The Seeker Ch. 04

Her fingertips grazed the surface of the water, its warmth sliding silky tendrils of comfort around her submerged body. Speaking softly, he knelt at the edge of the large claw foot tub and swirled incantations into the water, watching with satisfaction as it began glowing ethereally. She watched his lips move, listened to the low rumbling of his deep voice. Her spent body drank in the magic his words had created, eager to replace the precious energy she had lost that day.

His voice changed tempo, deepening into something barely recognizable, and a slow, steady hum began to vibrate through the room, tiny ripples breaking the smooth surface of the water. His eyes were glazed and unfocused, their look unsettling. He reached into the water and found her hand, and she let him bring it to his lips, drips of bloodied water falling to the floor between them. He finished speaking and looked at her, their eyes meeting through the now pulsating golden light of the bathwater.

"Veyeatte." His low voice reached to her through an already thickly clouded distance. Wander. She watched, mesmerized, as his form began to shimmer in front of her, as he steadily melted into the heartbreakingly perfect scenery that now stood about her. She blinked slowly as she looked around.

The darkly lit interior of the cabin washroom had disappeared, replaced with the soft warmth of an autumn afternoon light. The air around her crackled with the scent of cedarwood and falling leaves. The colors took her breath away, the small swimming hole she currently lay in a perfect mirror reflection of the stunning rainbow of orange and red hues painting the nearby trees. Something deep within her started to break.

"My sweet Torri," a voice said softly behind her, its lilting music taking her breath away. She spun around and sucked in a sob. Eila, her blue eyes lovely oceans of sad knowledge unto themselves, stood at the edge of the pool.

"Eila," Laiyla cried, and rushed out of the water to meet her friend's warm embrace. She fell into Eila's arms, clutching at her long, flowing white dress, swirls of fabric pooling gracefully at her feet. Laiyla had always been impossibly short for a Fae, a condition of her Seeker blood, and Eila stood a full head above her, her long arms cradling Laiyla's head as she shushed her and whispered to her comfortingly.

"Eila, I'm so, so sorry," Laiyla sobbed against her friend. "I should have left sooner. I could have saved you."

"Shhh, now. You know it wouldn't have mattered. Take that guilt from your shoulders, sweet girl. You're smarter than that." Her friend drew back from her and held her at arms length, examining her. She reached out and cupped Laiyla's cheek softly in the palm of her hand, rubbing a thumb under her eye to dry a falling tear.

"The paths of our lives are never straight and smooth. They twist and branch, doubling back in places. They cross with other paths, sometimes collapsing into each other and destroying our way to places we thought we should go." Her voice was musical and soothing, a balm for the deep heartache Laiyla felt at her loss. "This does not mean we stop walking. It means we must find things along the way that make us stronger, better." She leaned forward and pressed silky lips against Laiyla's forehead. "You, my dear friend, lit up the last of my path with your brilliant light. I was honored to have taken it and would not have traded it for an eternity of walking in shadows."

Laiyla felt herself shattering. She grasped Eila's delicate hand, knowing she had to tell her friend the terrible truth, the depth of her failure. "I'm bound to him, Eila. The man who took your life. I couldn't save you, and now the whole world will suffer for my weakness."

Her friend cocked her head, wisps of her white blonde hair dancing in the soft autumn breeze. A slight smile tugged at the corner of her sensuous lips, a knowing light dancing in the brilliant blue of her eyes. "The man who took my life is a terrible man, indeed. But he is not the same man as the one who bound you, sweet girl." She spread her arms, gesturing to the aching beauty of the forest around them. "He is certainly not the same man who brought you here to me." She brought her hand up and touched a finger lightly to the place above Laiyla's heart where the dagger had briefly pierced her skin. "The man who saved you from yourself," she said knowingly, tapping gently against the invisible wound, "would never have taken my life from you, knowing the way he did how strong your love is for me."

Laiyla frowned in confusion, thoughts rapidly circling Eila's words, an undercurrent of guilt and shame darkening her mood. "But he killed the others, Eila. He admitted he had them killed."

