Page 41

41

D aisy walked through the mountain’s corridors with Filak in silence, her heartbeat skipping erratically in her ears.

Filak hadn’t refused her request, and he hadn’t protested, either.

But Daisy could almost feel his grim unease, the silent shouting question in his eyes glancing toward her. But she wasn’t meeting it, or answering it, because he needed this. His people needed this.

And also… she was an artist, and she wanted to… learn. Wanted to see this, for herself.

So she kept walking, following Filak down into the Ka -esh wing. Around this corner, then that one, toward a vaguely familiar opening in the wall.

The dyflissa .

Daisy hesitated outside the door, darting Filak a searching look — why was he bringing her to the pleasure-room again? — but he nodded, and then hung up the lamp and their satchels beside the door, and waved her forward. And Daisy was seeing this, she was, so she took a breath, and stepped into the firelit room.

It was just as shocking as it had been the night before, full of orcs taking heated hungry pleasure together — and there seemed to be even more of them this time, too. That medic Eben again, with the same handsome dagger-haired orc, and Gareth again, now working over his lean gasping orc with a big wooden paddle in his hand. And wait, that was even Julian , sagging against a wall with his face buried in the crook of his arm, while a tall, unfamiliar orc grunted and pumped his hips behind him.

But Filak didn’t spare them even a glance, and he ushered Daisy past them, deeper into the room. Toward a tucked-away nook she hadn’t noticed before, where — she hesitated again — a tall, fully clothed orc had a pale, pretty woman kneeling before him. She was wearing only a gold collar, but attached to it was a long leash , its thick gold chain wrapped casually around the orc’s clawed hand. And as Daisy stared, the orc tugged the leash upwards, making the woman look at him, as his other hand slowly, deliberately opened his trousers. Revealing himself for her, showing her his long, scarred grey cock, wanting her to look at it, to beg for it…

And at the sound of the woman’s voice, the room screeched to stillness, because it was — Rosa . Yes , of course it was Rosa , and the orc was her stern, buttoned-up mate John - Ka . The Priest of the Ka -esh. Who was now coolly feeding his scarred cock into Rosa’s mouth, wrapping the chain tighter around his hand, using it to draw her closer…

Daisy truly could not look away, and for an instant, the Skyli utterly vanished from her thoughts. Replaced only by the bizarre, unspeakable urge to yank out her sketchbook, to draw this to keep, so she could look at it after for as long as she pleased.

She twitched at the feel of Filak’s hand, tickling at her back — and when she glanced up, he was eyeing her intently, his brows raised. And then he gave a questioning jerk of his head toward the bare wall behind him, which had multiple chains hanging against it.

Daisy’s groin convulsively clenched, but she took a shaky breath, and shook her head. This was important, damn it. He needed help, and she needed to give it. And still simmering alongside that, stubborn and strange, was that compulsive need to see it, to know, to learn.

Because — Filak had claimed Daisy as his mate, for these next two weeks. He’d given her that vow. He’d sworn to prove himself to her. He’d told her the Skyli was her home, too. And now, what would he do, if she displeased him? Disobeyed him? If she prodded at the places that hurt him the most? How dangerous would he be?

So Daisy raised her chin, and fought down the whisper of guilt, or maybe even fear — and then she strode straight over to Rosa and John - Ka , and waited until they’d both glanced toward her. John - Ka with distinct displeasure in his eyes, Rosa with her typical bright curiosity.

“Daisy!” Rosa exclaimed, once she’d drawn backwards enough to free her mouth, leaving John - Ka’s scarred cock bobbing and dripping before her face. “ What is it? Is everything all right?”

Daisy took another fortifying breath — Rosa was willingly on her knees, wearing a leash — and somehow managed a nod. And though she held her gaze on Rosa’s watching face, she could feel Filak’s full focus on her, his suspicion, his surely rising displeasure.

“You said to let you know if I needed anything,” Daisy said, in a rush. “ And we need your help. Both of us.”

Rosa’s brows snapped up, her eyes darting curiously toward Filak’s face. To where he was looking highly forbidding now, folding his arms across his chest, and angling Daisy a narrow, disbelieving look.

But he didn’t interrupt, so Daisy took another shaky breath, and forced her gaze back to Rosa . She had to do this, and see this. She had to help him.

“We found something very important to your people,” she told Rosa , between rapid breaths. “ It’s called — the Skyli .”

