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A Gift for the King Page 10
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“Please, leave me alone,” she cried out, her voice breaking in fear. She would give anything to be back with the Erassans far away from whatever this was. Surprising even herself, she decided even another dose of Dante’s belt would be preferable than the cold terror that seemed to be lying in wait for her.
A deep laugh sounded heavy in the air, so unexpected that it nearly flattened Lana to the ground with terror. Her limbs grew heavy, like some strange power was weighing her down.
Looking back, she tried to run faster, tried to escape this terrible thing, but ran straight into something hard and firm. Crying out as she fell to the ground, she pushed herself back up and gasped in fright.
A line of tall Erassan men in strange clothing stared at her. The man she had run into looked down at her fiercely, almost hungrily. Grabbing the hair at the back of her head, he twisted her around and forced her to stand tall, looking in the direction she had been running from.
Dread billowed up through her. The sun was beginning to rise and the sky was lightening. Her eyes, once used to the dead of night, adjusted quickly to take in a terrifying sight. A man stood in front of her, at least something like the shape of a man. Everything about him was jet black, like she was staring at a walking shadow. His eyes were a deep blood red as he gazed back at her. He stood well above her by at least two feet, and his body frame and muscles were equally as massive.
Lana trembled before him as she was held fast by the Erassan she had run into. Pain radiated through her skull as he pulled on her hair, but she hardly noticed, her focus solely on the shadow man. What did these monsters want with her?
She didn’t say a word. The shadow man walked up to her, and she held her breath in suspense. He grabbed her chin and she whimpered, his touch liquid ice. It was so cold she felt like her skin was burning.
Moving her face back and forth, the shadow man studied her. A terrifying smile broke out over his face, teeth white against the soul-crushing black of his skin, so dark that Lana swore that it was darker than jet fuel. A living shadow; rather, living fear.
“Let go of me, you monster!” she cried out, her voice unsteady and unable to stow away her fear.
The shadow man laughed heartily at her and grabbed her hand. Cold agony raced through her as she watched black lines etch over her skin, her veins turning the color of ink. Pain like she had never known before coursed up her arm, and tears fell from her eyes. The shadow man let go of her hand, and she watched it, shaking as her skin turned back to normal.
“What do you want,” she panted, her voice strained with the lingering pain of what he had done to her. The man holding her tightened his grip and she cried out at the tiny stabs of pain that drilled into her skull.
The shadow man pointed straight at her before he brought his fingers to her throat. She felt Dante’s collar fall to the ground. A deep dread filled her.
She was completely unprotected.
He pushed aside a stray piece of fabric so that it fell off her right shoulder, exposing both her collarbone and the king’s tattoo. A strange sort of smile passed over his lips.
“You are the child of prophecy, the one destined to change our world.”
Lana stared at the man, completely bewildered. What could he possibly mean?
“Take her, and make sure she can’t escape. Our success relies on her capture, so that we may prevent the prophecy from taking away our chances of victory.”
Lana fought tooth and nail, but hands seemed to come from everywhere, grabbing her hands and arms, as well as her legs and feet. Before long, she was completely overpowered. There was nothing she could do to escape, as strong fingers clamped all over every inch of her skin. Still, she continued to try to fight as they ferreted her away in the early morning fog. Tears of desperation clouded her vision as she screamed out for Dante, Wes, Emma, and Tala, calling for their help, for their forgiveness, and most of all, their protection.
Chapter Seven
Dante spent the remainder of the day trying to appease Chief Tecumseh. He was angry and rightly so. His human slave population was disappearing, especially human women, and the Erassan people were worried about those of their own species who had been killed and left with black veins visible through their paled skin. The people of Eriborough were a suspicious lot, and wild rumors passed through the town with uninhabited abandon. Chief Tecumseh told him of the whispers of ghosts, evil beasts, and even devils wandering the woods.
