The Healer Pt. 10

A note from After Dusk...

Please don't hate me. There is still a long way to go on our journey with these characters and I'd hate to lose readers now because this part will probably be rough for some of you.

That being said, please vote and comment or message me, I enjoy the feedback.

-AD

*****

Her head is pounding. Her body is cold, she feels it seeping up from the stone beneath her. There is a damp moisture in the air. Slowly, she opens her eyes, everything is blurred and out of focus. She can feel something stroking her cheek, hushed whispers that finally make sense in her foggy head.

"Coral, wake up," Vadim says. The very tips of his fingers touch her face.

As her eyes focus, she sees his arm stretched out to her; he is lying on the stone ground as well, sprawled out as he tried to reach her body to make contact. She forces herself sit up, bracing her hands on the ground when it begins to tilt around her. Slowly, as everything starts to clear up, she gets a look at her surroundings.

It is a cave, of sorts. The two walls behind her and Vadim are rough, damp, raw stone stretching thirty feet up before bowing over. The other two walls are thick, tarnished metal bars; she makes out a door, locked. There are only a few torches around lighting the cavern, all of which are outside of the large cell. Casting shadows on the areas beyond, she sees shapes of tables and such but can't discern anything specific. She turns her gaze over to Vadim; his boots gone, ankles shackled with thick cuffs, each with a ring out of one side. A large chain bolted to the wall runs through the cuff of his right ankle and secures to the left one, allowing him a wide stance if he were to stand close to the wall, but pulling his legs together if he were to stand away. It seems to be meant to cobble a centaur.

She realizes now that he is sprawled out on the stone floor because she was just beyond his reach otherwise; he did what he could to stretch out to her, trying to wake her. As he sits up there is relief on his face that she is conscious; he scoots with his back to the wall, pulling his knees up into a sitting position.

Coral, still woozy, half crawls over to him, the stone floor beneath her bites into her palms and through her gray dress. With a chill down to her bones, she sits almost inappropriately close to the only one trapped with her, seeking comfort and solace after being treated so harshly and stolen away from the safety and security of her mate and their guards. Vadim instinctively wraps his arm around her, drawing her closer, both realizing that a prison cell is hardly a place for propriety. She allows him the gesture and slowly lets her head drift to rest on his shoulder. She breathes his scent—it is different from Quell's but familiar to her none the less, reminiscent of their brief intimate encounter that now seems like it was years ago.

When she tries to remember how she got here, she recalls the sickening crack of something over Vadim's head, of seeing his body crumple to the ground. She turns to face him and reaches up with her hands, gingerly feeling his skull through the thick cords of coarse hair that are half pulled back at the nape of his neck. She is relieved to discover no fracture, only drying blood.

"I don't suppose you know where we are?" He asks her once she has finished. He gazes into her bright green eyes for the briefest of moments before returning his face forward, looking out upon their cell.

"No," she says, settling back into her spot underneath his arm, returning her cheek to his shoulder, finding that she is surprisingly comfortable against him again, "after you were knocked out, someone grabbed me from behind. I couldn't breathe and I blacked out."

"Do you know who it was? I never saw anyone coming."

She thinks on it, "No I do not, but it was a man," she remembers the feeling of bare skin and shaggy fur mashed against her back and ass, "and he was a centaur."

They sit in silence, unsure of what their future holds, taking a small amount of solace at being alone in each other's company. Coral reaches across her chest, sliding her fingers into Vadim's hand of the arm encircling her. She dreads discovering who brought them here—no doubt the centaurs responsible for raping the maidens are the same ones blatant enough to kidnap a Prince and his younger brother's mate from the castle. At least she thinks she knows who is not involved as they left a crowd of aroused centaurs behind them when they made an attempt to retreat to their room.

Without anything else to focus on, she repeats the events of the day in her head, the taxing meetings with the abused women. With the exception of the last town they visited, each of the women were clearly terrified of the centaurs, which she expected, though several seemed more afraid of Quell. She found it odd then and she finds it odd now—it is true, he is a very imposing creature. He is tall and strong, his face handsome and eyes piercing. There have been times when the mere sight of her mate becoming aroused sparked a deep fear within her; she knew he would never hurt her but when his long thick cock dropped menacingly towards the floor and he got a sultry, lusty look in his eyes he would draw himself up even taller, almost prance before her, strutting to her, like he was a predator stalking prey. She swallows hard, not wanting to know what a savage centaur would look like, how terrifying of a creature they would be when they became aroused and had no reservations of kindness to them.

