A Royal Rebellion (15 page)

The soft slap of leather on flesh made Percy peek. A big, swarthy man dressed in a simple cotton shirt and soft-looking silk pants wielded a golden chamois-wrapped crop, and he was spanking the red-haired slave girl on the ass with it. She moaned, lifting her ass as she fell to all fours, taking the whipping with pain and enjoyment. The stable master slapped her ass again, and she fell to her side on the floor, obviously enjoying the punishment more than not.

Percy risked a glance at the stable master as he waded through the slaves sitting on the floor, the girls ducking their heads and avoiding eye contact. The man was big, heavy-set around the waist and jowls, and his eyes were hard and narrowed as he caught sight of Percy staring at him.

Percy dropped his eyes and was about to step out of the room when the stable master pointed at him with the crop, freezing him in his tracks. Percy kept his head down and curled his hands to fists at his sides, wanting nothing more than to run out of the room and find Edward. Where was his prince?

“The master will be most displeased to learn you were in here, girls,” the stable master warned, his voice scratchy, as if he spent more time screaming than actually talking. “He had the prince leave his breeder in here so he could sleep undisturbed. Return to the harem quarters. Now.”

The girls scrambled to their feet, filing past Percy on their way out of the room. They were gone in a flash of shiny hair and pristine skin, leaving Percy alone with the stable master. He could see the big man approach, his house-shoes coming in view of Percy’s downturned eyes.

“I shall have to inform your master of your trespass, breeder. Touching Master Lucius’ property is against the rules. Sex without permission is worth a beating or two. Does he whip you or use a flogger?” The stable master may be asking, but Percy was too mad to speak. How dare this man think he was willing! He had no control over his body, and the response was automatic. He wanted no part of the female slaves at all, and they were the ones to accost him!

Percy glared at the man in front of him, lifting his head and meeting his gaze full on. “My name is Perseus, and my prince does not beat me. They touched me, and I told them to stop.”

Anger swirled in the stable master’s eyes, and he tightened his grip on the golden crop, making the leather creak. “Such insolence! Have you forgotten your place, slave? That collar about your neck doesn’t make you less of a breeder or the prince’s property! There are plenty of places I can punish you that would spare the heir.” The stable master raised the crop, fast as snake, and brought it down just as quick.

Percy saw it coming, and in the first time in his whole life, dodged the punishment handed out by a stable master. The blow, meant for his upper chest, glanced off his left arm instead. It hit with a bolt of pain that made him gasp, but he kept moving. His arm went numb and tingled horribly, but he kept moving.

“You brat! I’ll beat you bloody! I’ll beat you so hard you drop that mongrel early!”

Percy ran, his bare feet finding plenty of purchase in the soft, luxurious rugs that covered the stone floor. He left the small sitting room, and found himself in a hall not far from the first room where they’d met Lord Lucius. Percy darted out of the way of the charging stable master as he barreled out of the room behind him, forcing Percy deeper into the house.

“Edward!” Percy shrieked as he ran, his cry bouncing off the white stone walls. The stable master was a couple strides behind him and closing fast. “Edward!”

There was a room just ahead, and he could hear men talking, their voices alarmed as they heard him screaming. “Edward!” he called again, weaker this time, his body still not used to running. He was fit, but lacked stamina, and his pregnancy left him alternating between exhaustion and cranky. If he didn’t make it to Edward now the stable master would have him. Percy didn’t doubt for a second that he was facing a horrible beating if the stable master caught him. His babe would not survive, not this early in his pregnancy.

Fear spurred him on faster, heart beating hard in his chest, lungs burning.

The stable master reached out for him with an angry shout just as Percy cleared the doorway. He saw Edward and ran full-out to his master, who caught him and spun him away from the stable master’s grasping hand. Edward swung Percy into Reynard’s arms, who caught Percy just in time for Edward to throw a nasty right hook directly to the stable master’s jaw. The other man’s momentum made him fly into Edward’s fist, and the stable master slammed back first to the hard floor, head hitting with a thwacking sound so loud it made Percy flinch.