Dante promised him that his people would be protected. At long last, with the king’s reassurance, Chief Tecumseh informed him of the other happenings in the south, the whispers of a leader with terrible powers; whispers of the reemergence of one of the terrors of the past. Rumors that a Soul Eater walked the Earth once again were spreading in the dark corners of Eriborough and the towns surrounding it.
This was alarming news. A Soul Eater was an ancient power that was developed long ago during times of constant feud. The first Soul Eater was made during one of the first major wars on Terranovum, as a way for D’Lormere to interrogate war prisoners captured in battle. The power of a Soul Eater was terrifying, and not to be underestimated. A man who was given those powers could use them to enter another’s mind, shift through memories, attain answers, and worst of all, once he was in that person’s mind, that power never left. The Soul Eaters fed off that pain and the terror in their victims’ heads. War prisoners always went mad, living with the constant, agonizing pain of a Soul Eater in their minds for the rest of their lives, until they eventually committed suicide.
He had been told that the Soul Eaters died off long ago, along with the technology that created these monsters. Finding it difficult to believe that a Soul Eater was alive and well again, he listened to the information without a word.
“If the rumors are true, my king, I am afraid for our people. A monster like that needs to be stopped, once and for all.”
“Chief Tecumseh, I’m sure these are just rumors, whispers to explain the strange happenings here in town. Once we figure out what is causing these Erassan deaths and human disappearances, I will make it my personal mission to solve this mystery for my people.”
“I’m sure you will, my king.”
With that, Chief Tecumseh bowed and took his leave. It was growing later in the day, and it was time to retire for the evening meal. Tomorrow, Dante would investigate the bodies of the Erassans who were killed, and see if Tala could scent anything on them. Then they would search the woods, to see if they could find clues, or better yet, a trail to whomever was doing these strange deeds.
Dante walked back to the carriage, changing course with the thoughts in his mind. He thought of the gorgeous beauty who was waiting for him within the carriage. Her soft chestnut hair, beautiful eyes, and sumptuous lips all complemented her luscious creamy skin. Imagining her body lying over his knees, her bottom pale and waiting for him to spank, was a heady thought that left him reeling. He felt himself harden at the visual image.
Thus far, she had been delightfully submissive. He was still floored that she had relaxed herself around him and listened to her body, asking him to spank her for the first time, even if she hadn’t meant to. The way her body had responded to his domination had been so beautiful, so sensual, and most of all, dangerously addictive. Her body wanted to submit to him. The only thing that would be even more intoxicating would be when her mind completely submitted to him as well.
He wanted to worship her body and fully claim her as his. He wanted to lay her down on the bed, part her legs, and make her quiver with need for him. After this trying day of political relations and making others happy with promises of protection, he wanted nothing more than to curl up with Lana and make her body sing with pleasure. All he wanted to do at that moment was kiss her lips, and trail his own lips over every inch of her body until she begged him to let her seek her release. Tonight, he would show her that he, and he alone, would master her body.
Climbing up the stairs, he opened the d
oor to the carriage and strode inside, ready to tell Wes and Emma to sleep elsewhere this night. He walked inside, only to find Emma sitting on the couch, her head in her hands and sobs wracking her shoulders.
“Emma, what’s wrong?” he asked, concern striking through his thoughts of Lana’s naked body. Alarm began to bubble up within him as he realized Lana wasn’t in the carriage with her, as she should have been. Emma raised her head and pushed locks of blond hair out of her face. Her soft eyes looked bloodshot. She must have been crying for a while. Seeing him now, her doe eyes widened in fear.
“Please don’t be angry with me.”
“Why would I be angry with you, Emma?”
“I tried to get her to come back here, I really tried!” she blurted out, before fresh tears began to slide down her face. Her bottom lip quivered and sobs shook her anew once again.
“Who, Emma? Who are you talking about?” he asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.
Emma tried to calm herself once again before continuing. Dante watched her, his concern growing by the moment.
