does not fail you."
Tears streamed down Len's face, his every suspicion about his father confirmed on no uncertain terms. Before meeting Daega and the other Istarii Drakan it would have destroyed him to hear all that, would have ground him into dust. But now...
Now he was furious. There was no hope for Haedelon, no chance to convince the elf king to pursue the beautiful future that was so close at hand.
"Why are you d-doing this? Why not j-just stick to the treaty? Why even agree to it in the f-first place?"
The king rolled his eyes, looking bored. "Gods, are you truly this stupid, boy? So foolish that you can't see it? Were you ever paying attention atall?"
Len set his jaw, his hands curling into fists. "I just w-want to hear you say it, y-you bastard." Daega had been right; he’d agreed to the treaty to save face, but never intended to uphold it.
Haedelon snarled, getting to his feet and grabbing Len's chin in an unforgiving grip. Len gathered aether quickly, panic settling in when doing so caused his head to swim in an all-to-familiar way.Fuck, no, please not now...
"Listen here, you worthless pile of shit," his father snarled, spittle dotting Len's face. "You should be thanking me for keeping you. I fed you, clothed you, put a roof over your head and made sure you wanted for nothing, and in return you have done nothing but fail me and disappoint me. You will not talk to me that way—" Len went hot and cold, his vision fuzzing, but he had it; he sent that thread of aether pinging into his father's body from where the king still gripped his face.
