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  • Possessions Ch. 09

Possessions Ch. 09

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Here is Chapter 9! This is the wrap-up of Alaliya's back story as well as a glimpse of the not so nice side of the Keepers. Next chapter we will get back to Sarantha and Trivalm, but for some reason, Alaliya demanded that her story be told as well!

Sadly, my Beta reader has been out of touch long enough that I am looking for a new one! If you are interested, send me a message! If you comment as Anonymous I have no way to respond!

As always, THANK YOU for reading and I hope you enjoy!

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Ehrik looked down at his sister, pale and still on the bed. His heart clenched. Fear was not an emotion he often felt, but the last four weeks had held nothing but terror for him. For the last four weeks his sister had not left her bed. She had woken only sporadically and never for more than a few moments, usually not even long enough to nurse her child. The babe was in the room, never far from her mother, but being nursed by a midwife. Sarantha would be enraged when she found out.

For the first two weeks, Sarantha had continued to bleed. Not much, but more than was normal, enough that she was unwell. The King's Healer, Kyrsti, had checked her daily, but had been unable to find the source of the bleeding. Two weeks passed before she used an odd tool and herbs to force open Sarantha's birthing channel open to do a more thorough inspection. Even through the herbs, the pain had woken the sleeping woman, but the Healer had ignored her screams of agony as her assistants restrained her. Only today, two weeks after the Kyrsti had sutured the gash she eventually found, had she pronounced the wound sufficiently healed. She claimed that Sarantha would now, with much rest and proper nourishment, begin to recover.

He watched as his wife stroked Sarantha's hair back off of her face. Alaliya had been absent in their own bedroom, and as much as it shamed him, he was becoming resentful. He missed his wife. She bathed in Sarantha's personal tub, ate her meals next to the bed, and spent any spare time caring for Sarantha, combing her hair, cleansing her skin. She had not spoken a single word to him that did not somehow pertain to their ill sister. Not once in the past four weeks had she initiated physical contact with him. She didn't protest when he held her, or when he kissed her. But it was obvious that his once passionate wife was removed from those acts, her attention elsewhere.

Alaliya was militant in who she would allow into the room. In the first week, much of her time had been taken up keeping Ivory from disturbing the sleeping woman. Anytime the little blond was in the room, she was climbing on the bed, trying to press closer to her Mistress. The few times Sarantha was awake long enough to hold the baby girl, Ivory had slid from where she rested on her Mistress's legs to try to nuzzle her way into her owner's embrace. Once, when Sarantha was lucid long enough to attempt to nurse, the little slave had almost knocked the child from its mother's arms. Enraged, Alaliya had ordered the slave removed, and Ebon had instantly obeyed, whisking his charge away. Later, she made it clear to a scowling Ebon that if Ivory continued to appear a threat to the child, even inadvertently, she would be punished. Everybody knew that Alaliya wouldn't date lash one of Sarantha's pets, but they also knew that Alaliya didn't need to; she was exceptionally imaginative. Ehrik, trying to avoid any additional stress for all parties involved, slyly intervened without contradicting his wife and now both slaves were only permitted in the room when they were locked in their cage.

Trivalm had also been removed; there was no reason for the slave to be in the room with the recovering woman. He now acted as one of Ehrik's slaves under Kriel's watchful eye until Sarantha was well enough to reclaim him. The three slaves were restricted to their room unless Kriel was kind enough to escort them to the training rooms. According to the Captain, the men enjoyed their time in the training rooms, always pushing themselves hard in their physical activity and adapting well to the style of training different than what they had known. They had even been permitted to spar with several of the soldiers. Ehrik assumed it was an outlet for their frustrations at being confined. Even so, he approved of the slaves' dedication. He wanted them in good condition. He had no use of trophy slaves; they were little more than breathing vases that required food. If he could convince the war Generals that their lives were not as desolate as they now believed, then he could allow them freedoms. They could be personal slaves and even be assigned pseudo-positions in the military beneath him. They would never hold rank, but respect was so much more important than rank. That fool Milier was proof of that. He knew the slaves were probably scheming, speculating possible escape, if not for themselves then for their Queen, but he didn't care.

