Torn (3 page)

“Do what they want tomorrow,” she said through clenched teeth. “That’s all I came here to tell you.”

He loosened his hold so she could slip away. Cursing herself for acting like a fool, she slid her hand down the sinewy length of his arm as she drew back. His skin felt warm, the muscles beneath hard.

She walked to her chamber and fell into uneasy sleep.

* * * * *

Honey Wine’s eyes flickered open and she stared at the wall from where she lay on her side in bed. Shadows from a low burning candle danced across the room, and she sighed.

Suddenly she became aware of movement beside her. Heart pounding, she rolled over and found herself staring into
his
eyes.

He spoke with his eyes. Lust. Desire. Tenderness. One of his large, graceful hands lifted to stroke her cheek. It felt warm, rough, and gentle at the same time. Honey Wine took it in her own and kissed his palm. She ran her tongue over the calluses and nipped the tips of his long fingers. She licked between each finger and kissed the back of his hand, feeling the few sparse dark hairs close to his wrist tickle her lips.

Unable to resist her own desires, Honey Wine sat up, hands pressed to his chest as he settled onto his back. His eyes studied her carefully as she straddled him, her fingers gripping the hard muscles of his chest. She splayed her palms over his pectorals and swept down his ribs before she bent to kiss his breastbone. Honey Wine’s lips trailed lower, to his belly. She dipped her tongue into his navel and felt his abdomen clench and quiver. One of her hands grasped his balls while the other curled around his stiff cock and guided it into her mouth. She tasted the head and ran her tongue along the underside.

His breathing quickened, matching her own. Heart pounding in her chest, she knelt over his hips and guided him inside her heated pussy. The prisoner’s big hands clasped her waist, and his hips thrust upward as she bounced atop him, hands clutching his biceps as she raced towards a mind-shattering climax.

When Honey Wine opened her eyes, she found herself in a large chamber in the upper palace, lit only by a fire burning in the hearth across the room.

The prisoner stood in front of the fire. Flames cast dancing shadows on his tall, chiseled body. Honey Wine’s heartbeat quickened. The man was absolutely magnificent. She stared, unable to move, as he turned sideways, his long, thick cock resting in his hand. His fist curved around the steely flesh and stroked.

When she managed to tear her gaze from the carnal sight of his self-arousal, she found his dark blue eyes burning into hers.

Honey Wine rose as if summoned, allowing the sheet to fall from her naked body as she walked towards him. She felt the heat of the flames as well as the warmth of his body as he drew her into his arms, his cock pressed between them.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” she asked him, running her hands over his chest, feeling the muscles ripple as he reached down to clasp her buttocks. He lifted her off the ground, his eyes intent on hers, communicating with her through his look alone.

Placing her on a stool by the wall next to the fireplace, he pressed her to the wall, thrusting his cock into her pussy. Honey Wine clung to him, his body hot against hers, his muscles so steely and his breath a warm rasp in her ear.

* * * * *

Again Honey Wine awoke quivering and drenched in sweat. As she stood, pulling on her robe, she realized the night had actually grown warm. Still, there was no excuse for the wetness of her pussy and the slow ebbing of the intense orgasm caused by yet another dream of
him
.

What was going to happen to him tomorrow? Would he take her advice and perform as was expected of a beast, or would he risk his life to uphold the vows of his Order?

Honey Wine knew she wouldn’t fall back to sleep soon, so she slipped on her boots and stepped into the hallway. She heard laughter from the opposite end of the prison and moved toward it. A group of guards were gathered around the door of the breeding pens, where favored beasts were made to mate with servant women chosen by the Mistress. It had been her sister’s plan to begin a new breed of beast, one that ensured constant wins at the Entertainment. She believed if she bred the strongest and most attractive beasts and women and raised them like animals from birth she could accomplish this. The entire situation sickened Honey Wine who, at great risk to herself, had been supplying most of the women with herbs that would ensure no child would be conceived by them. If her sister ever found out, Honey Wine knew she would most likely be executed, but to her it was worth the risk.

