The Seeker Ch. 03

Unbound. Untouched. He shivered with pleasure.

It shouldn't have been possible. Binding a Fae by taking her first orgasm, after laying the necessary spellwork, was a powerful act. It tied the Fae to you forever, transferring access to her power and rendering such power ineffective against you.

A bound Fae Seeker would be invaluable, the epitome of power. It would lay the world at his feet, a world already vulnerable to his vast resources and his own modest abilities. How she could have escaped such a pairing for so long he could not understand. Of course, she could always have taken a lover, removing the risk of being bound against her will. He understood her neglecting to act in this way least of all. Why leave herself open to so much risk? He shook his head.

Removing the markings had taken an act of immense power, had left him spent for days. There was only ever one opportunity to bind a Fae, but it was possible to remove the connection, to expunge another out of her mind and cut off another's access to her powers. Now he had found that the connection he had severed so painstakingly had been a trick. He angered, even as he admired her.

She was a mystery. The kindness and compassion she had shown toward Sonya did not surprise him but was touching just the same. No one else had thought to communicate with her in images, the same way she was able to communicate to the rest of the world. Their connection was instant and deep. Sonya felt understood and accepted for perhaps the first time in her long life.

Then there was the way she defended her friend and her clan. Her coming out of hiding was a true act of sacrifice. Perhaps she had thought she would be able to fight them, to kill them off once on the inside, but it was a risk just the same. Her courage and fierceness against him only served to draw him to her further.

He would have her bound to him, he thought with wanton pleasure. She would be his and his only, forever. And how close he had come to losing her today. His pleasure melted into fury seamlessly and instantly. He would have to confront Raul later. The urge to forge the connection became stronger as he thought about her actions today. She had been so close to following through with her plan. So close to taking her own life, to removing access to herself from him, her mind, body and power. Flames of anger licked his insides. He had to move quickly. Bound to him, she would be unable to seek that sort of escape, at least without him knowing and easily able to stop it.

He turned back from the fire and strode over to where she lay curled up in his bed. He reached down and stroked back her dark hair. In her sleep, she nuzzled into his touch. "Good girl," he murmured, almost to himself. He climbed into bed next to her and pulled her against him, his arms crossing over her as if to prevent her from ever leaving him.

You are mine, he thought jealously.

..........................................

She was alone when she awoke. She breathed a sigh of relief. She had felt him come to bed last night, wrapping his strong arms around her in a protective, and possessive, manner. Fool. Dread coiled tightly in her stomach as she remembered his revelation. She knew what he would try to do, and she knew she would have to do everything in her power to stop it.

She stretched her slim body, feeling the deep need to run across the forest floor, to make the connection to her beloved wilderness. Her head ached from the overindulgence. She reached her fingers and rubbed circles against her temples, thinking the aches may not just be from the benyecca.

She slowly climbed out of bed and looked for the oversized grey dress, slipping it on over her increasingly bony figure and tying the cut and discarded cords around her waist, creating a belt that gave the dress at least some sort of shape. She needed to eat more. If she had to stay here in this world, with the reisnaig and the bastard, she would have to keep up her strength. She could still resist, could still make this difficult for them. The thought brought a small smile to her lips.

She searched the room for her dagger, but it was nowhere to be seen. Eila's necklace was also gone. Of course he wouldn't have let her keep it again after what she had almost done. She deeply regretted losing the chance to use it against him.

The sound of footsteps coming down the hallway made her tense. The door opened and he was there, his black midnight eyes staring down at her, hungry and predatory. She took a step back involuntarily, then found her courage and throwing her shoulders back, she held her chin up, staring at him coolly.

He held his hand out to her, beckoning her. "Come," he said quietly.

Panic seized her. She thought she would have more time than this. She needed more time. Her breathing sped up. This was to be it, then. Her plan had failed yesterday, and she had no time to save up strength now, to get more prepared. She simply had to fight, and then run. She knew what she had to do. She pushed a quick prayer out the window into the waiting wilderness.