The stable master groaned in pain, but he was a big man and he shook it off, rolling to his side and then to his knees. Edward stepped forward and landed his booted foot directly in the other man’s sternum, knocking him flat again.

Percy slipped out of Reynard’s arms, and ran to Edward’s side. His prince pulled him close, grabbing Percy’s upper arms, concerned eyes sweeping over him. Percy knew he looked a sight; hair disheveled, shirt open and revealing his upper torso, and he was sweating from exertion. Edward’s hand hit the spot on his arm where the crop hit him, and Percy winced, gasping in pain. Edward shot him a look, and lifted Percy’s arm, revealing where the crop tore through the fine material of his sleeve and raised a thick welt on his upper arm. Blood beaded along the center of the welt, smearing as the cloth moved over it.

The rage that welled up in Edward’s eyes was terrifying. Percy knew Edward had a temper, but he fought so hard not to let it escape him. The last time Percy had seen anger of this magnitude it was after the two footmen in employ of Heritage had insulted Percy in Edward’s private quarters at Hartgrove. Edward barely let those two men live, and all they had done at the time was insult Percy.

Edward stripped Percy of his shirt, dropping it to the floor. He turned Percy so that the injury could be seen better, and the sounds that came from both Reynard and Mason, who was sitting nearby at a computer, made Percy flinch. Reynard moved to the stable master, but Mason jumped between them and grabbed the captain and held him back, whispering in his ear.

Edward gently, with extreme care, set Percy aside, out of the way. The stable master was getting to his feet again, and was reaching for the golden crop on the floor at his feet when Edward picked it up first. Edward let the stable master regain his feet, and he stood there, a belligerent and unrepentant expression twisting his face.

“Explain yourself, now.”

The stable master glared at Edward, who was casually running his hands over the golden crop, testing the spring in its bend. “The breeder spoke out of turn. I punished him. I caught him cavorting with the master’s slave girls. They had their hands and mouths on him, and he was enjoying it. Sex is not allowed unless the master gives permission.”

“They accosted me, Edward, when I woke up,” Percy said softly, refusing to let this nasty man pollute Edward’s opinion of him. “I told them no, but my body…it did as it’s meant to, and the slave girls were wrongly encouraged. I got away from them. The stable master came in and accused me. I corrected him. He struck me with the crop. I ran, and he threatened to...he threatened to beat me ‘til I lost my babe.”

“I believe you, little one,” Edward reassured him, still holding the crop in his hands. He faced the stable master, who glared at Percy over Edward’s shoulder.

“The punishment for assaulting a royal consort is death,” Edward said, so very calm that it was even scarier than if he was screaming with rage. “You struck my mate, who is pregnant with my child. You then threatened the life of my babe. Twice then, that you earned death.”

The stable master’s face mottled with red and white splotches, anger, disbelief and some confusion marking his unpleasant features.

“Lord Lucius!” Edward called out, and the stable master tensed. He tried backing away, but suddenly Mason and Reynard were at his back, taking both his arms and forcing him to his knees. He was a big man, but both the prince and the captain held him fast.

“I’m here, my prince,” Lord Lucius said from the far corner of the room, stepping away from another desk, this one full of computers as well, dozens of screens flashing with images. Lord Lucius came to Edward’s side, and sent his gray gaze over Percy’s arm. The blood was running freely now down to his elbow, and Percy’s whole arm was throbbing, adrenaline wearing off, and he felt like he was going to be ill.

“He assaulted my consort, the bearer of my heir. He dies, by your hand or mine,” Edward stated, and the stable master roared in anger, struggling against Reynard and Mason.

“I agree,” Lord Lucius said calmly, “He won’t see the dawn. I have texted my guards. Gentlemen, would you mind restraining my former employee until my men detain him?”

Mason grinned, and a knee came flying up, cracking across the back of the stable master’s head. The man shouted and struggled, but both Mason and Reynard held him still. “Our pleasure. They can take their time.”

Edward handed Lord Lucius the crop, who took it with a raised brow and a shake of his head. Edward came to Percy, and picked him up, carrying him to the fireplace, setting him in a chair. Percy could hear the stable master struggling, cursing as men in dark uniforms entered the room and took him away.