Eila raised an eyebrow at her, another knowing smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Did he now? Well then. Such a simple and straightforward man would never have a deeper reason for his actions." She spread the palm of her hand across the spot her finger had been touching above Laiyla's heart. Her voice lowered, barely more than a whisper as she smiled down at her young friend. "I know what you did, sweet girl, and what it cost you. Keeping it from him was wise. I think it may have saved you both. But don't sacrifice all of this." She patted her hand gently against Laiyla's chest. "The world is never trapped in absolutes. The moon doesn't cease to exist at sunrise. It can be lost by the brilliance of daylight. But don't fool yourself into believing that it's not still there."

Laiyla looked up into the deepening colors of the sky and sighed. Her eyes dropped. "You speak in riddles, Eila. You always did."

Eila hooked a finger under her chin and pulled her face up to meet her gaze. "The moon is rising, friend." She brushed her full lips against Laiyla's and smiled sadly. "I wish you well."

Eila's beautiful image glimmered and softened. Laiyla felt her stomach twist and reached for her. "No, wait, please don't leave me!" Eila shook her head sadly, lifting a slender hand in farewell. In an instant she was gone, and Laiyla was alone.

"Braenn mael laevvi."

Come back to me.

Laiyla shuddered at the sound of the deep, familiar voice filling her head. She closed her eyes and took a slow breath, savoring the feel of the crisp forest air filling her lungs and the soft light of the afternoon caressing her face.

The moon is rising, friend.

She opened her eyes and found him looking at her, black pools of midnight reflecting her own dark and conflicting thoughts. "Come, keonai mouv," he said gently, reaching below the now tepid surface of the water for her hand. "It's time to rest."

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Raul stood fuming in the door way, looking down at the ritual site. He should have killed the bitch when he had the chance. He should have killed them both. Venlen was an insufferable twat, a relic of a past that should have long been forgotten. The way he had obsessed over finding that Fae creature was disgusting. She was a freak of nature, a mixed breed who should never have been born. Her kind had died off for a reason. Slowly killing off part of her clan had been the best thing he had ever done for Ven. It was one of the only times he had agreed with his orders, although not for the same reasons.

Raul kicked at a candle and watched it fly across the room, landing against the far wall with a waxy smack. He had bound her. If only Raul had known the lying bitch hadn't really been tied to another. Her powers would be his now. He would have taken her when Venlen had been called away. Instead he had begrudgingly respected Ven's orders to leave her alone. Except for that delightful exchange with her one morning, when he got to tell her all about her dear friend's last moments on earth.

He licked his lips. He loved thinking of that night. He loved remembering the way she had given him every excuse to keep punishing her, how lovely her tears and blood had tasted mixed up together. How he had done everything, and truly it had been everything, he could possibly think of to show her who was really in charge.

He walked to the center of the room and stared down at the bloodied blankets. He imagined what it would have been like, taking this one for his, making her bleed and suffer. After he had her power, he would keep her locked up, taking her out only long enough to beat her to the ground before using her abilities to slowly kill off the very loved ones that had brought her to them in the first place. He smiled, imagining it, growing aroused thinking about the many ways he would have used her. He reached down and stroked himself over his trousers. Slowly, he began to frown as he remembered how it had all been stolen from him.

It was too late and no use thinking of squandered chances. But there was more than one way to skin a cat. Or a Fae, for that matter. Venlen would be called away again eventually, and when he was, he would leave his loyal man Raul in charge in his absence. Raul smiled wickedly and reached into his trousers, stroking himself to thoughts of the bleeding Fae bitch screaming in pain.

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Laiyla stared up at the ceiling, taking inventory of her various aches and pains. She had woken up thrashing and gasping from a horrible nightmare. Eila had been there in the cabin with her, being ravaged by Raul as he cut her open. The reisnaig had stood behind her, a looming shadow of silent strength, holding her and staring down at Eila and her killer while she begged him to do something, to stop Raul, and strained against his immovable arms. Eila had looked up at her, that sad smile on her lips as she bled from too many places all at once. The moon is rising, Torri. Run now. Only she couldn't run, she was trapped, held in place by massive arms, and the figure behind her had started humming in her ear...

