Enslaved Read online

  The slaver picked up the bag and hefted it expertly in one many-fingered hand. At once his expression changed from anger to avarice.

  “A fair price. Most kind, Master.”

  “Take it and go.” The Master turned his greedy gaze on Thrace once more. “I have a new slave to attend to…”

  Trin watched in horror as Thrace was dragged away, still looking over his shoulder and shouting for his father…begging him to get up…to not be dead…to come back.

  Oh Thrace, I’m so sorry…so terribly sorry…

  The scene was horrible—it made Trin feel like her heart was being twisted in a spiked glove. She wished she could do something but she was frozen in place, unable to move or go after the young Thrace. Unable to help him in any way or do anything but watch.

  I don’t want to watch this! Please, just let me go…

  But she couldn’t go and the worst was yet to come.

  The scene shifted to the young Thrace in a bedchamber wearing only a thick leather belt with a few scraps of fabric hanging from it for cover. He had his arms tied behind his back and he was wearing a cruel black pain collar with silver agony conducting studs.

  Trin watched, her heart beating in her throat. What was happening now? At least the young Havoc seemed to be all alone. Maybe he would be all right. Maybe…just then the gray haired master walked in.

  “Are you ready?” he demanded, with no preamble. He came to stand before Thrace and glared up at him. “Ready to say the words? Ready to kneel before me and accept your fate as a good slave should?”

  “Never.” Thrace raised his chin, looking coolly down his nose at the master. Though he had obviously yet to reach his full size, he was still bigger than he had been in the auction scene. Clearly some months or maybe even a cycle had passed. “Never,” he said again, glaring boldly at the other male. “I’ll never bow to you. Never acknowledge you as my master.”

  “Bite your tongue, boy.” The master glared at him. “Or else maybe I should cut it out. I’d do it without a second’s hesitation if it didn’t feel so good wrapped around my shaft.”

  “You’ve never had me willingly and you never will,” Thrace growled. “You have to use the force gag every time because if you don’t you know I’ll bite that tiny, shriveled piece of meat you call a shaft in two and spit it out.”

  The master’s face grew scarlet with rage.

  “You dare!” he roared, advancing on Thrace. “You dare to speak so to your master when you ought to be kneeling before me instead? When you ought to be taking the oath of fealty, swearing to be mine forever?”

  “I’ll never be yours,” Thrace spat. “You might own my body but you cannot own my soul. You killed my sire and someday I will repay the favor.”

  “You mouthy little bastard.” The master’s face was nearly puce now. “Take back those words and swear the oath of fealty to me now or I swear by all the Gods I’ll make you sorry.”

  “I’m already sorry,” Thrace snarled. “Sorry you’re too much of a coward to let me loose before you come at me. Come on, old man—give me a fair fight.”

  “This is your last chance.” There was a note of warning in the gray haired master’s voice that sent a shiver down Trin’s spine. She wanted to tell Thrace that he ought to curb his tongue. He was tied up…helpless and wearing a pain collar. He shouldn’t provoke the male who held the remote.

  “Your last chance,” the master repeated. “I’ve been waiting for you…waiting for months for you to develop the proper feelings of obedience and love towards me. Waiting to take you until you spoke your oath to me. But I swear to you, boy, tonight the waiting ends. Swear your oath to me and I will take you gently. Do not and I will take you just the same…but not nearly as tenderly as I had planned.”

  “You think I fear you?” Thrace sneered. “I fear no male. I am Havoc!”

  “It is not your fear that I seek—I want your love and loyalty. But if you will not give them freely, I will take them. Guards!”

  Four huge, muscular males wearing gleaming gold armor came forward, carrying a large, X-shaped piece of equipment. They turned Thrace to face the X and untied his arms from behind his back. Then they bound them above his head instead, fastening his wrists with iron cuffs to either side of the X shaped device. They manacled his legs too, bracing them far apart at the bottom corners of the X—chaining him down so he couldn’t move.

  Trin bit her lip as she watched. Though he struggled and fought will all his might, the young Thrace could not break free. He might have had a chance if he was the Thrace she knew now, the big, powerful male that had fought his way free of the Demon’s Eye with no more than a blaster and a bad attitude. But he was still young in this scene—he hadn’t reached his full growth and potential. Which made what happened next even harder to watch.

  “Say it! Say the words!” The gray haired master stepped up behind him and pulled his purple robes to one side, revealing a surprisingly large shaft. Not as large as Thrace’s own but enough to cause serious damage, Trin was sure.

  “Don’t!” she shouted. “Leave him alone, you bastard!” But neither the master or Thrace seemed to hear or see her. As before she was frozen in place, unable to help, unable to be anything but a silent, invisible observer.

  The master grabbed Thrace’s lean hips and pressed forward, entering him. Violating him.

  “I will belong to you body and soul—say it!” he snarled as he thrust in.

  “Never!” Young Thrace’s face was a trembling mask of pain and hatred, his hands clenched into fists as he fought to keep the tears standing in his silver-blue eyes from falling.

  “I will protect you with my life, shield you from harm in times of danger, and pleasure you in times of peace—say it!” The gray haired master thrust again. “To the last drop of my blood, I am yours. Say it, Gods damn you—Say It!”

  Those words! Trin thought wonderingly. Those are the words he said to me when I put the pain collar on him. Is this how he knew them? Was he a slave after all? But how? And where?

  “Say you love me! I’ll make you love me!” the master raved. Reaching around he grasped the other male’s shaft in his hand and began to pump it in time with his strokes. “You love it…you know you love it,” he hissed.

  “Never.” The young Thrace’s eyes were closed now, his jaw clenched as silent tears rolled down his face. “I’d rather die. Never.”

  Trin found that she was crying too.

  “No—no leave him alone! Please, leave him alone! Stop!” She shouted until her throat was raw, screaming at the horrible sight going on before her, her hands clenched into fists and tears pouring down her cheeks. “Stop it! Stop it!”

  “Stop what? Trin wake up—what’s going on?” The deep familiar voice in her ear seemed to pull her out of the nightmare she had somehow entered.

  She opened her eyes to find she was curled against Thrace’s muscular side, her hands balled into fists and her breath coming in short, heaving gasps.

  “Th-thrace? Is that you?” She reached up to touch his cheek.

  “Yeah, baby, it’s me. What’s wrong? Did you have a bad dream?” He looked at her with obvious concern. “You were yelling for someone to stop doing something.”

  “I…was?” Trin frowned, trying to recapture the details of the nightmare. Whatever it was, it had been bad—terrible. But now that she was awake it was gone except for a few wisps.

  “Yeah, you were. And…you’re crying.” He cupped her face and rubbed his thumb gently over her cheek.

  “I am?” Trin touched her fingers to her other cheek and they came away wet. What had she dreamed that affected her so deeply? It had to do with Thrace somehow…something bad happening to him. But what?

  She couldn’t answer the question. The dream was gone. Not that she wanted it back if it was that upsetting.

  “What were you dreaming? Do you remember?” Thrace asked softly. “I only ask because my people believe there can be significance in dreams.”

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