She didn’t miss Filak’s deep growl beside her, but she kept her eyes on Rosa’s face, and launched into possibly the most bizarre conversation she’d ever had in her life. Telling Rosa all about the spectacular ruined Skyli , and the eyes that reached all the way to the sun, and all the extensive repairs it needed. And though Rosa listened with increasing intensity, she also kept kneeling before John - Ka , stroking his waiting cock, and occasionally tilting her head to kiss and suck at the thick stream of white steadily pulsing out from its glossy crown.

“But I really thought the Skyli was just a myth!” Rosa exclaimed once Daisy had finished, with a scandalized glance up at John - Ka’s inscrutable face. “ Some sort of eschatological reward upon death, or whatever. Not an actual place , just sitting there falling to ruin for all these years!”

So Daisy rapidly explained what she knew of that, too. How Filak’s forefathers had built and abandoned the Skyli hundreds of years ago, and how he’d come here in part to search for it, and bring his people back to it. While Rosa’s eyes went wider and wider, and Filak went stiffer and stiffer, his jaw grinding in his cheek.

“So why was Filak looking for the Skyli in the first place?” Rosa demanded, darting another searching look toward Filak’s face. “ And why does he want to move the Nor -ka-esh to live there?”

Daisy hesitated, the guilt shouting louder now — she didn’t want to betray Filak’s own secrets, right? — and her hand reflexively found his stiff back, stroking up and down. “ That’s … not my story to tell,” she told Rosa . “ But maybe” — she squared her shoulders — “maybe if you’re willing to help Filak with this, you can try to earn his trust, and see, and… learn. Together .”

Rosa was already nodding, looking genuinely delighted by this plan, while John - Ka cast a narrow impenetrable glance toward Filak’s viciously glowering face. “ Viltu tetta ?” he asked, even as he again tugged on Rosa’s chain, and brazenly sank his cock between her lips. “ Hjálp okkar vie ae laga Skylie ?”

He had to be asking if Filak really wanted this, right? And though Filak’s mouth was pursed, his arms still folded taut and forbidding against his chest, Daisy kept rubbing her hand at his back, and watched. Waited . Learned .

And then — Filak nodded. It was sharp, short, and angry, but it meant — yes. Yes . He would accept their help. And Daisy would have crowed with relief, would have maybe even hugged or thanked him, if not for…

For this. His body whirling away from Rosa and John - Ka , his arm circling swift and powerful around Daisy’s waist, and then hauling her toward the nearest section of bare stone wall. Pinning her there by the wrists, as his breaths heaved through his chest, and his eyes blazed hard and furious on hers.

“Daisy,” he hissed, his voice a low threat in his throat. “ Af hverju gereir tú tetta ?”

Why have you done this , it might have meant, and Daisy held his eyes, and raised her chin. “ Tú tarf hjálp ,” she replied, as smoothly as she could. “ Vinir .”

You need help , it meant. Friends . And though she surely hadn’t said it all correctly, it still earned a furious, disapproving growl from Filak , along with a hungry flex of his hand on her wrists. And maybe even a brief betraying spasm in his trousers, too, jutting against her hip…

But Daisy didn’t even flinch. Because maybe — she’d expected this response from him. Maybe she’d seen it, from the moment they’d walked into this heated, tantalizing room. And she was an artist, she wanted to keep seeing it, sparking it, learning more of Filak’s truth. How would he react to her displeasing him, and disobeying him? What would he do next?

And this was a safe place to learn, Rosa had said — and somehow it did feel safe, despite the sounds of slaps and cries filtering through the room. Rosa and John - Ka were here, Julian was here, Gareth was here. No matter what Filak did, she had witnesses. She had help.

And most of all, Filak had sworn she would be safe with him. He’d sworn to prove himself as a good mate. He’d promised.

“ Nei ,” Filak snarled, a low shivering scrape up her spine. “ Nei , Daisy . ég tarf enga hjálp. Engir vinir.”

I need no help , it might have meant. No friends . And Daisy didn’t try to suppress her sudden answering laugh, cold and mocking in Filak’s face. Letting him see her contempt, her refusal, her disobedience.

“ Nei , Filak ,” she snapped back. “ You do need help. You’ve been doing so much alone, carrying all the burdens of your entire people, trying to save their lives and their future! Surely you can try to share the load even a little?”

Filak’s lip curled up, baring all his sharp white teeth, and he snarled something back, all rapid incomprehensible Aelakesh . But Daisy understood that resistance, that rage, simmering brighter in his eyes…

“I don’t care,” she shot back, raising her chin even higher. “ I’m helping you! ég hjálpa !”