She shook her head at him and backed up two steps, crouching slightly, ready to spring. "Make me," she challenged.

He didn't answer. Instead, he stalked toward her, black eyes flashing angrily. She waited until he was halfway across the room, and then lunged at him within her mind. With sharp mental claws, she slashed her way into his consciousness, frantically trying to find purchase to something within him she could grip and sink her teeth into. He staggered forward and roared, grabbing at his head. She grimaced at the feel of his pure, murderous rage, but kept on, slashing and fighting her way deep into his consciousness. He fell to his hands and knees, panting, and she slowly walked toward to him, breathing heavily with her own intense exertion.

With a frantic quickness, she shuffled through his brain, feeling for weaknesses. She skipped over individual memories and thoughts; she did not have time for those. She was searching for something far more important, something vulnerable and soft. She yelled out in frustration at the precious time it was taking to locate it.

She reached him, and gripped his hair, pulled his face up. Panicked eyes met hers, finally reflecting some of the distress he had pushed upon her so forcefully. Narrowing her eyes, she gathered all the physical strength she had available and brought her knee up into his face, sending him sprawling on his back. She rushed over and straddled his chest, her deceptively small hands grabbing the sides of his face and forcing him to look at her. She gritted her teeth as she continued her mental attack, her chest heaving as she seethed and grunted with effort.

Finally, she felt it. It was buried so deep that she had to spare a moment to marvel at the pure challenge of it. She burrowed deeper, reaching the thing she had found and crushed in the other men who had tried to take her, the other men who thought they were entitled to her for no other reason besides having been lucky, or stupid, enough to find her. She sneered down at him, sweat glistening across her forehead, as she remembered the lost look on those men's faces as she had destroyed their very will to live. She would see that same look on his face, would think of Eila as she commanded him to simply stop breathing, would watch him die as he had surely watched her die, regardless of how he had denied it.

He panted and shook. As an afterthought, she wrapped her hand around his neck and slowly squeezed, as he had done to her. His eyes bulged.

She reached the place in his mind where he was the most vulnerable, the place that would end him. She wrapped her mental claws around the pulsing soft thing and smiled sweetly down at him. Breathing deeply between words, she spoke to him. "Marked or not... I belong... To no man." Readying herself, she pounced.

And hit a brick wall.

She screamed in anger. Pain from the recoil threw her back and she landed hard on his side. Gasping, she rolled over, pulling her arms beneath her to lift herself up. She gaped at him. What he had just done should not have been possible. She frantically tried to find it again, but it was gone, locked away behind whatever wall he had thrown up at the last possible second. She watched him, sucking in frenzied breaths, as he blinked slowly up at the ceiling and shook his head as if to clear it. Who is this man?

He started to sit up. RUN, a voice screamed to her, as real to Laiyla as his slowly growing form in front of her. She scrambled off the floor and darted to the door. Reaching it, she grabbed the handle and pulled hard.

His hand slammed into the door next to her head, shutting it instantly. Fingers wove through her hair and yanked her back, hard. She yelped and staggered, managing to stay on her feet. He took a big step toward her, swinging his fist hard into her middle. She doubled over, struggling to breathe. He grabbed the back of her head and forced her to look up at him. She fought back a scream at what she saw. His face had twisted into something dark and primal. The black of his eyes was absolute; unforgiving fury raged unchecked by sanity. He stood over her, fuming. She tried to look back at him with fearlessness but felt herself sinking against the weight of the inevitable. She knew she could not stop what was about to happen, and she was afraid; afraid for herself, and for the rest of the world. She settled for an obstinate scowl.

He released her suddenly, and she fell to the ground in a heap. She jumped to her feet and backed away from him until she hit the wooden table, nearly knocking it over. She steadied herself and glared defiantly at him. "Something the matter, reisnaig?" she sneered. "A headache, maybe?"

