Startled, Dari’s hearts nigh unto beat out of her chest. She had made her way through the gardens that she might avoid the wretched beast; she had no intention of having her eve further ruined by King Elian now. Crouching down behind the massive blue leaves of apicitree, her stomach lurched as she prayed to the goddess she remained unseen.
“You can do better than that,” the king demanded. His voice was thick with arousal. “Take me deeper into your mouth.”
The princess nigh unto vomited from the suckling sounds permeating the air. Normally such sensual sounds wouldn’t have phased her in the least, yet there seemed to be nothing sensual about them. He had to be abusing a bound servant with his man-rod for she could hear an unfortunate female whimpering.
Dari closed her eyes. She didn’t wish to know what was being done to the bound servant, yet something kept telling her to look and see. Taking a deep breath, the princess quietly exhaled. She opened her eyes. Turning around, careful to make nary a sound, she stayed bent low as she found enough of an opening through the dense blue leaves of thepicitree to see what the king was about.
The princess covered her mouth to keep from gasping as she watched King Elian rape Amia’s throat. He snatched her head so forcefully back and forth as to cause the poor bed wench a fright. Dari could hear what sounded to be cries between the suckling sounds, the king’s face like a warrior possessed, as he brutally rammed his staff down her throat o’er and o’er, again and again.
After what felt an eternity, Elian spurted his essence into the bound servant’s mouth. He commanded her to drink all of his seed and to waste nary a drop. When she was finished, he allowed her time to breathe as he placed his palms around either side of her face.
“I told you to wait for my son’s report, Amia. Did I not?”
“Aye, my king. ‘Tis sorry I am that—”
Whatever Amia had been about to say came to a macabre, blood-curdling end. The king snapped her neck as though it was naught—as though she was naught—afore allowing her lifeless body to fall to the garden floor.
Dari bit down on her own hand to keep from screaming. She bit so hard that droplets of blood dripped down her forearm. Wide-eyed and frightened, she could scarcely imagine what King Elian would do did he discover her. She was given no time to consider the possibilities for at that moment Gio’s sire picked Amia’s dead body up from the garden floor and threw it into a nearby tree.
‘Twas the black tree with silver-ice leaves—the tree they had no name for as of yet. The same tree the king had pricked his finger on.
The princess watched in shock and horror as the red thorns upon the tree seemed to come alive. Making quick work of the king’s once favored bound servant, the thorns devoured Amia’s body in less than fiveNuba-minutes.
Dari wanted to run. She wanted to scream. Yet she knew she could do neither. What if Gio heard her shrill cries and happened upon his sire? Would King Elian do to him what he’d done to Amia? She couldn’t bear the notion.
Just when the princess thought nothing could get worse, she saw the king bow down on one knee afore the tree. He gazed at the horrid thing with worshipfulness in his deranged eyes. What in the sands?
“I have done all you asked, Master,” Elian pronounced. “Let me feel your power within me.”
The tree of silver-ice seemed to understand the king’s bizarre words. One of the red thorns snaked out and, as if staring down King Elian’s throat, pushed a stream of black smoke into it. The smoke was odd in its formation, bringing to mind a tall man made of burnt ash. The king’s mouth remained agape as the formation found its way inside of him. Once done, Arak’s ruler stood up, turned on his booted heel, and disappeared into the night.
Dari noticed the droplets of her own blood trickling down her forearm. Terrified that the evil tree—or king—would somehow smell the scent of it, she quickly lapped it up afore using the bottom of hermazi’sskirt as a makeshift bandage. Too stunned and frightened to move, she sat there like that, shivering and pleading with the goddess for mercy, well o’er aNuba-hour.
“This isn’t happening,” she whispered to herself. Her eyes were unblinking. “Nay. Such a thing cannot possibly happen.”
By the time the princess found the courage to run, the galaxy’s suns were on the verge of rising. She ran faster than she thought she could, making no stops until she reached the small set of doors that would open to her rooms. Once inside—thank the goddess—she found Qenda fast asleep. Careful not to wake her bound servant, she removed hermazi, threw it under her raised bed to deal with later, and quietly commanded theKefasto draw her a bath.
‘Twas when she felt safely ensconced in the heated waters of her bathing hole that Dari first permitted herself to weep. She cried long and silently, uncertain as to what she should do.
“Who would believe me?” Dari murmured aloud. “Who would believe any of this?”
* * * * *
The warriors aboard ship stood in stunned silence. Gio swallowed roughly against the knot in his throat. In truth, his emotions were all over the place; they ranged from self-loathing, to disgust with his sire, to fear and worry for Dari. ‘Twas little wonder his betrothed had run.
“My poor, wee hatchling,” King Dak said in a shaky timbre. “I needs be with her. She has endured too much.”
“I swear to you I knew naught of this!” Gio beseeched his future sire-within-the-law. “I would have protected her above all others!”
Dak ran a punishing hand across his jaw. “I believe you—I do. Yet do I needs be with my hatchling.”
Gio slowly inclined his head. “I understand.” He sighed. “I would feel the same way.”
“Do not concern yourself o’er much for I’ve no intention of asking the Chief Priestess to intervene on me and mynee’ka’sbehalf now that I’ve heard from my hatchling’s own lips that you treated her with all kindness and honor.”
“But?”
“’Tis not a but. Mayhap just a qualifier that I would have you remove the deuce of you to Ti Q’won for a spell. Leastways, until your sire has been…” He sighed. “You are awares what must be done.”
