Page 8 of What Fury Brings (Wrath and Fury #1)

Sanos ignored them. To the madam, he said, “Andrastus needs help taking off his pants to piss all the ale out of his system. He will be no good tonight. I’ll keep the new girl company instead.”

He’d show her she made the wrong choice.

Madam Blanchette froze in place. The pause was short-lived, but Sanos still caught it. Nobody liked to say no to him. He wondered if the madam would dare.

“I mean no offense, Prince, but that is not how things are done here. My girl requested Andrastus, and if he’ll agree, she’ll have no other.”

It shouldn’t matter. Just earlier he was thinking about how any woman would do for tonight.

But why had this one requested his brother?

Sanos’s gold was just as good as Andrastus’s. Yet this woman wanted his brother.

Sanos had never been wanted before. He hadn’t realized it was something he should want until he was suddenly presented with the hard truth of the lack of it.

His three youngest brothers took their girls upstairs. Sanos frowned at Andrastus, who was now leaning against the wall.

“She’s in room twelve, Highness,” the madam said to his brother.

With a sigh, Sanos pulled his brother’s arm over his shoulders to help him take the stairs. Sanos would at least catch a glimpse of the new woman. Maybe next year…

Amarra’s tits, the thought was so damned depressing. A whole year before he would get this again. A night without worries. Another’s touch.

The pleasant buzzing in his head couldn’t make up for the sudden melancholy that came over him.

Cut that out , he chastised himself. You keep your family safe. There is no better way to live.

When they reached the top step, Andrastus nearly slipped from his grasp. It was only Sanos’s quick reflexes that saved him from the journey back down.

Sanos shuffled him off in the direction of room twelve, but before they could reach it, Andrastus was suddenly deadweight. His brother landed on the floor with a thump that was masked by the sounds of all the bed play coming from the other rooms.

Sanos dragged his brother by the arms over to the side of the hallway, where no one would step on him.

Then he took the time to turn Andrastus onto his side in case the ale came back up.

Sanos ought to go downstairs and select his choice for the evening.

He shouldn’t be wasting precious seconds standing over his brother.

Gods, he hated being the oldest.

His head swerved in the direction of room twelve without his permission.

Who was this woman who had the audacity to show a preference in princes?

Sanos looked over his shoulder once, then back to the door. The hallway was still empty.

And his curiosity got the better of him.

He stepped inside room twelve and found a lone woman standing by the window. Her back was to him.

“Are you the new girl?” he asked.

She turned, and he was surprised to find that so much of her was covered up. She didn’t dress like the other Amarran-looking whores. Maybe that was her gimmick. Her face was shadowed under a hood so he couldn’t guess a thing about her appearance, save that she was a large woman.

His mouth watered. A large woman meant large breasts.

He shook his head to focus. He wouldn’t pounce on her without first speaking to her. He wasn’t an animal.

She gave him a slow perusal from head to toe, and his blood heated.

“Are you the prince?” she asked. Her voice was deep and sultry. He liked that.

“I’m the best prince,” he answered, shutting the door behind him so they could be alone. He thought perhaps he could see a flash of teeth beneath her hood.

“I know you are. That’s why I chose you.”

Disappointment came over him as he remembered she wanted Andrastus, but she was moving toward him, and he found himself rooted to the spot.

“You are the fairest, the cleverest, the most romantic of princes,” she said.

She stood before him now and placed her hands on his shoulders. With one finger, he drew back her hood.

Her hair was a dark chestnut. The strands had a natural shimmer to them even with the low candlelight in the room.

She wore it in a single braid that curved over one shoulder.

Two strands, one on each side of her head, were too short to fit into the plait.

She wore no makeup or paint, which was unusual, but he rather liked the idea of not getting it in his mouth when he kissed her.

Her skin was white but tanned from spending lots of time in the sun.

Darker than most he saw in Brutus. Her eyes were hazel, and her lips were so plump he couldn’t wait to taste them.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, reaching out to fiddle with the end of her braid. Her hair was like velvet against his fingers. He wanted to undo her braid and tangle his fingers in it.

“You’re larger than I expected,” she said.

He blinked at the reminder that she still thought him his brother. He leaned down. “I am the best prince,” he said again. “I’ll prove it.”

“I’m counting on that,” she said. She was focused on his neck for some reason, so he traced her lips with his fingertip. That brought her gaze where he wanted it. On his own mouth.

He leaned down the rest of the way.

And tasted heaven.

Olerra knew she should get Andrastus out of here as quickly as possible, but he seduced her oh so prettily, and she wasn’t prepared for the feeling of his mouth on hers.

She’d been kissed before, of course. But those were boys in her earlier years, before she decided that in order to keep her secret she needed to distance herself from the opposite sex.

She’d never been kissed by a man.

His lips didn’t kiss her so much as devour her.

He moaned as he took her bottom lip between his own, letting his tongue dart across her skin.

His teeth closed over the same spot and pulled gently.

It felt as though he pulled on something deep within her, a tether that reached between her legs and was her undoing.

She shoved him against the closed door to the room and kissed him in earnest, loving this intensity that was so new to her.

Andrastus made a sound of surprise deep in his throat but didn’t stop.

His hands found her braid again. When her hair fell loose, she realized he’d undone the band.

And then his fingers were tracing up and down her scalp, cupping the back of her head to keep their mouths fused together.

Oh, but she liked that.

He ran light fingers down her neck, over the top of her cloak, and finally reached her breasts, where he took the biggest handfuls he could get and squeezed gently.