He took several deep, shuddering breaths, and she could see he was trying desperately to control his rage. Finally, his breathing evened, and he straightened, turning toward her fully. He took two easy steps and grabbed her around the waist, hoisting her up over his shoulder. She let out an undignified "oomph," and began a targeted attack of angry punches on his back. He ignored her and stalked out of the room and down the hall.

They reached the end of the hall and he put her down in front of a large door identical to her own. He pushed the door open in front of her, and grabbed the back of her neck, forcing her to walk into the room in front of him.

She froze. Woven blankets sat in the center of the floor. Underneath the blankets, and spreading out from them, was a five-pointed star with three linked circles superimposing it. Five candles surrounded the design, corresponding to each of the five points of the star. Windowless walls reflected the flickering light of the burning flames. She spun around, facing him.

"Don't do this," she pleaded, hating herself for indulging in this weakness. Begging would do no good, she knew, but she could hardly keep the tremor from her voice. She sucked in tight breaths. "We can talk about this," she said quickly. "I'll work with you. I'll come to you willingly. You have my word. Please. You don't have to do this." Her eyes burned with tears of shame and she looked down.

His dark eyes gleamed. He reached out and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, shushing her. "Relax, keonai mouv. You knew this would happen. The more willing you are, the better it will be for you." His eyebrows lowered, and he leaned down, pulling her chin up to meet his gaze. "Although, the less willing you are..." he pressed a chaste kiss to the side of her mouth. "the better it will be for me," he finished softly.

She shook with fear and anger and turned away from him to look back at the circle. Instinctively, she tried to take a step back from the ritual site but simply bounced off his immovable form. She knew he was right. The ritual would be uncomfortable, painful even, no matter what she did. Without her submission, though, without her acceptance of it and the bond it would try to form, the pain would be excruciating.

"I will never forgive you for this," her voice said lowly, dangerously. She knew he thought he would have unbridled access to her abilities after this was done, that she would be powerless against him. She hoped he was wrong, hoped that she could pull off the thing she planned to do.

He circled his arms around her, stroking her hair and humming to her. She started crying. Firmly, he held her wrist and drew her to the middle of the blankets. He placed his large hands on her shoulders, pushing her down to her knees. Tears streamed down her face, her piercing green eyes glistening, she glared up at him. "I won't make this easy for you," she promised. He laughed softly and reached down to loosen the belt holding up his trousers, letting them fall and setting his hard and erect sex free. She kneeled in front of him, staring at his immense size, fear and anguish filling her in overwhelming ways. She shuddered as he began weaving his fingers through her loose hair, pulling her head towards him. "I would expect nothing less, keonai mouv."

Taking his cock into his hands, he pushed it against her lips, parting them and forcing the tip into her mouth. She tried to jerk back, but he held her head firmly and pushed farther into her. She gagged as his cock hit the back of her throat and tried not to retch as he pushed past that soft barrier and buried himself fully in her. He pulled back, shuddering with pleasure at the feel of her tongue against his pulsing cock, her lips stretching beautifully around his thickness. He began thrusting slowly, then more eagerly, bucking his hips against her mouth as he held her head firmly in place. Tears streamed down her face and she struggled to breathe as he continued his assault.

He groaned, and the tempo of his thrusts picked up. She tried to shake her head, tried to move in a way that would allow her to breathe more, but he held her fast and firm and she was unable to do more than pull in tight, small breaths of air through her nose between his grunting thrusts. Remember this, she told herself. More tears of humiliation and anger welled up and fell down her face as she closed her eyes and waited for his release. This act, she knew, had nothing to do with the ritual. This was him seeking his revenge for her resistance, his punishment for her trying to fight for her freedom. Remember every second of this. Never forget what he does to you out of anger. Use it later.

She tensed as he stiffened and jerked, and the taste of his hot, salty release filled her mouth. His come hit her throat with nauseating spurts. She closed her eyes tight and tried to force him out of her mouth, but he shook her violently and growled a command for her to swallow.