When the familiar clicking of hooves on stone echoes throughout the chamber, a chill crawls up Coral's spine, her heart pounding fiercely in horrified anticipation to discover the culprits of the atrocities that have plagued Centurion for over a year. Part of her wishes they would never come, that they would let Vadim and her starve to death—but the other part of her wishes to get it over with. She doesn't know what they will do with her or to her yet she knows that Quell, Tomir, Junta and the others will not rest until they find her and Vadim. Unfortunately, her outlook is grim because they had no luck figuring it out before.

The shadows of three centaurs appear, slowly walking towards the cell. She realizes that their suspicions were correct, it was a small group of rogues. However, as they come closer to the door, into the light cast by the torches, Coral feels like she is going to vomit.

"You are a complete idiot. I told you, only grab the Prince. Who's fault is this?" Callen's voice snaps. Coral's heart feels like it is wretched from her body. She starts to grow cold when the panic rises in her chest—did Yulnar know that his son was raping women? Did his mate know about it? Why would they want Vadim and not her?

"We tried but he was never left alone, they made sure of that; this is the only time he has been without a centaur so I made the decision to take them both," one of other centaurs responds. With his shaggy brown coat, unkempt hair and beard, Coral recognizes him as one of the guards that was standing outside the castle the day they arrived, with the other centaur the second guard. The bile rises in her throat and she is barely able to force it back down—they aren't rogues, they're part of the royal guard and the Prince—she reasons that no, Yulnar doesn't know or he wouldn't have asked Rainer for help. The fact that the future ruler of this country is the one responsible for commiting these atrocious acts doesn't bode well for it. Perhaps Tomir was correct, they should be left alone to fade from existence.

Callen turns to the guard, disproval on his face, his eyes dark and almost feral. Without hesitating, he unsheathes a knife from belt around his waist and jams it into the centaur's upper ribcage, piercing through his bare skin and straight into his heart. Callen shoves him aside, maintaining the grip on his knife while the centaur collapses. With a sneer, the Prince leans down and wipes the blood from the blade and onto the brown hide below him. The guard wheezes a few more breaths before falling silent.

"Open it up," Callen snaps to the other centaur before sheathing his knife again.

As the guard opens the gate, Coral starts to tremble. She has seen creatures die before, she has even killed animals—but never a man or centaur and never without need or purpose. She feels sick, knowing exactly why those women refused to speak—they were terrified and rightfully so. It is clear that nothing will prevent Callen from getting what he wants.

She feels Vadim's protective grip on her tighten, pulling her close to his body, trying to shield her, to save her. But when the centaurs enter, his efforts are virtually useless; the guard snatches her up, easily tearing her from Vadim's arms. Her body shakes uncontrollably. Vadim immediately rises to his feet. There is a fierce determination, a terrifyingly dominant commanding look in his eyes resembling the powerful intimidation that his father comes by naturally. He makes a move towards Coral, to get her back but is halted when he stumbles as the chains hobble his feet together.

Callen slowly walks in, ignoring Vadim's indignation. His bright blue eyes wander over Coral's body, a haughty air following him naturally. His deep voice has a pleasant aristocratic lilt to it despite the words that come out, "I am sorry my lady but this was strictly an accident; you weren't meant to be here."

"Then let us go and we can all pretend it was a mistake," Vadim's voice is dark, threatening. He stands tall, his wide chest heaving, fire burning in his eyes.

Shaking his head, Callen turns to Vadim with a slight smirk, "You misunderstand—she wasn't meant to be here. This was just supposed to be a discussion between you and I, cousin; however, I'm never one to throw away an opportunity. Give me the elixir recipe and your sister won't get hurt."

Coral struggles against the centaur that holds her, trying to bolt for the open cell door to leave and get help but he lowers his grip, wrapping his arms around her biceps and torso, tucking them under her breasts, immobilizing her from the waist up. Still, she doesn't give up and squirms against him. When he squeezes tighter, she lets out a painful cry.

