Page 93 of Tristan
I can’t argue with that.
“Here,” he slips the ring on my finger. “I wish I could say I’m sorry for the things I do, but I’m far too selfish. I want you any way I can have you. All I have on offer are apologies you’ll find meaningless, and tokens of my affections you’ll find insincere.”
It’s the first time I’ve let him admit such affections out loud. “Thank you. It means a great deal to have this in my possession again.” I run my finger over the band.
“You need not be ashamed of your papa, Tristan. It’s a great honor to be submissive. Look at my brother. He commands an entire kingdom alongside my father, and he is submissive. He has no trouble telling me what I must do,” he grumbles.
“How does that work, anyway?”
“Submissive does not mean weak. It means great power. Andothair has only ever allowed one to have dominion over him aside from Father.”
“Corrik.”
“Yes. His need for punishment and rules does not mean he’ll allow just anyone to provide that for him.”
“How was he able to discipline me?”
“You could discipline someone too if you chose to. You have arms and a brain, haven’t you?”
“But shouldn’t it go against my nature or his to do so?”
“It will, which is why neither of you would receive much satisfaction in it.”
“Which is why he was quick to relinquish the duties. Why didn’t he tell me?”
“Because he knew you wouldn’t go to him anymore if he told you and he knew you needed it.”
“Are you trying to tell me he was doing something for my benefit?”
“Why wouldn’t he? Andothair is a good man and would never let a human suffer needlessly. He helped you for as long as he could.”
Right. We’re the equivalent of animals to these Elves. He makes it sound like Andothair is an anti-human cruelty activist. “He tried to kill me,” I remind him.
“He was driven to kill you—he is bonded to Corrik. He didn’t kill you—that’s what matters. It took great strength to stop himself killing you. Don’t you want to do the same to anyone who keeps you from Corrik? Don’t you plan my death each night?”
“No. I’ve no wish to kill you.” I reach out to toy with a lock of his hair.Bayaden is beautiful.
“I am too magnificent to kill.”
He’s trying to make me laugh—Bayaden isn’t usually this soothing—I cut him a quarter smile but say no more to that. I’m breathing hard, the room is spinning a little and I have to hold the table to steady myself. Corrik’s use of sex magic is irrelevant I realize. What I’ve done is worse. I had to marry Corrik either way, his use of magic to make me fall in love with him was a kindness, it made everything easier.
As for me, at first, I did the things I have because I was coerced, but what I’ve been struggling with is how much I enjoy them. I go to Bayaden as willingly as I went to Andothair for punishment. Diekin says Corrik will forgive me, that Elves feel differently than humans, but I am a human and I don’t think it’s okay. I don’t deserve Corrik for that reason and most of all, I don’t deserve him because I do have feelings for Bayaden—real feelings. He does something to me, and I crave him.
Corrik will move on or perhaps return to Andothair’s side. Diekin will be with his mate and Markaytia will have an important ally. Everything will be good.
So why does the thought of it all make me dizzy?
Bayaden puts a strong hand to the side of me that’s not supportedby the table. “Especially you, with your Markaytian sense of duty, must realize you did what you had to in order to save your friend. There is only one reason for all of this guilt.”
“I enjoy it, all right? I enjoy when you fuck me.”
“There is something more than fucking. It must be more than fucking. If you won’t be honest with me, at least be honest with yourself. You care for me. Not like you care for Corrik, but enough.”
I’ve already been honest with myself, but I won’t admit it out loud. “Care for you? How could I care for my captor? It’s only the fucking I seek, and my body craves you now. I’m tarnished and it’s too late. I can’t face Corrik ever again.”
“You do care for me though,” he says again. “Otherwise, it wouldn’t matter what your body enjoyed. Rest assured, it isn’t your fault, Tristan. I have magic too you know,” he says with a beaming smile. “Don’t beat yourself up over it, leave that to me.”
I say nothing and glare at him.