“Lana, sir. I tried to get her to come with me after she left the carriage to find you. She wouldn’t come back. We were climbing up the stairs to return to the carriage and she turned away. I watched her run off into the woods, and she hasn’t been seen since.”
“Lana ran away into the woods?” Dante felt a cold sweat break out over his skin.
“Yes, sir. Please don’t hurt me. Don’t be angry with me. Please,” Emma whispered, fear gripping her face.
“How long ago?”
“I don’t know, it’s been hours. I thought she’d come back by now, but it’s beginning to grow dark. I’m so sorry. I’m so scared for her, out there alone in the woods in the dark by herself.”
Dante stood, anger billowing up through him, enveloping his growing panic. The woods were not a safe place. The enemy hid out there. She could be taken like the other humans here in Eriborough, to disappear and never be seen again. If that wasn’t terrible enough, strange and dangerous creatures lived deep within the forests she wandered into, beasts that even he was afraid of.
He looked down at Emma, and could feel the redness take over his eyes. Knowing he was a terrifying sight in this state, he didn’t care. His Lana was in danger. Emma shrank away and stared at him.
“You should have told me when she ran hours ago. Wes will punish you for that, and I promise you, your bottom will be sore for quite some time. You are extremely lucky it is our law that no Erassan male other than your owner may touch you. I would spank the living daylights out of you. If you were mine, I’d make you get your own switch from the trees outside and you would be completely naked when you did it.”
Emma dropped her eyes and stared at her hands, every muscle trembling from his directed anger at her.
“Yes, sir,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. Dante swiftly turned and left the carriage. He had to find Wes and Tala immediately. Anger, intermingled with fear, seethed through him, but he forced himself to spring into action. He stole away from the carriage into the camp.
After everything they had already been through, he could hardly believe she wanted to escape him. He had thought she was beginning to care for him, and he knew he was falling for her too. Imagining her smiling face once again, her soft giggles escaping her lips, and her moans of pleasure, a stark sadness ran through him. Did she not love him as well?
He roared out orders as he crossed their camp, and the royal guard sprang to action, not questioning his current mood. A small group of wolf riders came together and took off into the woods to see if they could track Lana’s scent.
Wes organized a larger search party, and ordered them to return if they found anything. Wolves, lions, and horses pounded off into the woods. The entire camp was in chaos.
Dante quickly found Tala and swung up onto her back. He yelled to Wes that he was returning to Eridell in order to fetch the realm’s protector and prized sorceress, Morgana. She was the human gifted with the most powerful magic, out of all those who were graced with the gift. Wes nodded, and Dante took off, Tala’s long limbs covering great stretches of land with a single bound. If they kept up that pace, it wouldn’t be long before he reached the capital and fetched his sorceress.
During the ride, he could think of nothing but the woman he loved alone in the woods, terrified about what was around the next bend. Even worse, he imagined her captured by whatever terror haunted the small town of Eriborough. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed that she would be safe; that soon, she would be back in his arms. Just wanting her back in his protection, he rode on through the night.
He thought about how he would punish her for running away. He would find her, make sure she was safe, and correct her for disobeying his command never to run from him. She would beg for him the next time she was in his arms, he was sure of it.
He reached Eridell in a matter of hours, and woke Morgana as she was sleeping in her bed. She didn’t mutter a single complaint, but dressed quickly for departure. She jumped up on Tala’s back and held onto Dante before he took off to return to camp.
Upon their return, the royal guard gave him a wide birth, following orders without a word. Dante was angry, and worried for the woman he found himself growing to love. He had to rescue her, no matter what, and no one would get in his way until she was returned to his arms.
Chapter Eight
Lana cried softly to herself, her hands bound behind her back, her feet tied together, effectively keeping her from running or escaping in any shape or form. The rope chafed against her skin, cutting into her circulation. She had been thrown into some sort of wooden cart, which had been rolling away from everyone she knew for hours. For all she could guess, she was miles away from Dante, never to see him again. Never to touch Tala’s soft fur, never to see Wes’ teasing smile or Emma’s quiet friendly gaze for the rest of her life.