Kriel also reported that Trivalm inquired over Sarantha's health daily and was unsatisfied with the answers the Captain gave him. The slave had asked to see his Mistress regularly, and only relented when Kriel threatened punishment by way of herbs. Only once had Sarantha asked that her "little slave" be allowed to rejoin Ebon and Ivory and all three be returned to her, but Ehrik had denied her. Thankfully, she'd been far too tired to argue, only murmuring that the King's Healer would agree with her. The Healer, having overheard the exchange, hadn't acknowledged the request beyond a roll of her eyes.

More often than not, when she woke, Sarantha was too exhausted to speak. That didn't stop her from calling out in her sleep, and when she did it broke Ehrik's heart. She called for Kellir, for her husband. Tears would leak from her closed eyes when her hands would reach for him and find only empty space.

Ehrik missed his younger brother. Since they were children, Ehrik had cared for Kellir. Their mother was not affectionate; bearing children had been nothing more than a duty. Their father had loved them and was determined to see them raised correctly. But he was a soldier of the late King's army. He had no idea how to show his affection for his children other than with harsh discipline. When the boys did well, they could always look to their father and see pride shining in his eyes. However, when they failed, their punishments were more severe than any soldier had ever suffered. Those punishments had left scars. Ehrik's father had died before the King, so he wasn't humiliated as the other officers were when Jecis relieved several of them of their posts. Keepers were no longer required to be Generals, though at present all four Golden Keepers were, and ranks could no longer be inherited. Ranks had to be earned, and officers were no longer permitted to promote any within their families. Jecis had changed so many laws in his time as King; Ehrik wasn't sure if his strict father would have been able to adapt to them.

The King had stayed for two weeks after the child's birth. He went to Sarantha's room more often than was appropriate, but none dared question him. Eventually though, he had been forced to return to the Capital. But not before he had kept to his word and seen to Allek and Trivalm's punishments. Jecis has insisted that he was capable of seeing to a single slave's punishment while Ehrik saw to Sarantha, skillfully taking the decision of the severity of punishment from Ehrik's hands. True to his word, the King's punishment for Allek had been lenient, only five lashings with a soft leather flogger. The Captain willingly returned to his duties the next day and the welts had lasted only a few days. Trivalm, however, had received thirty with a much harsher instrument. The King doled out the punishment true to his word to Sarantha. The slave's punishment for his disrespect had been lenient, only five lashing. The other twenty-five had been for threatening Sarantha. The slave hadn't been able to move for a week and there would be severe scarring. Ehrik, feeling the punishment had been a bit excessive but not daring to question his King, had been kind enough to send Melil and a Healer to the slave.

Jecis had left the young Healer, Kyrsti, and all of her assistants behind in the Keepers' care to see to Sarantha's health. The Healer only left Sarantha's room to sleep and bathe and she always left at least three of her assistants behind in addition to Alaliya to ensure Sarantha was properly cared for.

And now Sarantha was cared for. She was as healthy as was possible at the moment, and only time would improve her condition. Ehrik wanted his wife back.

"My love." When Alaliya didn't respond, Ehrik walked to her side, taking her face in his hands and forcing her to look at him. "Come, my precious wife. There is nothing more we can do for her. The Healer is here; our sister is well cared for. Come, my heart."

Alaliya didn't look happy, but she was exhausted and ultimately obeyed. Ehrik pretended not to notice how heavily she leaned on him as they walked the short distance back to their room. Even if she wouldn't admit it, he could see how exhausted she was. After four weeks of little to no sleep, not eating nearly enough, and constant worry, how could she not be exhausted? She walked directly to the bed and crawled into it, not bothering to remove her clothing. Ehrik hadn't even made it to her side before she was asleep.

Sighing, realizing that he would not be making love to his wife as he had planned, Ehrik slowly removed his wife's clothing, careful not to wake her. Gently, he pulled a blanket to her shoulders and pressed a gentle kiss to her brow.

