The Foxling Soldati (Soldati Hearts #2)(26)

Toka did his best not to growl and spit at the man as he entered the room. He strutted down the ridiculously long red carpet to sit on the ostentatious throne forged of steel and stone. Pavoni’s lip curled up on one end, and he motioned for Toka to approach. When Toka didn’t move, the guard beside him pushed him forward. Teeth clenched, Toka placed one chained foot in front of the other, then stopped when he reached the bottom step leading to the throne’s platform. Pavoni shook his head. He spread his knees and pointed to the floor between them.

“Kneel. Here.”

Summoning calm and courage, Toka ascended the steps and came to a halt in front of Pavoni, his shackled hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Pavoni leaned in, his voice a low growl. “I said, on your knees, foxling.”

Toka hesitated, and Pavoni threw a hand out and snatched him by the throat.

“You’re mine now. When I say kneel….” He squeezed Toka’s throat, making him gasp for breath, and forced him down onto his knees. “That’s a good little dog. Dog. That’s what humans call male foxlings, isn’t it? How fitting, for I have every intention of training you like one.”

Toka clenched his jaw, his gaze never wavering.

“Such insolence.” Pavoni moved his hand from Toka’s neck to his hair, running his fingers through it. “Rayner’s influence, no doubt. Did you give yourself to him?”

Toka couldn’t help his smirk. “Yes, with joy and love.”

“Of course you did. Little whore.” Pavoni snorted in disgust.

“Call me what you will, but I gave myself to him freely. Rayner took only what I gave, and that is something you will never have.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“No. I know. Rayner has more power than you’ll ever have. The Soldati respect him, admire him, and love him. The comparison is laughable. You—” The backhanded slap across his face made his body spin, and he fell onto the stairs and rolled to the bottom with a painful groan. His lip was split, and he tasted blood. Pavoni marched down the steps and kicked Toka in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped and held on to his middle, curling up on himself when Pavoni crouched beside him to grab a fistful of his hair. He tugged Toka’s head up, forcing him onto his knees.

“You seem to underestimate the extent of my hatred for your lover. I’m going to enjoy tearing into that hole of yours. I’m going to fuck you until there is nothing left of the light inside your soul, until you’re nothing but a used, empty husk, and then—” He removed a knife from his belt and slid the side up Toka’s face. “—I’ll cut into your flesh, and when I’ve had my fun, when there is nothing left of the beautiful foxling he cherishes so much, I will send you back to him, and he can hold your ghost until you depart this world.”

Toka would not allow Pavoni to see the terror his words brought. He glared at Pavoni, the loathing he had for the man coming through in his voice when he spoke. “No matter what you do, he will always be the greater man, and you will be but a pitiful charlatan forever dwelling in his shadow.”

The ire flowed out of Pavoni in waves, and Toka readied himself for a blow that didn’t come. Instead, Pavoni stood, bellowing out to his Orso guards.

“Get this filthy little whore washed and prepared. I want him ready in my bedchamber in an hour.”

Toka was lifted to his feet, his arms seized, and he was all but carried out of the throne room. They led him down a dark stone corridor into a room with nothing in it but a huge round dark pool of water in the center of a bare stone floor. He was shoved into the pool, and Toka hit the water hard on his side. The floor came up beneath his feet, and he found purchase. He stood, emerging from the water’s surface with a sputter. He shivered from the cold. It was nothing like the baths of his home. The water was icy and void of any scent. He supposed he should be grateful it was clean. He brushed his hair away from his brow and glared at the guards. They paid him no mind. He was nothing to them. A large man, an Orso, dressed in a long brown jerkin with black trousers and black boots, entered the room. One of the guards addressed him.

“His Majesty wants him scrubbed thoroughly and dressed in the garment provided. We will be outside the door should you need us.” He turned his black eyes on Toka. “Behave yourself, or you will leave this room with far more bruises than you entered.”

Toka spat at him, and the man sneered before leaving. The boom of the heavy wooden door closing made Toka jump with a start. At least he was alone. For the most part. The Orso rang a bell, and immediately a host of servants entered. Toka sniffed the air, recognizing the scent. They were bobcat shifters, and they looked miserable. The Orso gave them instructions, and Toka remained still as the servants entered the pool. One of them produced a set of keys, and he began to remove the shackles.

“Do not think of escaping, foxling,” the Orso grunted.

Toka wasn’t stupid. Even if the guards weren’t posted outside the door, there were hundreds around the castle, all of them Orso warriors who could ensnare him before he got very far. He was unfamiliar with the castle, which made finding a hiding spot risky, not to mention his foxling scent would give him away.

The shackles were removed, followed by his clothes. It was strange being on the receiving end of a servant’s bathing. They were meticulous, and Toka gritted his teeth when they parted his cheeks to scrub at his intimate places. The reason behind it made him feel sick to his stomach. He caught one of the servants’ gaze. The young man quickly looked away, but Toka had seen the sympathy in his big gold eyes. Toka was clearly not the first to be taken against his will. He remembered Rayner’s words, and he wondered how many of these servants Pavoni had forced himself upon. The man was vile.