Sky and Storm ( Warriors of Vis #1)(38)

The fake concern and sweetness in the man’s voice and the meaning of his words sent Sky into a frenzy. He shouted, cursed, and pulled on his ties as hard as he could. It didn’t do much, except hurt and exhaust him, but he couldn’t just lie there and take whatever fate the man has decided for him.

“You sit there and wait for me, pretty prince. I’ll be by later, to give you that dicking I promised.”

Sky shouted until he lost his voice. Even then, he resorted to grunts and whatever sounds he could still make. He kept pulling on his restraints until he felt warm blood on his skin. He couldn’t stop. Sky couldn’t lie there, waiting for them to come and rape him. He was going to pull on those damned ropes until they budged. Too soon, he passed out.

***

WHEN SKY AWOKE, he was alone. The room seemed less cold, which should have made him feel better, but it didn’t. If they suddenly decided to take care of him, that would ruin his plans of dying before they got their ugly hands on him.

Sky listened for any sounds, but there was nothing to reveal where his enemies were. There was the general clanging, neighing, and trudging mixture of sounds that was normal for a battle camp, but nothing else. No clear voices for Sky to at least know who they were or from where. Or at least where he was being held. If he was good for nothing but a body to be used to them, Sky would at least get all the information he could. Maybe he’d hunt them down and kill them one by one before ending his own life.

This was pure torture. Knowing what was coming, but not knowing when. Sky strained to pick any move outside, to guess when they’d head for his tent to enforce the threat the man from earlier had made. The more time passed, the more Sky allowed himself to believe the stranger had only meant to scare him. Then he remembered the harsh slap and that he was tied up, spread out and naked. Or, the most frightening truth, that this wasn’t about Sky. It was about hurting Storm. Their recent bliss had shown everyone what or who was the most important in the world to the Dragon. It might have made Sky’s heart swell, but it had also shown all Storm’s enemies how to hurt him the deepest.

If he were honest, Sky didn’t understand why some people hated Storm. Of course, there were former rulers who seethed with a need for revenge, but these people weren’t noblemen. They were dirty soldiers who would have been treated much better under Storm’s rule.

Because Vis had been on such a long conquering campaign and afterward needed to leave troops behind to defend conquered lands, it didn’t pay to be a mercenary. It paid better to be part of Storm’s army. With so many subjects to feed, farmers always had somewhere to sell their goods, and Storm’s and his father’s policy had always been fairness.

No, Sky doubted these people lived under Storm’s rule. He’d even began to doubt the recent rebellions. These were hungry mercenaries, people sent to disrupt Vis. Otherwise, it made no sense.

Laughter outside snapped Sky out of his thoughts. It sounded familiar. Was it the man from earlier, coming to fulfill his promise? Sky shivered and braced himself, he wasn’t going to make it easy for him. He would move around, and clench and make it impossible for the man to ever feel like Sky offered or enjoyed it.

A long time passed before the tent flap door whooshed open. His throat went dry and his heart picked up speed, drumming a hectic rhythm against his chest.

“Were you waiting for me, princeling? Looking forward to this?”

The table under him creaked.

“Struggle and scream all you want, no one will come.” The man laughed and Sky felt coarse leg hair brushing against his skin.

Fuck, he was getting on the table! No, this couldn’t happen. Sky put all his remaining strength into pulling on his restraints. It was now or never. He either pulled his hands free or he’d be soiled by this brute.

The man’s hands landed on either side of Sky’s head. His stench was unbearable this close. The man pressed down, his cock brushing against Sky’s butt. Sky’s stomach turned. If it hadn’t been empty, he would have vomited. Sky stilled, all his muscles tensing. Sky looked away from the man’s disgusting hand, dirty, battered, and reddened by the cold outside. He focused on the dirty tent cloth, straining to keep everything tight and clenched.

“Relax, you useless piece of shit!” The man slapped Sky’s ass.

The pain only made Sky wind up tighter, suddenly thankful for the grueling training he’d been forced through by Eagle. Before that, he would have given in much sooner.

“Do it, or I will whip you bloody,” the man threatened.

Sky grunted and shut his eyes, shaking his head. He didn’t care what happened. He’d take the pain, whatever it took, but he wouldn’t be a willing participant. No one would dare say Sky had ever wanted it.

Warm liquid spilled on Sky’s back. His eyes snapped open just as the weight of the man on top of him fell to the ground. His shoulder and arm blocked his view.

“I found you, my love,” a voice cracked by pain and tears said. Storm’s voice.

Sky sobbed, tears rushing down his face. Relief and shame warred inside him, and beyond that conflict, an unmatched happiness at knowing Storm had arrived on time lingered.

“He… he didn’t touch me,” Sky said. “I didn’t let him. I didn’t want it.”

Sky’s ties were cut free. Strong arms picked him up. A cloak was thrown and fastened around his body, but all Sky could focus on was the muddy, unclear sight of Storm. Sky wanted to stop crying, to see Storm’s face. But he couldn’t, the sobs wouldn’t stop.