Soul Catcher (6 page)

“Shhh,” he whispered as he caressed her shoulder with his other hand. “You don’t have to be brave all the time.”

His words hit home and she cried harder. She heaved with sobs that were broken and shallow. The intensity of her emotions startled him. It sounded like it was the first time she had ever grieved. He suspected the source of her tears wasn’t the pain itself but the memory of her imprisonment, which flooded her mind now that she was safe.

Aleco applied the medicine across her back, arms, legs, and all the areas he could access without removing her gown. He whispered words of encouragement as he applied pressure, gently rubbing her back as he did so.

“I don’t understand you,” she whispered through her tears. “Which is it? Are you an asshole or are you not?”

“Not an asshole.” Aleco laughed. “For now, at least. Ask me again tomorrow.”

She laughed at his words.

Aleco finished the application of medicine and tossed the linen back into the pot. He looked at the severity of her injuries and noted the deep purple color and large size of her bruises. Anger swelled inside of him. “What did they do to you?”

“Everything you can think of,” she whispered as she put the top half of her dress on.

“Why?”

She tucked her hair behind her ear and wiped the last of her tears away. “They wanted to teach me a lesson in disobedience.” She stood up and began to put her supplies away.

Aleco got up and helped her.  “What was your crime?”

“I failed to please my master,” she said.

“You’re a slave?” Aleco asked in surprise.

Accacia nodded.

“It is very unusual to put so much effort in imprisoning a slave, rather than killing them, and it is also rare to chase them across the continent.” Aleco voiced his thoughts.

“Well, I am very important to my owner,” she explained.

“Who is he?”

“Lord Drake is my master.”

Aleutian Keep, Letumian Province

9

“What do you mean she’s
gone
,” he yelled. Lord Drake slammed his fists against his wooden desk. It trembled against the force.

“How could she
possibly
escape?”

He grasped his glass of Aleutian wine and threw it across the room, shattering the cup into tiny fragments against the fireplace mantle. The escaped wine droplets kissed the floor and caused the fire to hiss in response.

“She is one woman. How could she flee?” He clinched his hair and screamed. Lord Letumian walked across the room, gripped the commander around the throat, constricting his windpipe, and watched the soldier’s face turn purple as he tried to wrestle free.

He released his hold. “Return her to me,” he hissed. “Or next time I won’t let go.” Drake pushed him to the ground and kicked his ribs with his heavy boot. The prone soldier moaned in response. He approached the remaining soldiers standing before him, all of
whom wore faces of fear.

He closed his crystal blue eyes, sighed heavily, and reopened them. His demeanor changed from savage rage to determined vengeance. He stood tall over his inferiors and squared his shoulders before he spoke, his controlled words coming out slowly.

“Will someone tell me
what
happened?”

The soldiers remained quiet and looked to one another. They prayed someone in their cavalry had the answer. Finally, a brave soldier spoke.

“We don’t know who stole her from the Prisoner’s Circle, m’ lord,” he said. “He took her from the keep and slipped her outside of the city. We searched for Miss Accacia everywhere but we couldn’t find her.”

“You don’t know
who
it was?” he asked.

“No, he always conceals his face from sight,” added another soldier. “We believe it is the same man who attempted to enter the keep weeks ago. He fits the description.”

Drake’s handsome face remained stoic as he listened to their words. He crossed his arms across his muscled chest. “Describe his blade,” he instructed.

The men looked at each other and hoped someone in their unit knew the description. “One man, spared by the perpetrator, stated his sword was solid black, like a piece of obsidian.”

Lord Drake nodded to himself and rubbed his lips together. “I killed the man who snuck into the palace a few weeks ago. It cannot be the same man. This is someone else. Do you have any further descriptions?”

“No,” the soldier responded.

“We will travel to Orgoom Forest,” the duke said. “I suspect she will head there. I want every soldier, in every province, to search for her.” He walked to his desk and sat in his high backed chair, blending in with the dim lighting of the room. “We will find her,” he announced. “We leave in the morning.” The soldiers exited the study and closed the door behind them, leaving the duke alone with his thoughts.

Accacia belonged to him. The idea that she tried to escape was almost amusing since she knew he would find her—eventually. Drake hoped it wouldn’t be too long before he located her; his happiness depended on it.