Stunned and reeling from the pure violence of the act, she tried not to gag as her mouth continued filling with his desperate spurts. She swallowed, hating the feel of his forced heat sliding down her throat, filling her in terrible ways.

When he was spent and she had taken all of him, he grabbed the back of her neck and jerked her to her feet. Tugging impatiently, he tore apart the cords she had been using as a belt and lifted the dress over her head. She struggled against him. He laughed huskily and pulled her down onto the blankets with him. He climbed on top of her, straddling her hips and pinning her to the ground. She swung her fists, and he easily collected both of her wrists in one of his imposing hands and held them above her head. He stared down at her, raking his gaze over her hungrily. His free hand began roaming. He cupped her small breast and pinched her nipple between his thumb and finger. She yelped, and he covered her mouth with his own, crushing her lips against his. He twisted her nipple slightly and she squirmed. He moved his hand to her other breast, repeating the same sharp pinches and twists, until both nipples were swollen and erect. He released her mouth and looked down at her chest, admiring his work.

Never releasing his grip on her wrists, he moved to her side and lowered his hand to in between her knees. She tensed and tried to squeeze her legs together. Angrily, he pushed them apart and situated his legs to hold them down. He reached back down and began stroking the sensitive nub of her clit while two fingers parted her folds. He lowered his mouth back down to her sensitive nipple and flicked his tongue over it. His breath against her chest was hot and heady. She stiffened and then stilled, staring past him and straight up at the wood ceiling. He continued making circles against her clit with his thumb while two fingers entered her. She flinched and sucked in a breath as pain bloomed through her core. She felt herself stretching and tightening around his fingers and a sickly heat churned in her belly. Her face showed no reaction, although her traitorous body responded to him eagerly. His fingers began pumping in and out, the attention to her clit coating his hand with her wetness. She continued staring straight ahead, trying to block out the betrayal of her body against her. She took deep, measured breaths as his fingers worked, focusing herself.

After a while, he withdrew his fingers and settled on top of her. He positioned his erect head, recovered from his earlier orgasm, at her entrance. He pressed slightly, and she sucked a breath in through her teeth. "Look at me, keonai mouv," he grunted. She ignored him. He grabbed her chin and brought her face even with his own. "Look at me," he said softly, dangerously. She closed her eyes.

"When was it exactly that you realized your friends were dying because of you?" he asked, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. Her eyes snapped open and she met his stare with one of open hatred. As soon as their eyes locked, he entered her.

The pain was excruciating. It blossomed and spread, unforgiving. She screamed and threw her head back as he forced himself into her tight and unprepared sex. She felt something break with a sickening snap. He paused as he let her adjust to his considerable size, stretching against her internal walls, but the pain was not just pain from the coupling and it would not recede. She screamed again as he withdrew, and a powerful wave of pure suffering pounded through her. He entered her again and she thought she would pass out at the agony that came with each movement. The pain was everywhere, and everything. It was her whole world. It went on forever. She spent an eternity with it, absolute. She was sure it would never end.

Everything else quickly melted away until it was just her and the pain. It coursed through her veins, invading the deepest places in her. It filled her up, replaced everything she had ever been. She had stopped breathing. She was sure she was dying.

She wasn't sure how long it had been. She wasn't sure she could ever remember a time without the pain.

Rough fingers gripped her chin, shaking her. Laiyla, she heard him yell, from a great distance away. She tried to ignore him, to block him out like she had done before, but some primal part of her that knew that she would be lost soon prodded her to pay attention. He was talking to her, telling her something important. She focused on his words.

Breathe.

She inhaled deeply, her lungs burning as she realized she had been holding her breath.

Breathe.

She exhaled slowly, shuddering as new agony continued to assault her.

Look at me.

She met his eyes, tears clouding her vision as fresh waves of pain crashed into her.

Stop fighting me. The pain will stop.

She shook her head slowly, the pain restricting her movements.

Yes. It will stop. I promise. Now stop fighting.