He groaned.

“I need your skin against mine,” he said, just before he put his tongue in her mouth.

The tongue was distracting. It spread fire throughout her limbs, making her ache. It was a stark contrast to his words, which reminded her she had a task to perform.

She wasn’t here for sex. She was here for a husband.

She opened her eyes during the open-mouthed kisses, finding that the way his lashes lay against his cheeks was utterly beautiful.

Focus!

She flipped open the hinge on the ring she wore, revealing the barb underneath.

He was ready to help her remove her cloak when he felt something sharp pierce his neck.

Sanos thought to ignore it and continue, but his body didn’t seem to be working properly. Instead of reaching up to unveil what he wanted, he was falling. The woman bent before he could connect with the floor, catching his waist on her shoulder. Then she stood, grunting under his weight.

It was odd that she should be the one to carry him to the bed, but he wasn’t nearly as concerned with that as he was by the fact that he couldn’t seem to work his hands or his mouth to ask what was happening.

He was staring at her backside. In fact, his nose kept bumping into it with the strides she was taking.

“There you go, Andrastus,” she said.

Then he was falling.

He landed on his back, the impact jarring his bones. He felt something soft beneath him, though not soft enough for the fall to be painless. After another thud , the woman landed beside him on what he suspected was a pile of blankets.

“We’ve got him, Ydra. Let’s go,” she said before meticulously covering him with blankets.

As Sanos stared up at the star-covered night, he managed to put a few things together.

She’d stuck him with some kind of paralytic.

She’d dumped him out a window.

He’d landed on the bed of a cart.

Horses were moving, taking him someplace.

As the mystery woman placed a final blanket over the top of him, this time covering his head, he suspected that she wasn’t working for his brothers.

She was no whore, and this was no game.

By the time the cart stopped hours later, he could move the first and second joints of his fingers, but no more. He was also fully aroused.

Painfully so.

What the hell was in that toxin?

Was this some nasty test of his father’s to prove himself a man yet again?

Had he set up some elaborate ruse to see how Sanos would handle himself under pressure?

It was just the kind of thing the king would do.

He was always fond of torturing his eldest son and claiming it was all to build his character.

Before he could move his fingers into a fist, the two women bound him with ropes, securing his arms and legs to the sides of the cart so he was spread-eagle. Now that it was starting to get light out, he could see more of the second woman.

She was smaller than the one who’d thrown him out the window. She was fair, with yellow locks that she also wore in one long braid down her back. Her eyes were gray, and she had a bow slung over one shoulder.

Finally, he found he could move his lips. “Did my father put you up to this?” he asked when the fairer one—Ydra—came into his line of sight.

She smiled at him but said nothing.

At least not to him.

“He’s not what I expected,” she said instead to her companion.

“Nor I,” the other answered.

“Does he meet your approval?”

Olerra climbed into the cart with the man she intended to wed and gave Ydra’s question due consideration.

Andrastus was a big man. Far heavier than she’d expected him to be.

She reached out a hand to wrap it around a bicep and felt nothing but muscle.

She hadn’t really had the chance to touch him anywhere save his shoulders (to steady herself) and his neck (to apply the toxin).

Physically, he was intimidating. She couldn’t decide if she liked that or not.

Really, she shouldn’t be surprised. Atalius was a massive man. Of course all his sons would be, too. Even the smallest of them.

The prince’s hair was something else entirely.

It was so blond as to almost be white, and it trailed down to his shoulders, thick yet straight as a board.

His beard and eyebrows were darker, a light gold color.

Olerra didn’t know men could have hair of different colors on their chins.

No men in Amarra wore beards. She wondered at the shape of his jaw.

His complexion was bone white, which she suspected was a result of his new circumstances. He would need special oils so as not to burn when they reached the heat of Amarra. She hadn’t thought of that beforehand, but there was nothing to do about it now. They had a schedule to keep.

His eyes were black in this lighting, so she suspected they were a dark brown. And, oh, how they glared at her.

She finally let her gaze dip down to the bulge in his pants, a result of the vyra she’d injected him with. It both paralyzed men and made them hard. It was her cousin’s favorite accessory for misbehaving bed partners. Olerra would never use it again on him now that she’d captured him.

But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t take advantage of its current effects.

Even with all his clothing on, she could tell his cock was proportionate to the rest of his body.

“I guess what they say is true. Brutus didn’t bless his sons just with virility. He also gave them big cocks.”

Ydra cackled. “Maybe I should kidnap a Brute.”

Olerra watched the prince’s eyes widen at the conversation. She made sure not to laugh at him. It would not be a great start to their relationship. She wanted to put him at ease, so she added, “The prince is a great kisser.”

“Is that why you took so long nabbing him?”

Olerra grinned. “I might have gotten a little carried away.” She rubbed her cheeks. “His beard is scratchy, though. I can’t wait to kiss him again once we get all that wretched hair shaved off his face.”

Andrastus narrowed his eyes, finally finding his voice. “You will not come near my beard,” he said with the authority afforded only to a prince.

Olerra leaned down until she was only inches from his face.

“I am Olerra Corasene, queen potential of Amarra. You will soon have the honor of being my husband. Your life is about to finally mean something. Your seed will create queens and conquerors, and you will be rewarded handsomely should you please me. Now get some sleep, Prince Andrastus. We’ve a bit of a journey ahead of us. ”

“There is no fucking wa—”

She gagged him.