Page 32 of What Fury Brings (Wrath and Fury #1)

Andrastus was such a sight when he lost control. He was so incredibly strong, even while chained up. She’d feared for a moment that he’d knock her over with the way he was thrusting back into her.

Olerra had wondered why he’d asked her not to call him by his name, though not enough to question it. Perhaps his family called him by a nickname that he wasn’t ready to share with her. Maybe he hated his given name. She didn’t linger on the oddity of it long.

She was so wet she could feel it as she walked to her room. The thought of touching herself while he watched again had crossed her mind, but she wanted to leave him wanting more. She wanted to let his imagination run wild while she was in the next room.

Olerra selected a phallus, one slightly bigger than she’d used last time—before she’d been beaten by her cousin.

It fit, though not without some strain. Olerra worked her clit while she left the instrument inside her, pretending it belonged to her prince.

She screamed nice and loud when she came and could have sworn she heard a muttered curse from his room.

The next morning, she knew she couldn’t put off her duties any longer to spend time with her betrothed. Becoming incapacitated had really thrown off her plans. She’d intended to spend several weeks alone with him, but that time was all gone. As a general, Olerra needed to see to her troops.

Ydra was at the training field when she arrived, overseeing the morning exercises being performed by a squadron. The sight of women in armor, performing their drills in perfect synchronization was one that brought Olerra calm.

As much as she itched to move, she went to her office just off the yard. There were reports that needed reading. Supplies that needed to be allocated. The quarterly budget needed reviewing. Olerra was good with numbers, doing sums in her head that others often required quill and parchment for.

Yet, as she stared at the documents before her, the figures swam in and out of place.

Her brain much preferred dwelling on the timbre of Andrastus’s voice as her name fell from his lips over and over again.

Yes, Olerra. Please, Olerra. I want this, Olerra.

She crossed her legs as her whole body warmed and heat pooled in her core.

She wanted his fingers on her. Not her own. She hated that things had to be this way.

Fine, she’d get to the reports in a moment. Movement seemed to be a better idea first. She returned outside, stepping up beside Ydra and crossing her arms.

“Report,” she said, the word coming out harsher than she’d intended.

“And a good morning to you, too, General. Has a certain prince gotten under our skin today?” Ydra asked cheekily.

Olerra closed her eyes and rubbed her brow.

“Or perhaps we wish he were under our pants?” she added.

“Stop talking in the plural about my betrothed,” Olerra snapped.

Ydra chuckled. “I’m supposed to be the one pissed at him. What did he do?”

“Nothing.”

“Fine.” Ydra matched her stance to Olerra’s, crossing her arms over her chest and observing the training ahead with a cold gaze.

No one else in all of Amarra could get away with mocking the general.

Olerra sighed. “We had a sexual encounter last night.”

“And it was disappointing?”

“No, it was perfect.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Olerra cracked her knuckles. “I chained him to the ceiling and took him from behind.”

“Very exciting.”

“And then I went to bed.”

Ydra placed her body directly in front of her. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I can’t exactly let him reciprocate, can I?”

Ydra gave her a sad smile. “Is this about what happened to your mother?”

“Of course it is. Everything comes back to that. I can’t trust him. What if he uses pleasure time to try to hurt me? To try to escape? I can’t exactly have people listening in to intervene! Word would spread, and I want that man all to myself. No onlookers.”

“So we’re feeling sexually frustrated because we can’t allow the man to pleasure us back.”

Olerra shot her a warning look.

“Okay, here’s what I think you should do.”

Yes, practical advice! This is exactly what Olerra needed.

“Stop worrying about it.”

Olerra glared at her. “He’s not harmless. You remember how he took out Aevia. And that assassin. And you know that I don’t—” Their conversation may have been private, but even Olerra couldn’t risk saying her deepest secret aloud.

“You need a bout,” Ydra said.

“You’re offering to fight me?” Olerra asked.

“Until you can trust him. Until you get to know him better, you need to work out that energy in other ways. You’ve been following him around and then recovering. You haven’t gotten your usual workouts in. Let’s go a round, and then you can pick on some of the captains.”

“I knew there was a reason I loved you.”

“You love me because I’m right about everything. Now, let’s do this before I change my mind.”