He spent a long time simply looking down at her, thanking the sweet Goddess he had been so blessed as to have her at his side. She was so beautiful. So loving, for those who were lucky enough to find a place in her heart. She would be such a wonderful mother, loving and attentive. And may the sweet Goddess protect any idiot unwise enough to attempt harm to her child! He almost laughed at the thought of what his wife would do to the fool.

He placed another gentle kiss to Alaliya's forehead before leaving the room. His wife would most likely sleep for hours. He wanted to be sure her surprise was ready for her when she did.

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Run! Run!

Even as her mind screeched at her, Alaliya could do nothing but stare. She begged her legs to carry her away, but it was as if they no longer heeded her commands.

Ehrik smiled, holding his hand out to her. "Come, darling."

Alaliya, terror gripping her, mutely shook her head. She flinched when Ehrik stepped toward her, his smile turning to a frown. Even so, he did not allow her reaction to interfere in his intent. Gently, as if he might damage her, he pulled her to the cross. She expected to be pushed against it and strapped in, but instead Ehrik turned so his own back was pressed to the wooden restraint. He held his arms up in the proper position.

"Bind me."

Alaliya had no idea what to think. She shook her head. This had to be a trick. "Why?"

Ehrik have a short, wry laugh. "Because, beloved, you fear me. You fear I will cause you harm. You flinch when I reach for you and weep when I hold you. You are not comfortable with the feel of my body against yours. This is unacceptable to me. You do not know the control you have over my body, and so you will learn. You will bind me, and you will take all the time you require to explore me, learn my body, and discover your own power. And you will do so without fear of harm. Now, bind me."

She didn't move for a moment, contemplating her options. With him bound, she may be able to escape, make it to the dungeons and out of the Keep. Her decision made, Alaliya stepped forward. Her hands trembled as she reached toward the Keeper's wrist, but as soon as her fingers made contact with the thick leather, muscle memory took over and she quickly and efficiently bound him. He remained silent even as his eyes tracked her every move, smiling as she secured the last strap. Before she could turn toward the door though, he spoke.

"The door is secured from the outside where Kriel stands guard." It was said casually, nonchalantly, as if her attempting escape was of absolutely no concern to him. He smiled, a small, welcoming smile. "Come, darling. Explore me knowing that I am incapable of causing you harm. Learn my body as I will learn yours."

Alaliya knew he purposely pitched his voice low. It was smooth, hypnotic, compelling her to obey his directive. And she did. She ran her hands over his arms, over his muscled chest through his shirt, over his thighs. She couldn't reach lower than that, and she refused to go to her knees before him. She watched his reactions even as she indulged her own curiosity. She was a Dungeon Mistress, an interrogator; he had no idea what he'd just allowed. Within the hour, she had him panting, moaning and shaking. The more he responded, the more her curiosity grew.

Pausing, Alaliya looked at his heaving chest. She wondered if the skin on his chest was as smooth as the skin on his neck and face, if it held scars the way his arms did. He reacted so much more obviously when she stroked his skin. She wondered if it would make a difference what area of bare skin she stroked. Slowly, she pushed his shirt up to display his hard abdomen.

"Cut it off. Knife. On my calf." His head was thrown back, but when she didn't comply, he lifted it and looked directly in her eyes. "Cut my clothes off, Alaliya." It was the first time he'd said her name.

Still holding his gaze, Alaliya crouched. She purposely trailed her fingers along his shin as she lifted his pant leg and unsheathed the razor sharp dagger she found. Slowly, she came to her feet, turning it so the light caught the blade. "What a fool, to allow me a blade when you are so helpless." She ran the tip of the sharp steel along his jaw with enough pressure to leave a mark, but not hard enough to actually cut. She trailed it to his throat. "I could slice your veins and lave you to bleed to death." Anger flared in her eyes. "I should slit your throat!"

The bastard had the audacity to grin at her. "And tell me, precious, would you do that before you after I fucked you? Spread those delicious thighs and feasted on your nectar until you screamed out my name in your orgasm and bathed my face in your sweet juices?"

Alaliya glared, the last years flashing through her mind. She held the dagger more firmly to his throat, but didn't slice.

Ehrik leaned his head forward as far as he could in his bonds. "There is too much between us for you to harm me and as much as it may enrage you, you know it!"

