Chosen (The Warrior Chronicles #1)(42)

“I’m fascinated, both by the news and also by the randomness of this continued conversation.” Shanti continued to stare out the window.

“In addition to setting up a possible trade route, they inquired if we had seen a young woman pass this way. They described her as not exactly beautiful, but visually arresting. Tall, light features and hair, regal…”

Shanti had turned to the Captain, her eyes on fire, her face devoid of all color. Fear lurked just behind the death in her eyes.

“They said she was the wife of their Lord,” the Captain went on in a smooth voice. “She was apparently taken by a hostile party when traveling and was now feared lost. They are searching for her. They brought her up before I could ask about you, as a matter of fact…”

Shanti stared, a rigid figure in a loose robe standing in front of a bright window. Her eyes started to glow faintly. The room condensed and blazed. Spikes of pain assaulted him. His bones started to vibrate until they felt like they were cracking. His skull was too tight. His eyes sandy and raw.

The Captain’s eyebrows crawled down the bridge of his nose like two caterpillars. He stood slowly, his whole body flexed, the thick cords of muscles making ropes and ditches down his arms, legs and torso. “They mentioned she had violet eyes.”

A thick pulse of electric energy flashed into Sanders. He could swear his skin was peeling off. Her eyes were glowing more now, power within them dancing, the air in the room forcing his breath out in painful gasps. His brain started to buzz, slowly at first, then like knives were scraping against it. Needles stabbed into his ears. He clutched at his skull, the deep ache exploding out, forcing out a scream.

A second later he was devoid of pain. Panting. Scared—he’d never been so scared in all his life. He huddled in the corner. What the hell had just happened?

A second after that he felt invisible hands crawl up his body. Small, tickling spirals, trailing up the small hairs on his inner thighs. He brushed at his legs. Nothing was there. But it felt like something was there. Like a caress, firm and loving.

He gulped loudly, patting at the feeling. Trying to wipe it off. What the--

No, now he had never been so scared in all his life. Especially since that tickle felt so, so f**king good.

An invisible hand cupped his ball sack. He yelped, dancing around the floor, swatting at his nuts. Something lightly stroked his dick.

He froze.

It was logically uncomfortable, the pressure from invisible hands. Soon logic was gone, though. He couldn’t think past the rubbing. Pain he could ignore, but this…

The pressure. Where was it coming from?

It wasn’t a real person, did he care?

Oh… he probably should…

He fell back against the wall with his eyes closed. This was wrong. Whatever was happening was not good. Except it felt good. He couldn’t stop—he wanted to—

Another blast of pain cut through the pleasure. A flash of light burst behind his eyes. He staggered against the wall, blinded momentarily with the hot spikes of pain.

“ENOUGH!”

It sounded like the Captain, but Sanders couldn’t focus. His c**k was hard, his head felt like someone had stabbed a knife through his forehead—what…the f**k…was happening in this room? Every time he had to deal with the woman, something like this happened. Every time.

Why was it always him? Why didn’t the Captain give someone else a turn to deal with her?

Sanders glanced at the door. He might just brave the Captain’s punishment for leaving right now.

Chapter 22

Shanti watched the Captain approach slowly, his eyes trying to hide the fear. She had been too weak to kill him from even a few spans and was afraid to touch him. He learned fast. Touching would make her ten times more powerful, but him as well. If he tried to block, or reciprocate, she would struggle, and he could then snap her neck. She had no weapons and could barely stand. She was practically defenseless.

“If you turn me over to them I will kill myself immediately, leaving you with nothing to trade,” she said in a seething whisper, trying to keep herself upright.

He stopped directly in front of her. “How?”

“By reversing what I just did to you.”

“Were you intending to kill me just then?”

“You’ve caught me at a bad time. You’re lucky.”

“Why shouldn’t I turn you in and take my chances? They’re offering me a sweet deal. The amount of money they’re throwing at me, at this city, is staggering. They even offered to end our troubles with the Mugdock. Our people would be safe. Trading you would be to our advantage.”

Shanti’s stomach twisted. “They are offering you slavery. They don’t trade, they own. You, as a leader, are too powerful. You would be killed immediately. Your army, as you call it, would be destroyed or taken into their ranks. Your people would be spread apart so you couldn’t band together. The prettiest in your city would be taken—you’ll be told they’ll be put up in the best houses, given the best schools, then can come back when they are enlightened. Instead, they will be granted to the seniority battle commanders or government to play with. Some will go to the ranked men to be used. They have all sorts of interests, women are just one. Little boys are a favorite. Watching torture, bestiality, whipping—they love fresh meat, no matter the flavor.

“And that’s if you don’t reveal what you are. As soon as you lose control and fill the room with a display of power, they will know. Then you will be taken. Drugged. You are handsome and well built, so the rich women and men will want to use you. Their leader likes men—he likes to take other leaders by force as he captures their cities, but with your Hasneas—your Gift—he won’t be able to. He can still drug you and chain you to his bed, though. You will like it. You will like what—“