“Thank you, Mistress,” and rose to his feet.
Kaitlyn stepped forward, standing on her tiptoes to brush a soft kiss against his lips.
“You look very handsome,” she murmured, smiling at him. She took the end of the leash. “Let’s go to Morning Court. And let’s hope it’s less crazy than the banquet was last night.”
“Agreed,” Braze rumbled. His mindset was already changing—shifting from lover to Protector, despite his bonds. But still, he carried his desire with him—in a very literal sense.
The cage around his shaft was a persistent pressure—a constant reminder of his devotion to his Mistress. The collar was a familiar anchor—he’d been collared all the time during his time with Mistress Lovelyone, so he was used to it. The leash in Kaitlyn’s hand was a promise—a hope for their future together.
They headed out the door—a stunning Elite and her intricately-bound Protector—stepping from the privacy of their sanctuary into the viper’s den of imperial politics.
Neither of them had any idea of the fresh chaos that awaited. The banquet had been a bloody surprise—Morning Court, however, was a carefully laid trap.
And they were walking directly into it.
25
KAITLYN
Morning Court was held in a different chamber than the banquet hall—a long, narrow room with a vaulted ceiling of stained glass that cast fragmented rainbows across the polished black marble floor. The air was cooler—scented with incense and a faint, metallic tang.
Instead of low couches, there were rows of high-backed chairs along the walls, filled with the noblewomen of the Royal Court. They were all dressed in elaborate, revealing gowns, their expressions a mixture of boredom and sharp-eyed assessment as they watched each other move around the room.
And beside each woman, like a living accessory, stood her husband.
Kaitlyn’s steps faltered for a second as she took it all in. Every single male was restrained in some way. Some wore intricate leather harnesses—others had their wrists bound behind them with silken cords.
But the common denominator, gleaming under the rainbow light, was the cage. Silver, gold, black chrome—each husband had one encasing his cock—a blatant symbol of ownership and control.
At the far end of the room, on a dais of purple crystal, sat Empress Shatezarra. She was draped in sheer lavender silks and reclining indolently on her throne. As always, a concubine knelt between her spread thighs, his head bowed in diligent service. The soft, wet sounds of his tongue were audible in the hushed room.
Braze walked a half-step behind Kaitlyn, showing her respect while remaining close enough to protect her. She could feel the tension in the leash… the coiled readiness in his large frame. She could also feel the key to his cage, which rested between her breasts—a cool, constant reminder of what they were doing together.
What were they doing together, though, she wondered? Was he really as eager to submit as he seemed? Did he really want her to dominate him? It certainly seemed so, and it felt like a wish come true. If only they could finish this mission and get out of here, the two of them could explore the new dynamic that seemed to be growing between them.
Kaitlyn couldn’t wait—but first she had to get the Love Vine.
The Empress’s eyes were like chips of amethyst, tracking their approach. A slow, speculative smile curved her lips and she tapped her concubine on the head, prompting him to sit back and wipe his mouth.
“The Ambassadress from Earth and her Kindred Protector,” a servant in golden livery announced. “Brave survivors of the Kriver incident!”
A murmur rippled through the court. All eyes were on them, and specifically, on Braze.
“Come closer, my dears,” the Empress purred, beckoning with a lazy hand. “Do not be shy—you have much to be proud of.”
They approached the dais. Kaitlyn dipped into a curtsy and Braze went to one knee, his head bowed, the leash going slack in her hand.
“We are so very pleased with you both,” the Empress said, her voice dripping with honeyed condescension. “You put on an excellent show last night—both in the banquet hall and in the bedroom. The bravery, the violence, and the subsequent tenderness. Truly riveting entertainment.”
Kaitlyn kept her face carefully neutral, but inside she was fuming. Entertainment. That’s all they were to these people.
But it wasn’t just anger she felt—the Empress’ words sent a hot flush creeping up her neck. She’d forgotten, in the terror and intimacy of the night before, that every moment in the Black Diamond Suite was being observed. The thought of unseen eyes watching Braze kneel before her to taste her—and then, later, watching her explore him—made her skin prickle with a mix of shame and defiant pride.
“And you, mighty warrior,” the Empress continued, focusing on Braze. “You acted where my own guards failed! Such strength. Such loyalty.”
She clapped her hands once, sharply. A servant scurried forward bearing a velvet pillow. On it lay a heavy medallion on a thick silver chain, shaped like a snarling beast’s head.
“This is a token of our Royal gratitude,” the Empress said. “The Medal of the Crimson Claw—bestowed for valor far beyond the call of duty.”