Alaliya snarled at him. She refused to acknowledge that he was right, but that did not change the fact that he was.

Suddenly, she smiled and for the first time, Ehrik felt a slight pang of unease. Without allowing her smile to waver, Alaliya did as directed and cut off his shirt, allowing several strips of fabric to float to the ground, but also retaining several large pieces.

"You obviously don't appreciate the freedoms you have, which, at the moment, aren't many."

Bound as he was, Ehrik was unable to stop her from using the strip to blindfold him. When he opened began to protect, another strip was stuffed in his mouth and secured by a length of fabric around his head.

"And you talk far too much."

Alaliya could see the General mentally calm himself. She smirked, even though he couldn't see her. It must be so different than he was used to, being so helpless. And she wasn't even done with him. Taking another strip, she wrapped it around his head, covering his ears. On the second pass around she added large wads of ruined fabric to muffle the sounds even more.

Secretly, under the Dungeon Mistress exterior she could so easily don, Alaliya was relieved. She was nervous in his presence. Now though, with him bound, blind and deaf, she could relax slightly. She could do as she desired without fear of him seeing her discomfort, her trepidation or, most importantly, her awe. And she was in awe of him. His body was pure perfection. His abdomen was flat and hard. He did not have exaggerated lines over his belly, as some men did, but soft ones that suited him. His chest was muscled and perfectly angled for a woman to rest her head on. His arms, as she'd already noted, were strong and muscled, thicker than one of her thighs. His entire upper body with the exception of his arms was well groomed. She ran her hands over each body part as she appraised him, appreciating the freedom to do so without scrutiny. She nearly forgot this was meant to be his punishment.

She glanced up at his face, suddenly shy, as her hands feathered over his hips to tease the belt of his pants. She needn't have bothered to look. As soon as her fingers skimmed the fabric, Ehrik's hips jerked forward and he moaned behind his gag. Startled, Alaliya pulled her hands away. Ehrik continued to press his hips forward, nodding his head and trying to speak. Alaliya considered removing the gag for only a moment. She was starting to have fun. If she took it out he would start to spout orders, as he was obviously attempting to do now. No, better to leave it in.

Slowly, teasingly, she traced the tip of the knife over his tense abdomen. She would have liked to think he was the only one affected by the proceedings, but she knew that would have been a lie. The curious heat was back in her belly. All she wanted to do was find a way to release the pressure that was building there. She just didn't know how, but she suspected that he did. There was a trick to this, some ulterior motive so that he thought he was the one still in control. If this were all a game, she was sure as hell going to have her fun in it too. With a flick of her wrist, the belt of his pants was cut through and his pants sagged low on his thighs.

Alaliya didn't move, couldn't think, for several minutes. She didn't notice the way his breathing increased, or the pained look on his face, or the way he trembled. Her entire attention was on the hard column of flesh the jutted proudly from the smooth, groomed skin now displayed. It was long and hard, with veins decorating it in an enticing spider web display. She had seen them occasionally in the Dungeons, but only from a distance, never this close, and she had certainly never been actively looking at them. In fact, she had pointedly avoided looking at them, not finding them interesting, but rather disgusting.

But this one... This one was not disgusting. It was magnificent.

With a trembling hand, Alaliya reached her hand toward it. As soon as her fingers brushed the soft flesh, it jerked. Alaliya jumped back, a small squeak escaping her. She watched, wide eyed, as Ehrik pulled at his bonds, incoherent noise coming through his gag. His cock continued to bob as he struggled. Ehrik's apparent lack of control only served to remind Alaliya that she was in fact the one holding all of the control in this situation. Finally, she managed to calm herself enough to attempt to continue.

Glancing at his face, ensuring that he could not see her, Alaliya went to her knees, intending to cut the pants from Ehrik's legs. On her knees, his member was, quite literally, right in front of her face. With her nose so close to his groin, she couldn't help but inhale his musky scent, holding it in for a moment. Soon though, she became light headed, though from the lack of air or from the intoxicating aroma, she didn't know, and exhaled in a whoosh.

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