Filak snarled again, his lean body now pressing her tighter to the wall, and one of his hands slipped down to her collared throat, curving hot and hungry against it. “ Nei , Daisy ,” he hissed. “ Nei !”

But Daisy shook her head against his hand, and attempted a cold smile toward his furious face. “ Yes , Filak ,” she replied, her voice rising. “ And look, you wanted a mate. A sálufélagi . And it’s your sálufélagi ’s job to help you! Sálufélagi hjálpa , Filak !”

Filak’s lip curled higher — he did not like that point — and his tall body pressed her even closer to the wall. “ Sálufélagi fuck,” he snapped. “ Sálufélagi sun. Artist . Sálufélagi come and hear. Sálufélagi no mock and scorn!”

But Daisy held his eyes, and shook her head. “ Nei , Filak ,” she said. “ Nei , nei, nei . I will disagree with you, I will disobey you, I will say and do whatever the hell I want, and you don’t get to control me!”

Filak’s snarl was deep and furious this time, and his narrow eyes flicked up to the wall above Daisy’s head. As if he wanted to chain her up again, pinning her here, where he could do whatever the hell he wanted with her. But — a strange disappointment dropped in her belly — there was no chain on this wall, so what would he do now, and she wanted to see it, wanted to learn…

“So what are you going to do?” she demanded, with a taunting arch of her chin toward him. “ How will Filak handle a disobedient sálufélagi ?”

Filak stared back for a long moment, his eyes glittering, his breaths heaving. And then his hands gripped powerfully at Daisy’s hips, and spun her around, facing away from him, toward — a platform. A small, fur-covered stone platform, about as high as Daisy’s waist. And with another swift movement, he bent her forward onto it, pinning both her wrists to the fur over her head with one hand. While his other hand brought up something else, hovering it before Daisy’s blinking eyes. His … his rope .

Oh gods, yes, and Daisy couldn’t bite back her moan as Filak looped it around her wrists, and drew it snug. Leaving her bound and bent over on the platform, with her still-clothed bottom half facing out toward him, and toward the rest of the room, too. So anyone could see his hand now gripping against her arse like this, brazen and possessive — and then his hand drew back, and gave her a light, stinging slap.

“ ég refsa tér ,” he hissed from behind her, hot and menacing. “ ég heyri tig bieja .”

Oh, hell. They were words he’d taught her just that morning, and Daisy quaked all over, and nearly choked on her breath. I punish you . I hear you beg.

But yes, it was so right, it was so fucking good, it was suddenly everything Daisy wanted from him right now, please . But wait, now his hand was just caressing again, and he leaned down over her, his breath hot and ragged in her ear.

“Ach?” he whispered. “ You wish, Daisy mín ?”

You wish .

And together with the firing craving, it was relief, it was light, it was a dangerous swerving affection. Because Filak was still asking, still waiting, and that meant — Daisy was still safe. She could push him, and disobey him, even if it hurt him — and he would still keep his word, and be a good mate. He would still care for her, and offer her pleasure, offer to make art with her. Offer to use their disagreement to whirl out new magic between them, to sweep them both into the dream…

“ Ach, Daisy mín ?” he murmured, with another gentle stroke of his hand against her. “ Ach , or nei ? Stop ?”

Daisy’s breath swelled through her chest, and she leaned back into him, arched her body into his safe certain touch. “ Ach ,” she gasped. “ Please , Filak . Don’t stop.”

His exhale was heavy, hungry, his body rising tall again behind her — and then his hand drew back, and landed in another firm, decisive slap against her arse. “ Ach , sólin mín ,” he said, and it was harder now, with a cold ringing command that shot straight to her groin. “ ég refsa tér . ég ríe tér. ég l?t tig bieja.”

Daisy gasped and quivered all over, and turned her head to see his bared teeth, his blazing black eyes. “ Gods , you are such a fiend ,” she breathed. “ Such a demanding, bossy, belligerent sálufélagi —”

Her voice was drowned out by Filak’s deep, disapproving growl, and then the shocking, exhilarating feeling of his hand deftly slipping around her front, and unfastening her trousers. Yanking them downwards, exposing her arse to the entire room, oh gods — and then, for good measure, he yanked off the fur cloak she’d been wearing, too. Leaving her only in her flimsy silk top, and the trousers now sagging around her knees.