Laiyla shivered. She looked toward the window and the blackened sky beyond, starless and silent. She wondered if she would ever see the sun again. She cast her net around her, dragging it back to her with deliberate slowness. He was nowhere close, although she sensed Raul back in the room where it had happened, and Sonya in the kitchens. She sensed others as well, but she didn't know them and felt no danger from them. Raul though... She realized what Raul had been doing and her hands shook with anger and disgust.

The reisnaig had warned her about using her net around him, but that was before he had effectively chained her to him and thrown away the key. Let him do his worst, she thought bitterly. She would weather his destructive temper tantrums and use his debilitating anger against him. Anger could be a source of strength, she knew, but too much could be a fatal weakness.

Slowly, she began stretching her aching muscles, testing the limits of her various injuries. She felt as if she had just run across a continent. Her leg muscles screamed in protest as she began scooting herself over to the side of the bed. Her breasts were tender, her nipples still swollen and sore from his teasing assault on them last night. The inside of her thighs felt bruised. Her fingers slid down to test the theory and she hissed at the soft contact. The worst of it, though, was inside. She felt the sore and tender area between her legs. That small, sensitive nub where he had rubbed his thumb over as he used his fingers to penetrate her felt raw. Inside herself, and deep into her core, she felt an awful aching that somehow made her feel lonely.

Reaching the side of the bed, she pulled herself up to a sitting position and sat with her legs dangling a good six inches above the floor. Her head swam, and she saw spots and shadows dancing in her eyes. She felt a wave of nausea and a cold sweat broke out over her forehead. She gripped the side of the bed and squeezed her eyes shut. Slowly, the feeling passed.

She got up, careful to keep a hand on the bed for a moment before she trusted her legs to keep her upright. She looked back at the massive wood frame bed and thought about it, then grabbed the blanket off the top. She wrapped it around herself, overlapping it and tying two ends above a shoulder, forming a sort of dress. She was done wearing Sonya's oversized cooking dresses, and she would walk around naked before she put one of the reisnaig's hunting shirts on again.

"Interesting wardrobe choice," a deep voice rumbled behind her. She yelped, spinning around to come eye to eye with the reisnaig. She hadn't even heard him slip in, hadn't felt a trace of him when her long net dragged back to her.

She scowled at him. "Do you deny me clothes of my own as part of my torment? Am I to be treated like a dog, trapped in this cage with scraps of fabric thrown at me when I am lucky? Will you fashion me a collar out of one of your shirts and tie me to a tree outside?"

He looked at her for a moment that stretched long with its silence. A feeling of heaviness settled over the room. She began to fidget, pulling on the blanket and looking down at her hands. "No," he said at last, quiet and serious. "That was not my intent. I will have clothes brought for you immediately."

She shrugged a shoulder, turning partly away from him to look out the window. "I have never stayed inside for this long. Your men," she snarled the word men with a look of disgust, thinking of what Raul was currently doing a short distance away, "won't let me past the washroom. You know enough about me. You must know how important it is for me to be outside, if only for a few moments." She turned to face him, her shoulders dropping just barely enough to notice. "Please."

He stood quietly, looking at her with a strange expression. He stepped toward her and reached out to graze her forehead with his fingertips. "Not yet, keonai mouv. It is too soon. When I am confident you have accepted your new position and will not try to escape, then I will take you outside with me for short periods of time, under careful watch."

Frustration and disappointment swelled up in her, burning a hole through her stomach. She swallowed hard, trying to look impassive. She looked again to the window. "It's always dark here. I don't ever wake up to the sun. Why?"

He cocked his head at her and chuckled. "You still don't know who I am?" He said it like a question, but there was more incredulity in his tone than curiosity, so she didn't answer. She crossed her arms, waiting. He said nothing.

She threw her arms up, exasperated, and began to pace the length of the room. He stood watching her, his eyes slowly narrowing as he traced her journey from the bedframe to the fireplace and back again. "What are you doing?" he asked her suspiciously.

"Exercising," she snapped.

He waited until she had turned around from the fireplace and was close to him, then reached out and hooked an arm around her waist. She went to jerk and spin out of his grasp when he brought his other arm up and pulled her into him. "Calm yourself," he purred. "Have patience."