There were two mating pens. A private one for the shyer beasts, and an open one, used for the guards’ entertainment as much as for the mating. The guards were gathered around the open one. Honey Wine could see a tall, chestnut-haired girl from the palace wrapped in the arms of a tall, blond beast with a thickly muscled form, scarred from past battles. Honey Wine recognized the girl as a volunteer – one who actually liked the idea of bedding the beasts.

Some women were attracted to their hulking forms and animal lust. Until she’d set eyes on the Knight, Honey Wine hadn’t understood their interest.

The young woman had dropped to her knees in front of the beast, her hands clutching his large, tight ass while she sucked and licked his straining cock. The beast clutched the bars of the pen, his eyes closed, and head thrown back as his chest heaved. He growled his passion until Honey Wine thought he’d come without even entering the woman. She almost wished he would and avoid the chance of conception.

Suddenly he grasped the woman by the shoulders and pushed her onto the straw scattered on the bottom of the pen. She raised herself onto her elbows, watching him with gleaming eyes, but fell back hard when he shoved her legs apart and buried his face between them.

The woman moaned, head arched backward, the veins and tendons standing out beneath her pale skin as he lapped and sucked her clit while he slid several fingers into her pussy.

The guards laughed and cheered when the beast mounted her and thrust like an enormous, pale-skinned bull.

Shaking her head, Honey Wine turned back down the hall, only to find herself staring at Bron.

The guard grinned. “The sight of those two got you wet? Want some satisfaction?” He clutched his groin and gave himself a few pumps.

Honey Wine’s lips curled in disgust as she shoved her way past him and returned to her chamber.

* * * * *

In the morning, five selected prisoners walked, in chains, out of the corridor. The Knight was among them. Honey Wine stood by the well, her fingers biting into the rock rim as she exchanged glances with him. Her heart pounded as if she was the one going to the Entertainment instead of him.

When did I stop hating him?

“Get moving, you lazy beasts!” Bron ordered, cracking his whip at their heels as several guards guided the prisoners down the corridor.

Honey Wine strained to listen until the clattering of their chains faded and finally stopped.

That day, concentrating on her work proved difficult. She wondered which of the beasts would be brought back wounded, and which would not return at all. It depended on the mood of the onlookers whether or not the losers lived, providing the winning beast wasn’t so excited by the blood lust that he killed his opponent without waiting for a signal.

When the time came, would the Knight heed her advice, or would he sacrifice his life for the beliefs the Ruby Order had instilled in him? She didn’t doubt he could become her sister’s finest champion if he relied on the warrior instinct that enabled him to put down the beasts in the pit each time bait was tossed in.

But it’s the bait he’s fighting for, not himself.

Ignoring the unfamiliar weight of sadness in her breast, she told herself he would not be returning, and it would be better for her if he died. She was becoming too fond of him, and she could no more rescue him from his fate than she could save a hog from slaughter.

At midday, Honey Wine sat in her chamber, twirling her spoon in a bowl of stew but lacking the enthusiasm to eat it. Her stomach felt strange, like a hummingbird was trapped inside, beating its wings furiously to get out.

Outside, Bron bellowed orders and chains clinked. The prisoners were returning, no doubt with wounds that needed tending.

Honey Wine opened her door a crack and peered out, her gaze riveting to the Knight chained between two of the beasts. So three of them had survived and two had been forfeited to The Mistress’s bloody desires. The faces of men behind and in front of the Knight were bruised and bloody, and one of them staggered, clutching a dirty bandage swathing his hirsute chest. By the look of him, he’d need immediate attention. At first Honey Wine thought the Knight was untouched. Then she noticed one of his arms was bound with a blood-soaked cloth.

She stepped outside and hurried past them to the holding cells, calling for the other healer on duty to assist her.

Honey Wine moved toward the Knight’s cell, but Bron called to her, “You’re the most experienced on this shift. This beast needs your attention.” He nodded toward the man with the bandaged chest.

Cursing the truth of Bron’s words, she went to where she was most needed.