Edward’s big hands gently cupped his arm, turning it so he could see the wound. Percy cried out, biting his lip, and blood dripped from his elbow, hitting the crushed blue velvet of the armchair he was in, beading. Percy started to breathe fast, feeling like he was suffocating, and he shook all over.

“Breathe, little one,” Edward chided, as Percy stared at the blood, transfixed, even as his stomach fought to revolt. He really disliked blood. “Slow down, and in and out. Relax, you’re safe now.”

“It hurts,” Percy whispered, wiping his face on his shoulder, Edward holding his left arm up and away from his body, blood dripping.

“I know, Percy. Reynard is right here, he has a first aid kit. Just breathe, and hold still, okay?”

“Okay,” Percy said, and he looked away as Reynard joined Edward, the two men tending to his arm. He looked up as Mason came up to his right side, and sat on the arm of the chair. He was too big to do that, and Percy ended up with his face buried in Mason’s hip, the older blood prince’s hand carding through his hair.

Mason pet him, and Percy went limp, sniffling, and he gasped as his wound was wiped down, and something with harsh scent and a horrible burn was blotted over it. Mason tugged and pulled on his hair, distracting him, and Percy unashamedly cuddled with his master’s brother, seeking comfort. Percy found himself picked up, and Mason sat down in the seat, and Mason settled him on his lap. Edward gave his brother a frown, but didn’t say anything, and Percy cuddled as Mason wrapped him in a secure embrace.

Reynard cleaned the welt again, and then smoothed a salve over it. Percy could barely feel his arm below the welt, the pain was throbbing and his arm tingled. It was already bruising around the welt, dark purples and black building under his skin, and the white cotton bandage grew a red line through it as it absorbed more blood.

“Should we stitch it?” Edward asked Reynard, eyeing the bloodstain as Reynard wrapped Percy’s arm.

“No, not with an injury like that. It’s less a cut than it appears. Stitching won’t stop the bleeding. It’ll stop bleeding once Percy is settled down and he can rest.”

“Always so exciting when you’re around, little mouse,” Mason said to him, and Percy looked up with a glare as Edward made sure his arm was clean.

“I’m not a mouse,” Percy said, and Mason gave him a wide grin.

“A kitten then, with tiny claws and sharp teeth,” Mason said, and Percy all but passed out when Mason cuddled him in closer, kissing his brow. Percy felt a hand on his belly, and looked down to see Mason’s hand petting his baby bump. Where having anyone but Edward touch him there bothered him, Mason’s hand was warm and gentle, and he sighed.

“Are you alright with Mason, little one? I need to talk to Lord Lucius about what happened. I can stay if you need me to,” Edward asked him. Percy knew that ‘talking’ was not what was going to happen. Someone was about to die.

“I’ll be fine,” Percy said quietly, pulling his arm to his chest and curling up now that they were done. “I’m sorry I caused trouble.”

“You did no such thing, my mate,” Edward said sternly, leaning down and kissing him. Percy kissed Edward back, and his mate pulled away after a moment with a sigh and a frown. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Percy said, and Edward backed away from the chair, obviously reluctant to leave him, even with his brother. Percy gave him a small smile, and rested his head on Mason’s chest. Edward sent a look at Mason, and Percy could feel Mason’s chest shake with a soft chuckle.

Edward left, sending Percy another glance, Lord Lucius leaving with him. Percy refused to think about why they were leaving, or what was about to happen. He just couldn’t think. His arm hurt so badly he wanted to sob, and he was tired. He drooped, spent and hurting.

All he wanted was a safe place. To just be safe, and be still, and settle. To rest and wait, and find the time to think about what his baby was going to look like. Boy or girl? With the Cassian coloration with dark, thick black hair and almost black eyes? Would any part of Percy go to his baby, or would the child be wholly Edward’s, as was Percy’s design?

A flutter came on the heels of that thought. Percy smiled, and closed his eyes. Mason’s hand was still on his belly, and he felt it, too. His child stretched, and the movement, while still small, was significant.