In my dream, Ryder let me know that I no longer had to marry Adam. So now, I just had to figure out how to escape what destiny was throwing at me now. The Horde King. I smiled knowing he wouldn’t see it. Why, because I was still staring at his bare feet, which were my focal point at the moment.
“Stand up,” he ordered, bringing me out of my reverie. His voice was layered, and demanded to be heard. It slithered over my shoulders and wrapped around my spine.
I placed my hands firmly on the ground as I brought myself up to a standing position. I kept my eyes on his feet, because I knew he wanted submission. Everything in his posture and being screamed that he wanted me demure, and willing to bend to his will.
Even the blood oath he had me agree to screamed submission. Ryder had taught me how to submit. He’d made me boneless with the need to submit to him. I could do this, at least long enough to find a way out. Ryder said he would save me, and I believed him. I wasn’t sure he could save me from this, which meant, I had to do this on my own.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
I raised my eyes to meet his obsidian depths. The Horde King was beautiful, but often those things which are the most beautiful—are the deadliest. He was evil incarnate, and the stories I’d been told by my parents and my brother came rushing back as I met his eyes.
“You are mine,” he said softly, his eyes scanning my face as he said it. He was looking for hesitation, or uncertainty, which he would find, because I was terrified. I was also uncertain of my fate, and while I didn’t want to hesitate, I probably would.
“I am yours,” I repeated dutifully.
“Prove it,” he replied.
I blinked as what he wanted me to do sank into my brain. I stepped closer, until I was inches from his towering form. When I was close enough to him that I could touch the pulsating brands on his massive chest, his wide wing’s closed around us, hiding the view of our bodies from those around us. Instantly I was suffocating, and choking on his power as it surged through me, blocking off any chance of drawing breath. He was absolute power, and I felt it with every cell of my body.
“Ask me,” he growled softly, the vibration sending my skin to a shivering mess.
He was showing me his control, and that it was absolute. He wanted me to know how easily he could kill me, as if I needed a reminder. I lifted my eyes to his and moved even closer until I was pressed against his hard body.
I opened my mouth to ask for permission to breathe, but no words would come. He was preventing them, and his eyes sparkled with amusement at my discomfort.
“Kiss me,” he demanded.
I did, knowing that it would bring air, which was needed for me to draw a breath. Power was corrupting, and this was an example of why he was considered the strongest of the Fae. I stood on my tiptoes, and placed my hands carefully against his chest as my lungs burned with the need for oxygen.
His mouth wasn’t filled with stench, or dirty as one would expect from a member of the Horde. Instead, it was clean and minty, and the moment my lips touched his, I was once again able to draw breath—but only barely. I sent my tongue out, knowing instinctively that the deeper I went, the more air I would receive. His arms wrapped around me, crushing me to his body.
He growled against my mouth as his wings caressed my naked shoulders, softer than silk against my flesh. Air came easily as he encouraged the kiss. My hands felt his power as it sparked against the flesh of my palms. His brands even pulsed with it, and my own reacted to it by pulsing and throbbing in response. I moved to step away from him, but his hands lowered to my back and held me there, locked against him.
“I expect you to give me control, Sorcha. You will pleasure me only. You are a Transitioned Fae now. You look of it, and I can smell it on you. I won’t damage you, not when I can easily starve you of air, which will no longer kill you, but I promise it will not be pleasurable. Do you understand what I am saying?” He asked as his fingers crept up to touch the torque around my throat.
“If I don’t please you, I don’t breath.”
“Yes,” he replied as his hand wrapped around the back of my neck, sending a feeling of hopelessness down my spine. “You will feed me, and pleasure me as is my right. For the blood oath your parents violated, I will seek to punish you. Unlike what many think, you will like my punishments. I know a lot about punishments. There’s a fine line between pain and pleasure, and I promise to make you dance on the line between them if you fight me,” he whispered with a growl that sent shivers of fear racing down my spine.
I swallowed heavily as fear crept into my veins. “I had no control over what they did. I was only a child.”
His lips curved into a wicked smile that was at odds with the hard look in his eyes. He lowered his mouth and pressed his lips against my ear before whispering softly, “Hence, why you are still alive, little one. Had you participated in their plans to thwart me, I would have already killed you, Sorcha.”