Sanos was back in the gymnasium, only this time it wasn’t a group of eunuchs who followed him around. It was some of Olerra’s troops.

The women didn’t speak to him, much like their general, whom he suspected was hiding from him. The last time she’d done this was after that horrible ride to the pit. Then, she’d been giving him space and distance.

This time? He didn’t know.

Was she embarrassed after what had happened between them?

Because he fucking was. Did anyone know what he’d let her do to him? He tried to guess as he trailed along the large room full of husbands and consorts. But no one gave him any particular attention, just like the last time he entered, save when Athon created his disturbance.

Sanos’s guards followed at a distance, and they didn’t let any men approach him.

Clearly Olerra wasn’t taking any chances with him or Glenaerys this time.

He was almost grateful for the guard. Much as he might hate her, Glen also made him uneasy.

In one simple act, she’d had him on his knees, ready to lose his head.

He suppressed a shiver.

Sanos worked his body again today. He ran laps around the track and lifted weights.

When that was done, he sat himself in the solarium to take in all the beautiful flora growing indoors.

He managed to find a quiet spot separate from the men working the soil, giving him the illusion of privacy, even though he knew the guards were right behind him.

There was a commotion. A woman was calling a name as she walked into the rooms. Distantly he heard his brother’s name on her lips.

“Andrastus?”

One of his guards located the woman and brought her to his destination.

She carried a giant vase of flowers and set the enormous arrangement on the floor before extending a letter out to him.

He took it, glancing around to see if the exchange was catching any sort of attention.

If the other husbands and consorts in the solarium thought the display strange, they didn’t show it.

Sanos opened the note.

My Prince,

Here is one petal for every time I’ve thought about you today.

My warmest regards,

Olerra

Sanos swallowed. Then he read the words again just to be certain his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. She’d… sent him flowers and a… love letter. It was brief and direct, just as she always was, but how could it be called anything else?

Sanos still wasn’t used to how forward Amarran women could be, and he had a feeling his princess was leagues above the rest in that regard. There must have been two dozen flowers in the bundle. Blossoms he didn’t know the names of. Hundreds and hundreds of petals.

He felt his cheeks warm as he looked up, ensuring that still no one watched him.

An attendant stepped forward. “Shall I have these taken to your room, Prince?”

“Yes.” It was odd, giving the order. Sanos had done nothing except receive instructions since arriving. It never occurred to him that he’d have any sort of power as a future husband to the princess.

He kept hold of the note, tracing the curves of her handwriting with his eyes. He already had it memorized, but there was something about looking at it that made his chest warm.

“May I approach?”

An older man stood some paces away, addressing his guard. His hair was fully silver, lines creased at the corners of his eyes and along his neck. He must have been older than even Sanos’s father.

“Prince, Obar is deemed safe by the queen potential. Would you like to speak to him, or shall we have him move along?” The head of his guard was speaking to him.

Twice in quick succession, he was being asked a question. Given power to answer.

“I’ll speak with him.”

“You may,” the guard told Obar.

The older man walked easily and lowered himself onto the bench beside Sanos. His armband was made out of a black metal, and the stone appeared to be topaz.

“Obar,” Sanos said. “That doesn’t sound like an Amarran name.”

“It isn’t. I’m from Dyphankar. Like you, I was kidnapped and brought here to wed.”

Sanos was surprised by this. Surprised, and horrified. Here was a man who was still fit and energetic yet hadn’t managed to escape?

“How long have you been here?” Sanos asked. “Who is your wife?”

“Over forty years. My wife is Enadra, the former general, and Olerra’s mentor.”

Forty years.

Sanos had so many questions, but he started with “Why do you wish to speak to me?”

“Because I was once like you.”

“Are you here to tell me to give up hope now? Accept my lot?”

Obar crossed his legs at the ankles. “I’m not here to tell you what to do. I’m sure your betrothed is doing that plenty.” His eyes shimmered with humor. “I just thought you might like to talk to someone who understands, even if you might not like my thoughts on the matter.”

“Do you care for the woman who took you?”

“I love Enadra more than my own life.”

Oh gods. This man had been brainwashed by the Amarrans. Sanos wished he’d never let him approach.