He stared at the fire as his mind reminisced to their past encounters, all the countless times he ravaged her innocence, stealing her virtue; and how he enjoyed every moment of it. She fought back, screamed, and tried to kick him off, but that only aroused him even more. When he pressed his heavy body on top of her tiny frame and pinned her arms to her sides, he enjoyed her loud screams as he continually thrust himself inside of her. His desire for her never faltered, even through all the years he kept her in captivity. He retained a monogamous relationship with her since no other woman could fulfill his needs as she did.

Drake could feel the heat in his groin when he reflected
on the past. When he spotted her in Orgoom Forest years ago, tilling the earth and pampering the plants under the warm sunlight, he knew he would have her. She looked exquisite in her tight clothing and cascading hair as she smiled in the fields and enjoyed the beautiful spring day. Against Father Giloth’s protests, he whisked her away from her home and forced her to become his primary courtesan.

For the first few weeks, all she did was cry. The duke became so annoyed, he beat her senseless and demanded she never make that irritating sound in his presence ever again—she never did.

At first, he locked her up in her bedroom, only coming in to have his way with her, but Drake became frustrated traveling back and forth so he forced her to share his bedroom. She slept alongside him every night, and he wrapped his arms around her until morning. When he awoke, he would take her roughly before beginning his day.

The screaming and kicking eventually stopped and was replaced by indifference. He would press his body on top of her, and she would lay there, unresponsive. He would thrust inside of her repeatedly and she would look away, her mind somewhere else.

Drake, infuriated by her behavior, devised a plan to manipulate her and bend her to his will. They were having breakfast on the terrace, as they did every morning, when the duke’s soldiers brought in a frightened boy.

Accacia spotted his trembling movements and outstretched her hands to him. He ran into her arms and hugged her. Accacia ran her hands through his hair and whispered encouragement into his ear. She turned to Lord Drake. “What is he doing here, Drake?’ she asked.

The duke continued to eat, his eyes focused on his plate. “I am going to kill him, of course.” He drained his glass of juice.

She turned away from the boy. “Why?” she demanded. “He is just a child.”

“I am aware of that.” He smiled.

The boy began to cry and Accacia returned to him. “What has he done?” she yelled.

Drake swallowed his eggs and wiped his lips with a napkin before he spoke. “He has done nothing, Accacia.” He leaned back in his chair. “You are the one who is misbehaving. Unfortunately, he will be the one to receive the punishment. Very sad, isn’t it? To know the boy will be executed because of your doing.”

“Kill me instead,” she said.

The smile disappeared from his lips and his crystal blue eyes faded to gray. “That isn’t how it works, Accacia.”

“Then what do you want?” she snapped.

He rose from his chair and walked over to Accacia. He pulled the child from her grasp and placed his hand on his shoulder. The child whimpered at his touch. “Do as I say, and I will let this young fellow go,” he explained. “It’s that simple.”

Accacia stared at the child and saw the tears pour down his cheeks. Her heart ached. “What is it?” she asked.

Drake nodded to the guards, dismissing them from his presence. They closed the door behind them. He stared at Accacia’s beautiful face and hoped his deviant plan was going to work. “When I take you, you will respond with enthusiasm. You’ll desire me the way I desire you, by gripping my back, pulling me into you, and meeting my hunger thrust for thrust,” he said as he stared at her body. “You will kiss me with vigor and moan happily at my touch. You will scream my name and beg me not to stop,” he said. “You will initiate intercourse, ride me vigorously, and reach a state of euphoria alongside me. At any time you deviate from this agreement, I will kill the first child I see on the street, and force you to witness it.” The duke pulled the sobbing child closer to him. “Do we have a deal?”

Accacia let her gaze fall from the duke’s beaming face to the frightened child. It was one thing to be raped against her will, but to force her to act as if she enjoyed it was more difficult to bear. Lord Drake approached her, his handsome face almost touching hers. His eyes lingered on her wet lips and she could
feel his breath upon her face. He waited for her decision.

She closed her eyes and calmed herself, steadying her heartbeat to a slow cadence. Emotion fled her body and was replaced by the task before her. When she opened her eyes, she saw his expectant gaze appraise her features. She reached up and placed her slender hands upon his chest, and then glided them to the back of his neck, pulling his face to hers. She kissed him deeply.