She felt the Knight’s gaze on her but refused to look at him. The idea that Bron or another guard might notice her growing fondness for him disturbed her.

She set to work on the beast, giving him an herbal drink to ease his pain. He tore the mug from her hand and gulped it, then lay back, groaning to himself as she cleaned and stitched the wound on his chest. A sword slash, she guessed. As part of the Entertainment, the beasts were allowed their choice of weapons.

“What happened up there today?” Honey Wine asked Timus softly as he watched from outside the cell.

“The one you’re working on won a match. The other lost, but was salvaged.

The Knight won three matches. He would have been the Mistress’s champion, except he refused to kill. She’s ordered him to be punished by The Lady.”

Honey Wine drew a sharp breath, willing her hands to remain steady as she stitched the beast. He’d fallen asleep with the aid of the potion, making her chore easier. The coming evening concerned her greatly. Punishment by The Lady would cause the Knight excruciating pain but wouldn’t do permanent or serious damage to his body. Honey Wine’s sister couldn’t afford tortures that might render a champion unable to fight. Some had died under The Lady’s hand, ones who had expired from fear and pain intolerance, but The Mistress only shrugged at those losses. They wouldn’t have been strong enough to last in the Entertainment.

The Knight was not a killer, but Honey Wine’s sister was determined to make him one. None of the beasts failed to do exactly what was expected of them after one meeting with The Lady.

Honey Wine finished with the beast, washed his blood from her hands, and moved to the Knight’s cell. Timus unlocked the door, and she stepped inside.

The Knight sat quietly while she unraveled the bloody bandage from his biceps. Some of the blood had dried into the bandage, and she tried to cause him as little discomfort as possible as she peeled the gory wrapping from his flesh.

“You should have done what she wanted,” Honey Wine whispered, refusing to look at his face. She couldn’t bear to meet those proud eyes, gaze at that adorable mouth, all the while knowing what he’d be facing that night. A horror worse than the Entertainment.

“You’re a fool, you know,” she continued. “Are you prepared to suffer tonight?”

She didn’t expect him to answer. After she’d stitched his arm and applied a clean bandage, she withdrew several leaves from her supply box. Pressing them into his hand, she whispered, “Eat this. It’ll dull the pain when you meet The Lady.”

Instead of keeping the leaves, he dropped them back into the box.

“Take them, fool!” she hissed.

He motioned slightly toward Bron and Timus. So, he understood better than she thought. If he came before The Lady, drugged, The Mistress would realize it. She’d want to know who’d supplied him, and Honey Wine was the only healer who’d tended him. She’d known that risk when she’d given him the leaves, realized that her own punishment could be as mild as removing her privileges to visit above or as harsh as a visit to The Lady herself.

Now that she really considered the rashness of her action, Honey Wine trembled.

“Honey Wine! Are you done in there?” Bron called. “The Mistress wants you to administer to some of the guest’s beasts in the visitors’ cells.”

“I’m coming,” she shouted to him. She hesitated before closing the supply box, her gaze darting from the Knight to the leaves still within his reach. He stood and walked to the opposite end of the cell.

“If that’s how you want it, see if I care,” she muttered as she left him alone to ponder the coming evening.

* * * * *

That evening, Honey Wine cursed her own cowardice as she locked herself in her chamber so she wouldn’t have to watch the Knight being taken to his punishment.

However, she wouldn’t escape his suffering. Bron knocked on her door shortly after dusk.

A smile twisted his thick lips as he said, “The Mistress requests your presence above.”

“Why?”

“I’ve no idea. Most of us know better than to question The Mistress.”

Honey Wine would have replied, but how could she remark on his weakness when she’d hoped to spend the night cowering in her room while a truly brave man suffered above.

She reached for her wooden supply box, and Bron scoffed, “That’s foolish.

Nothing in that box can help him tonight.”

“I’m a healer now, remember? I feel comfortable carrying my tools just as I once carried weapons.”

“Once,” Bron sneered.

Honey Wine followed him down the corridor and up ten long flights of stone steps to The Lady’s work chamber.