“ Nei, Daisy ,” came his low hiss, as his clawed hand roughly palmed at her bare arse. “ Heiera mig. Heiera sálufélaga tinn .”

Heiera meant honour , another word from that morning, and Daisy made her best attempt at a laugh, a disdainful glance toward him over her shoulder. “ Eg nei heiera ,” she snapped back, and though the grammar was surely wrong, the comprehension still flashed through Filak’s eyes. “ Ekki heiera, Filak ! Tú ert —”

But it was broken by Filak’s firm slap to her bare arse, thrilling her all over, and she arched up for more, even as she rolled her eyes back toward him. “ Is that all you can do?” she demanded. “ Er tetta allt, Filak ?”

His growl was harsh and vicious, even as something much like appreciation flared across his face. And his next strike was even harder, all stinging surging heat driving from his palm into her bare skin, her swollen seizing groin.

But it was still so good, so damned enthralling, so Daisy kept taunting him, cursing him, using both common-tongue and every Aelakesh word she could muster, while his slaps came harder, first with teasing brushes of his claws, and then with gripping painful scrapes. Striking both her arse-cheeks, now, and surely leaving marks all over her inflamed skin — but Daisy truly did not care. Didn’t care what it looked like, or who might be watching Filak do this to her, exposing her and punishing her and humiliating her in public. She just needed more, more, please, please…

“ Gott ?” Filak finally demanded in her ear, and he sounded breathless too. “ Enough , sálufélagi minn ?”

But even as he said it, his clawed hand squeezed her arse again, its sharp thumb now slipping dangerously close into her exposed crease. Enough to make Daisy gasp and arch back again, her entire body just one bright vibrating craving, needing that dark hungry chuckle behind her, that slow tantalizing scrape of his claw over her most vulnerable places…

“ Ach, sólin mín ,” he hissed behind her, triumphant, as his other hand spread her a little further apart, maybe so he could watch, oh gods. “ Tú tarft meira .”

You need more , it meant, a statement, a question, a promise. A place for Daisy to decide to leave, or refuse… but instead she shoved further back toward his touch, jerky enough to feel his claw scrape her skin. Not much, but enough that he hissed at her, and gave her another firm, ringing slap.

“Ach,” he growled, and oh, he was moving, doing something behind her — and then, a touch. A rounded, familiar, slick-tipped touch… his smooth slippery crown, oh gods. Not delving into her wet heat down below, where her legs were still clamped together by the trousers around her knees — but instead, further up. Closer to where he’d been slapping her. And fuck, the heat of it, the size of it, the inflamed stinging shame of it, of having her arse publicly spanked and punished, and then brazenly plundered like this, endangered like this, where anyone could see…

But suddenly Daisy needed it, enough that it ached. Needed to see it, to learn, to know. Needed to offer up everything, to lose herself entirely to Filak’s control, his command, his care.

“Ach?” he asked again, soft again, making sure again, and Daisy fervently, frantically nodded, and shoved back harder. Saying , yes. Yes . Yes .

She could feel Filak shuddering in return, sputtering out his fluid heat into her crease — but he still didn’t push. Didn’t rush. And instead, his hands caressed her stinging arse-cheeks, and drew her apart wider. So his leaking crown could nudge and stroke, deepening the pressure, and then softening it again. The sounds already slick and humiliating, but of course he liked that, and maybe he was even doing it on purpose. Jutting in, popping out, stroking, circling, smearing his slippery seed up and down, prodding inside again. Perhaps going a little deeper each time, oh gods, and Daisy could only moan and shudder and feel it, welcome it, babble and beg for more.

But Filak kept taking his time, taunting her, playing with her, easing in more and more. Flaunting her and using her however he pleased, until Daisy felt more spread out, more exposed and vulnerable, than she’d ever felt in her life. Quivering all over as her wet opened body clutched and gaped and dripped for him, putting on a show for him, begging for the rest of him, all of him, please…

And when he finally, finally kept pressing, easing himself long and slow into her frantic clutching grip, all the whirling heat caught, shuddered, held — and then blared up into a great battering inferno. Shouting and scorching everything it touched, and Daisy was shouting too, her vision flashing with tones of coral and crimson, orange and ruby and scarlet. All flushed and blazing together, just like Filak’s shuddering, sun-painted body finally burning all the way inside her — and then he was flashing and flaring too, erupting with arcs of white, painting her darkest places with white dizzying light.