Vadim's eyes widen in rage, his voice booming, "Let her go!"

He pulls back his arm and launches his fist forward, his desire to cause harm evident; Callen isn't quick enough to dodge it and the punch lands, splitting his lip. He spits out blood, immediately rearing his blonde front legs up and kicking Vadim back. Vadim stumbles, feet tangled in the chains and falls to the ground. Callen does not hesitate to place a front hoof on his cousin's forearm, pinning it there. Slowly, the centaur leans his weight forward, "Give me the recipe," Callen threatens.

Vadim grabs Callen's leg behind the knee and tries to buckle his stance but Callen shifts his weight down. The sickening snap of Vadim's forearm breaking is preceded by his wail of agony.

"Stop!" Coral cries out, tears streaking down her face, her eyes glued on Vadim who clenches his jaw at the pain.

Callen looks at her, a sinister smirk on his thin lips. With a hasty glance back at his cousin, he walks to Coral. Reaching out, he strokes the side of her cheek; she turns her face away from him. "Will you give me the recipe, cousin?" He asks Vadim, letting his hand trail down her neck, fingers gently brushing the exposed flesh of her breasts.

"Callen!" Vadim snarls, "This is between you and I—leave her out of this!"

A chuckle escapes his lips, his fingers teasing the plushness of her breasts through the gray dress; his hand suddenly opens and he roughly grabs her mounds. A startled, choked scream comes out of Coral and she can't refrain from kicking out at him with both feet, trying to push his large beast frame away from her.

Callen laughs at her efforts, hands pushing her legs down between his front ones. He grabs her dress, bunching it up in his hands until he can feel her soft, smooth thighs. He ignores Vadim's growls and threats while his narrow fingers linger on her pale flesh, creeping up and up towards her hips—suddenly, he stops, a curious look on his face. He withdraws, letting her dress fall back down over her legs. Callen reaches forward, slipping a hand into her pocket. He fishes around in the fabric before pulling away and opening his fist to reveal a blue vial.

"What is this?" He says, his eyes glancing between the small glass bottle and Coral. He tilts his head to the side as the realization crosses his mind, "Of course—a fool I was to think that a centaur would bother to come up with that elixir, when it should have been so obvious to me that the one familiar with the ingredients would be the creator."

Coral's heart almost stops, she can feel the coldness of panic creeping into her hands and feet. She clenches her jaw, trying to steel her nerves while she watches Callen uncork the vial.

He takes a whiff. He closes his eyes, a soft moan escapes his lips, a shudder ripples through his shaggy hide. As the dark scent wafts around the cell, the centaur behind her stiffens; Vadim draws in a large breath and immediately his eyes grow wide when he recognizes the scent of the original elixir Coral created in Severton.

A smile crosses Callen's lips, his voice a seductive purr, "It is different from the one your mate gave my father, but why don't we give it a try none the less?"

The color drains from Coral's face. "No," is all she can say.

"Do not do this Callen!" Vadim growls, cradling his arm while he forces himself to stand, "I swear on everything I hold dear, if you do this, you are dead!"

Unconcerned, Callen grabs Coral's wrist, prying her free from the guard. She pulls against him, digging her heels into the stone, trying to break his grasp but she can't match his brute strength. He half drags her from the cell, stepping over the dead centaur. "Clean this up," he orders the guard.

The guard, disappointed that he doesn't get to watch, grabs the dead centaur by his hind legs, dragging him backwards and out of the cave, leaving a streak of blood across the stone floor.

Sobbing, Coral fights him as hard as she can, horrified as he yanks her over to a mounting stand. The stand looks older than anything she has seen and reminds her of the first Adger Gladstone book she read when she arrived—it is outfitted with straps and buckles to keep a woman from escaping.

Bracing her foot on the base of the stand, she tries to use the leverage to break free or even kick the stand over but it is secured to the ground. Unnervingly adept at it, Coral realizes that Callen has a lot of experiencing restraining a woman who is fighting back; despite her efforts, her hands are bound to the head of the stand.

"No, please, don't do this," she sobs, trying to position herself as far away from Callen as possible.

