Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
I stroke myself to these images, even though I’ve spent years trying to avoid self-abuse. But every time I start to come, the cock ring tightens and stops my pleasure. Fuck, I’m so fucking hard I ache! But there’s nothing I can do—I’m in my new Mistress’s power and I can’t get out.
I consider the idea of getting up and looking for the golden key that fits the collar and the ring around my shaft. But that would mean leaving and giving up any hope I have of finding The Heart of the Eclipse.
What I carefully don’t admit to myself is that I don’t actually want to leave. Even though my balls are aching and my shaft is hard and leaking, begging for release, I can’t help enjoying this new arrangement. Maybe it’s the martyr in me—I am the man who whipped himself for years rather than be tempted to touch a woman I might burn.
And that’s the other thing—I’ve finally found a woman I can touch. A woman who won’t shy away from me or pull back the moment her skin comes into contact with mine. Sylvanna can touch me and I can touch her—wicked Sorceress or not, that’s worth everything to me.
And so I stay. And eventually I sleep…only to dream.
“There’s power inside you boy—power that must be brought to a head. You need to learn to use it for the glory of our GodKing!”
The old priest’s voice stirs fear in my soul. In his hand, he holds the hot iron. He’s been holding it in the flames of the hearth as he lectured me about the Celestial Fire. I’m only seven—my mother left me here less than a month ago. I still cry for her every night. And now this scary old man is telling me I must learn to “build the fire” inside me and threatening me with a brand. I don’t know what to do!
“You must learn!” he shouts at me, his spittle wetting my cheek. His breath smells like the grave and there’s a mad glint in his faded eyes. “For the glory of the GodKing!”
He presses the hot iron into the flesh of my bare back—he made me strip to the waist when he brought me to the small, windowless room. The air is smoky from the fire and I feel the brand like a stinging flame. It hurts more than anything I’ve ever felt in my life!
I scream in pain but there’s no one to help me. I cry for my mother but she’s gone—she left me and I’ll never see her again! There’s no one to rescue me and I feel the fear and the Holy Fire building inside me like never before.
“Like that—just like that! Build it—let it grow!” the mad old priest cries. He heats the brand again and again he shoves it at me.
I try to dodge away but the room is small and the door is locked—he’s faster than his age would lead anyone to believe. He burns me again and again and again and I feel the pain and fire inside me rising to a fever pitch as I scream until I’m hoarse. It hurts…it fucking hurts!
Suddenly I feel a hand on me, shaking me. I swing out blindly—the mad priest, I must escape him! Then cool fingers are on my temple and someone is murmuring something in a language I don’t recognize.
The dream fades and calm washes over me. I look up and see a beautiful face floating over my own. The lips part and I see fangs. Am I dead? Is she a lovely demon sent from Hell to get me?
And then she speaks my name.
“Alaric,” she says. “Alaric, come back to me.”
I don’t know her at first, but then I remember her name—Sylvanna. She’s not a demon—she’s a Sorceress and I belong to her now. But that can’t be right. No one owns me, do they?
Yes they do—she does, whispers a soft voice in my head.
“Mistress?” I groan, looking up at her.
“Yes, Alaric—it’s me.” She strokes my cheek with her cool fingers and I feel safe and cared for. “Come on—come to bed with me,” she urges. “I’ll make sure the dream doesn’t return.”
I hear the ring of truth and follow her willingly. Sylvanna woke me and broke the power of the dream—I must be hers.
13
Sylvanna
At first I’m not sure what woke me up. It sounded like shouting and thrashing but I live alone—there’s no one else here to make such noises. Then I remember the Paladin—my new Blood-servant.
I slip from the bed and find him half-out of the small servant’s bed I sent him to sleep in. He’s moaning and thrashing. Low cries come from his lips.
“No—no, don’t hurt me! I’ll serve the GodKing but don’t hurt me—don’t burn me!”
My heart seems to catch in my throat at his words and I remember the cruel brand marks on his back. Quickly I reach for the Jewel of Knowing and press it to my temple.