She gently massaged his lips with her own, sucking his bottom lip, and then slipped her small tongue into his mouth, where she met his own.

He moaned into her mouth as he relished the feel of her willing touch. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tight against his strong physique and ran his hand through the silky strands of dark hair he adored.

“Make love to me,” she whispered.

He groaned in
response.The sex was exactly what he wanted, but as soon he pulled out of her, she returned to her state of loathing and hatred. He watched her sleep, kissed her forehead, and held her hand during their meals. She didn’t object nor did she reciprocate.  The duke had been content with this relationship for a long time, but the more time he spent with her, slept with her, looked at her, his feelings began to develop into something more. Lord Drake was in love.

He knew she didn’t feel the same, however. Despite his wealth, connections, handsome features, and his ability to make her climax, which he knew she did, she still hated him. The duke wanted her to feel the same way he did, even if she wasn’t being truthful, so he threatened her again.

“I want you to love me, Accacia,” he told her. “To touch me lovingly, kiss me tenderly, and tell me that you love me and no one else. That you cannot live without me and would rather die than be apart from me. I want you to give me your heart.”

Accacia refused him. “You cannot ask this of me,” she said. “I can be what you want sometimes, but not
always
. Everything between us would be a complete lie. You can force me to
pretend
to love you, but I
never
will. You are wasting your time.”

Her rejection stung. He sent her to the Prisoner’s Circle to be tortured and beaten until she changed her mind. Surely, loving him cannot be worse than such pain, he reasoned. He told her she could return and accommodate his request when she was ready. She was there for an agonizing three months before she was stolen from him.

The duke and his army entered the secluded realm of Orgoom Forest the following afternoon. The Naturalists all stared as he passed, recognizing him immediately. They made no comment as Lord Drake and his men trampled the flowers and grass of their holy place, destroying the life below their feet with the heavy footfalls of their brute horses.

His only response to their glares was a smile. When one of the Naturalists approached him to greet his army to their beloved forest, Drake spat directly into his face and continued on. “I am here to see the Chief Nature Priest, not a pathetic servant,” he said. “You have no business speaking to me.”

The soldiers that followed behind laughed and followed his example.

“Your highness,” Father Giloth said as he approached them. “I do not condone this behavior upon my colleagues, and more importantly, my friends. If you continue this erratic decorum, I will force you to leave these woods until you have learned your manners.” The old man stopped directly before the duke’s horse. “It is better to acquire these skills now, rather than later, for I am sure you will offend quite a few people, especially in your line of work, m’ lord.”

The duke laughed. “You have no such power, old man.”

“Do you question my sincerity?” Father Giloth threatened.

Drake knew the specific conditions of Father Giloth’s impressive powers. As a Nature Priest, he was endowed with the ability to manipulate the land, elements, and even creatures. He
could only retain these useful talents as long as his words were honest—he could not tell a lie. According to the scrolls, by practicing a virtuous life of truthfulness, he is in accordance with the balance of nature. Nature is truth, therefore, he is nature. The Nature God endowed the powers and abilities of the Chief Nature Priest to protect the forest and the souls of the land, humans and animals alike. Father Giloth had the aid of the gods under his force.

The duke was startled by his clear threat to dismiss one of the most prevalent sovereigns of the Continent, but he could not doubt the facts—he only spoke the truth. “I’ll play nice.” He smiled with his lips, but not his eyes. He couldn’t afford to lose the respect of the soldiers he commanded.

“Thank you.” Father Giloth smiled in return. “Now, how may I assist you? What warrants such an unexpected visit?”

The duke’s attitude changed as soon as he thought of his prized possession. “I am here to reclaim a personal belonging—Accacia.”

“I was unaware that a human could ‘belong’ to another,” the Nature Priest said.

“Ask Accacia to explain it to you.” Drake smirked. “I’m certain she could clarify it for you.”

Father Giloth’s smile evaporated. “Well, she is not here, your highness,” he said coldly. “I am sorry you have wasted your time.”

“Did she pass through your woods?” he asked.

Father Giloth stared at him. The direct question had him cornered.

“Well?” Drake pressed. “Did she come this way? Answer me.”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Where is she?”

“I am clueless as to her whereabouts,” he replied truthfully.