He pauses his attack, struggling to get his mind clear of the arousing effects of the elixir to remember his original purpose. His chest rises and falls as he pants in anticipation; he looks down at the bottle in his hands, a wicked smile growing on his lips, "Will you give me the recipe?"

Her body deflates a little; she says nothing.

Licking his lips, he reaches out and strokes the side of her face, "It is all right, Coral. A few days, maybe a week and you'll relent."

His narrow fingers trail down her pale neck to the exposed bit of her cleavage. Coming together, his hands grasp the fabric and in one violent pull, he tears it down the front, exposing her naked body. His hazy eyes wander over her plush, full breasts, down the softness of her stomach, the fullness of her hips and thighs, the bright red patch of soft hair at their apex. Though she tries to get away, his hands clamp down over her waist and he lifts her up, roughly dropping her down into position on the stand. He throws the loose fabric of her dress forward, free of her head and shoulders, her arms still in the sleeves, the scraps of her dress piling around her elbows leaving her naked back and ass exposed. Quickly sliding a strap around her middle and buckling it, he prevents her from moving long enough that he can buckle straps just under her armpits and around her thighs and calves.

Coral is restrained, fully exposed to Callen, the cold damp air assaulting her hot skin, her body spread open and unprotected from his eyes. She chokes down the urge to vomit, her frantic crying wracking her entire body. She makes one last, final plea, "Callen, don't—I'm pregnant." The dark, robust, earthy and secretive scent of the elixir hits her nose as he uncorks the bottle again.

A throaty, husky laugh comes before his deep voice, "That is supposed to be a deterrent? Not only will I get the recipe from you but now I can possibly kill an heir to the throne of Centuarna. No, Coral, that only makes me want you more."

She feels the warmth of his fingers on her cunt, roughly rubbing the fluid into her skin. The icy heat of it hits her body like a shockwave, almost immediately causing her to tingle. She bites down on her tongue, fighting the urges that the elixir sends through her. Callen's fingers harshly violate her hole, pushing the elixir deeper into her body.

Letting out a half sob, half moan, the yearning builds in her lower back. Her cunt pulses, wanting to be filled. His shaggy fur scrapes its way across her skin while he walks forward over her; she can feel the wide flat tip of his cock pressing at her entrance. She cries out when Callen harshly thrusts his way forward, her cunt stretching to accept him, squeezing against the invasion, wetting down for his reentry.

He moans, his deep voice a guttural growl of pleasure, "I will give you this, Coral, this elixir is everything you said it would be." Roughly, he fucks her, bottoming out his cock but not caring if it hurts as he pounds against her, each thrust sending a wave of shooting pain through her body, followed by a flood of desperate pleasure.

She chokes back her tears, clenching her eyes shut tight, trying to fight off the building climax he is forcing upon her; she does not want it, nor does she want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he pleased her body. His breathing becomes labored, his cock seems to get thicker. Leaning down, he grabs a fist full of her hair and pulls her head back so that he can see her, "Look at me Coral!" He growls.

Refusing to open her eyes, she focuses on staving off her climax. A sharp slap across her face jars her, forcing her eyes open.

"Look at me!" It is almost a snarl when he says it, his hips fiercely pounding his cock deep into her.

Her eyes unconsciously latch onto his intense blue gaze; amidst the haziness of the elixir, the pain of him forcing himself upon her and the undesired pleasure coursing through her body, his cold blue eyes remind her of Quell. She clenches her teeth, trying to hold out but her body breaks free of the constraints. Her cunt tightens over him, her body jerking with the suddenness of her climax, shuddering almost violently as he continues to ram deep inside of her, a wicked smile growing on his lips. With a loud groan and one last harsh thrust, he explodes inside of her. She can feel his thick, foreign seed warming her insides, oozing out of her cunt and down her thighs while he slowly strokes his cock in and out of her womanhood, shuddering with each movement, his eyes never leaving hers. He releases her hair, his hand almost gently brushing it back and petting her face.

"Good girl. You're mine now."

She feels weakness come over her body, the icy cold of shock and horror touching all the fibers of her being; colors start to fade as the world grows into the shadows. The last thing she sees, are his cold blue eyes haunting her before she faints.

...