Despair rolled through her body as she struggled vainly against her bonds. Nothing about this was all right. In all likelihood, she was being led to her death, in order to stop whatever confusing prophecy the shadow man referred to.
The only thing that kept her sane was thoughts of Dante, how much she missed him, his touch, his desire, his dominance, and most of all, the care and devotion he had given her. Now that she had run away from him into the deep woods, far away and straight into the hands of the enemy, did the gravity of her mistake begin to fully sink in and tears welled up in her eyes. Lying on her right side, her wrists bound by merciless rope, sobs wracked through her body.
If only Dante would hold her and tell her everything was going to be all right. She wanted to kiss him and tell him how much she regretted running from him, much she wanted him, and how much she loved him.
She loved him. She really did.
The realization came over her suddenly and she held it close to her heart. If she ever got the chance to see Dante again, she swore upon her life that she would tell him exactly how she felt. Never again would she ever run from him. She did everything to hold onto her love, as it was the only thing keeping her from going insane with hopelessness.
The journey continued for days, as the cart traveled deeper and deeper south. She was given water in a bowl and forced to lap it up like a dog, and some sort of disgusting slop was offered to her in the same way.
The trip ended about a week later, when they arrived in a dirty-looking city. All the buildings were thrown haphazardly together, with none of the finesse she had observed in Eridell. She could only guess she was deep in the kingdom of D’Lormere, leaving the kingdom of Legeari and Dante far behind. The Erassans that held her captive practically dragged her through the streets. What was left of her human slave outfit had long ago fallen apart, so that that now she was completely naked, but covered in dirt like an animal. Onlookers watched with little care, with barely a passing glance. She guessed that the brutal treatment of humans here must commonplace, and nothing to raise an eyebrow at.
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They forced her into a massive royal tent and left her lying on a carpet. It was soft in comparison to the wooden planks she had been sleeping on for days.
Exhaustion threatened to overtake her, but she forced her heavy eyes to stay open. Deeply fearful, she knew she was about to meet someone very important, and she had to stay vigilant on the off chance that she made it out of this alive.
She licked her dry lips, and pushed her weak body up off the floor so that she was in a kneeling position. Her muscles protested at this little bit of effort. Days of travel and mistreatment had taken their toll. She was incredibly frail, and she knew it. Pushing further, she forced her body to stand, before she took in her surroundings.
She could tell she was in the dwelling of someone very important. Gold coins were scattered everywhere. Opulent fabrics were draped all over, and luxurious furniture had been placed throughout the tent. Standing in the center, she released she was as naked as the day she was born. For the thousandth time, she wished she had just climbed into the metal carriage days ago, inside of running away straight to the enemy.
Hearing voices outside the tent, she looked around for something to protect herself, but found nothing. Quivering, she held her head high, telling herself that she was ready for whatever they threw at her next. Noticing the fabric moving at the entrance of the tent, she prepared herself, hoping she wouldn’t encounter something worse than the shadow man.
With a swish, a very large man entered the tent. He was shirtless, showcasing a very tan chest with muscles bigger than she had ever seen before, even when compared to Wes or Dante. His arms were huge, biceps bulging before her. As he stood tall, she gasped as his face came into view. Heavy gold jewelry lined his nose, and a gold chain connected to his ear, tracing up the entire length of it. It was impossible to count how many gold hoops studded through the cartilage of his ear. His head was completely shaved. Simple tan-colored pants hung loosely around his hips, and black shoes surrounded his feet. Parts of him reminded her of a human; portions of him made her think of an Erassan; and other things were completely foreign. Black tribal tattoos marked the overwhelming majority of his flesh, including the top of his head, casting an ominous glow about him, but that wasn’t the thing that Lana really focused on. That wasn’t what unnerved her to her very core.