"Go screw yourself, reisnaig," she snarled up at him, "and get your hands off me."

His eyes darkened, and he shifted and pulled her suddenly toward the bed. "What do you think you're doing?!" she cried, her voice an octave or two higher than she had meant for it to be.

"You will learn, keonai mouv, that you no longer get to deny yourself from me." He tugged at her arm and ran his thumb over the new raised marks on the inside of her wrist, two linked infinity symbols laced with magic of a real bond this time. "You may not like it, but you belong to me now."

She twisted her arm out of his grasp and glared up at him but could come up with no response. Already he was growing aroused, pawing at her bottom as he pushed her toward the bed. The back of her legs hit the mattress and he stopped, standing in front of her, his oversized feet stepped out to the sides to frame hers. He tugged lightly at the ends of the blanket she wore, and it fell in a pile around her feet. He gazed down at her naked figure as she brought her hands up to cover her exposed breasts. He reached down to grip her wrists and firmly held her arms out, once again baring her chest to him. She wriggled to get out of his grasp and he gripped harder, making her wince. He saw it and softened his grip, not letting go but easing up.

"I hunted you for a long time, Seeker," he said huskily, his midnight dark, violet flecked eyes drinking her in like a man seeking oblivion. "And now I have you." A hand released hers and he reached up to stroke calloused fingers down her face. He put two massive hands under her arms and lifted her up, placing her down softly on the bed.

She gritted her teeth and crossed her arms over her chest, scowling angrily as his hands once again took her wrists and held her arms out to her side. He lowered himself down and pressed his lips against her own, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth, hot and demanding. She grunted and pushed against him, trying to twist her head away from the kiss. He was unfazed as he lifted his head and lowered it to her breast, swirling his tongue against the tiny buds of her nipples. She suppressed a moan, hating how strongly her body was reacting to his, how hard it was to keep from arching her back and pressing into him. She wanted to be repulsed by him, tried to find his heady attention to her too sensitive nipples underwhelming and exasperating, but it wasn't, and she couldn't.

He moved to her other nipple, flicking his tongue against her soft flesh and sucking gently. He shifted both of her wrists to one of his big hands and slid the other one down her ribs, slowly reaching down between them to feel the traitorous part of herself that was already aching for his touch. "Don't," she whined, shutting her eyes as color flamed to her cheeks, ashamed of how ready her body already was for him. He moved his fingers into her as if he hadn't even heard her.

His fingers began pumping in and out of her as his thumb massaged her throbbing clit, drawing a small, involuntary moan of pleasure from her lips. His demeanor changed in response to the sound and his hand began moving against her roughly, the friction against her sensitive nub making her shudder. He sat up and pulled her body roughly toward the edge of the bed. Holding a heavy arm across her middle, he knelt down at the foot of the bed between her legs and spread her thighs apart. She squirmed and tried to climb back up the bed away from him, but he pulled her down again to the edge, his mouth blowing hot and ragged breaths against her sex. Before she could do anything to stop it, his tongue was on her, swirling around her clit. She yelped and arched her back at the overwhelming sensation.

The fingers of his hand resumed their violation and she felt something powerful building up in her. He flicked his tongue against her clit and she moved her hips, desperate to find release from the terrible pressure gripping her. She felt herself on the crest of her orgasm when he suddenly pulled away from her. She cried out in surprise and frustration. He fumbled with the belt of his trousers, pulling them down and releasing his throbbing cock. His rough hands grabbed her sides and dragged her further into the bed, falling on top of her and pinning her against him.

He positioned the head of his thick cock at her entrance and stared down at her. She looked down from his face, heat rising up her neck. He hooked a finger under her chin and drew her back up to meet his gaze. "You will not look away from me, keonai mouv." Before she could prove him wrong, he was in her, her slick pussy ready for him this time. She gasped and arched her back as he thrust himself completely into her, feeling him stretching her tight walls with his considerable girth. He moaned thickly as he moved over her, his muscles rippling under his loose shirt as he pumped in and out of her, his broad shoulders dwarfing her as she wriggled beneath him.