It ebbed in shaky spurts, in sparkling shimmers behind Daisy’s eyes, in the roughness of the rope against her bound, trembling hands. And then in the smooth, reassuring strokes of Filak’s hands as he drew himself back out of her, just as slow and careful as when he’d gone in, waiting for her to adjust, to capture all his radiance inside.

Daisy only vaguely noticed him releasing her wrists, and pulling up her trousers again. But when those firm hands drew her up and around again, she leaned into his touch, his solid steady safety. Allowing him to guide her away, past a cheerfully waving, satisfied-looking Rosa , and then a distant-looking Julian . And then out the door into the dark corridor, now lit mostly by the sparks still flickering behind Daisy’s eyes. But it was beautiful, a glimmering echo of the art they’d made together, still twisting her into the bright dazzling dream.

The dream kept simmering as Filak drew her into their dark room, and undressed her with careful clawed hands. And then he guided her bared body down face-first onto the soft furs of their bed, so he could crouch between her legs behind her, and… lick her. Not just the raw-feeling scrapes and scratches on her arse-cheeks, but everything up in between, too. Something that surely should have been shameful, but instead felt like more of the dream, like warm flickering wonder, like… care. Like affection. Like trust.

“So… you’re not actually angry?” Daisy’s voice asked, cutting into the haze. “ Reieur ? About what I did? Asking the Ka -esh for help? I know how much you didn’t want…”

Her voice trailed off, and she could feel Filak’s hesitation, the weight of his attention in the dark. “ Nei , I no like,” he said, finally, as his claws absently drummed against Daisy’s back. “ But … you are sálufélagi . Thus , I … uphold you. Stand with you. Trust you.”

Oh. It was more shivery warmth up Daisy’s spine, especially when those drumming claws pricked a little harder, just at the perfect edge of pain. “ But also — my right to punish you, sólin mín ,” he murmured, as he gently kissed his way up her back. “ Trap you. Rule you. Break you.”

What? It sliced through the darkness, choked in Daisy’s breath, because Filak truly believed he had the right to do those things? To trap her, rule her, break her? And of course he had no right to do such things, especially after how this had all begun, and when had he even learned how to say all that, and…

And then, as if to make his point, Filak deliberately drew his hand back, and gave her arse a light but purposeful slap. Driving a deep, betraying shiver all through Daisy’s body, and a helpless moan from her mouth. Again shouting in that language they both knew too well, and he huffed a low, contented chuckle behind her, and nuzzled into the back of her neck. “ You like, sólin mín ,” he murmured. “ I see.”

I see . Words that cut even deeper than the rest, because… oh. He was… seeing her, too. Seeing into the deepest, most shameful parts of her, the parts that even artists weren’t supposed to have. The parts that were ridiculous, immature, foolish, dangerous…

But it was Lew’s voice again, and Daisy was forgetting Lew , right? Filak had said no Lew , and Filak was here, seeing her, ruling her, trapping her, breaking her. Making her his, making art with her, in all these shameless shocking ways. Even though Daisy had pushed him and ignored his wishes, and probably hurt him, too, and did he really believe he had a right to rule over her in return? And it was all whirling and tangling together, too dense to break apart…

“I like, also,” Filak breathed, hot into her ear, as his hand gave another firm, thrilling slap to her arse. “ Like break you. Rule you. Keep you. Mín .”

Mín. Mine . The words again thudding through Daisy’s body, strong enough to wash away the hesitation, the shame, the fear. And even enough to smother that distant chanting awareness from earlier that day, the certainty that he was afraid of being alone. He craved the power to trap her and keep her, maybe just like his father had done to his mother, trapping her ever deeper underground until she died…

But in this moment, there was only this. Only being caught against the bed and the art and the seeing, with her mate’s strong body now decisively flipping her over, and spreading her legs wide with his knees. Holding her, splitting her apart, making her leak his hot fresh spunk out onto their bed…

“ Mín ,” he hissed again, and Daisy wasn’t arguing it. Not the danger or the threat, the darkness or the unknown, the familiar beckoning call of the dream. Her devil was here, ruling and commanding, and she was still following. Following him deeper and deeper into the whirling, pitch-black fantasy, one where his hand on her wrists meant safety, his claws on her throat meant seduction, his legs between hers meant sanctuary. And his hungry body was pure blissful salvation, prodding slick and demanding back into where she was already wet and raw, used and broken from his punishment.

So she nodded, and gasped, and opened up wide. Embraced her dangerous, deadly devil in the darkness, and begged him for more.