Enslaved Read online

  “Thrace—” she began but he wasn’t done yet.

  “The Master who bought me was the same one who murdered my Sire,” he went on in a low, growling voice. “He paid fifty thousand credits for me—just as you did, Mistress.” The word held a bitterness that Trin had never heard him use before. “He kept me intact for a good long while, hoping to get me to give my oath—to pledge my love and loyalty.”

  “The words,” Trin whispered. “He wanted you to say the words—the words you said to me.”

  “I wouldn’t though.” Thrace sounded grim. “I never gave those words to anyone…until I took your collar and gave them to you.” He looked at Trin but she found she couldn’t hold his burning gaze and had to look away.

  “Did he…”

  “Eventually he got tired of waiting, of course,” Thrace continued. “He took me—used me as hard as he could. It was a punishment, you see. For failing to give him what he wanted…for refusing to…” He choked. “Refusing to love him.”

  “Thrace…”

  “He used me almost every night after that,” the big Havoc continued, speaking relentlessly as though he was determined to get the whole sordid story out. Every muscle in his big body was bunched with tension as he spoke. “He didn’t always do me the courtesy of using lube, either.” He nodded at the small cylinder Trin had left lying on the side of the bed. “Those times hurt…but it was worse when he…when he took his time and did use it. When he spent time on trying to prepare me, as you were doing.”

  “Why?” Trin couldn’t help asking although she didn’t really want to know. But somehow she knew that Thrace had to tell it. “Why was that worse?”

  “Because those times were when he did more than just fuck my body…he fucked with my head.” Thrace clenched his jaw and a muscle in his temple jumped and twitched. “He…made me come for him, you see. It’s an involuntary response—you touch a male in the right way, rub against the right spot inside and it’s going to happen. I know that now. But for years I wondered what the hell was wrong with me…why I couldn’t stop myself from coming when he…when he took me.”

  “Thrace…” Trin felt like her heart was breaking. Knowing this…finding it out was too much. Just too, too much. “How…how did you get away?” she whispered.

  A slow, grim smile spread over his face.

  “Three cycles he had me. And for two of those he used me. I was desperate to escape…little more than an animal after a while. And I finally got my growth.”

  Trin remembered the young Thrace she’d seen in the dream—the way he was tall but not nearly as muscular or huge as he was now.

  “I could see it coming on—I could feel my strength growing,” he went on in a low growl. “But the Master was blind to it—he only saw what he wanted to see. A slave he liked to fuck. So one night when he’d sent the guards from the room and one of my manacles was a little loose, I finally freed one hand. I reached for him and dragged him to me—that raping son-of-a-bitch.” He made an unconscious motion with one hand, clenching it tightly into a fist.

  “And then?” Trin whispered, her heart beating in her throat.

  “Then I gouged out his eyes and ripped out his throat. With my teeth.”

  The look on his face was so fierce…so predatory, that she couldn’t help drawing back with an involuntary shudder.

  “Goddess, Thrace…”

  “His blood tasted so fucking sweet.” Those silver-blue eyes were blank now, filled with a fierce, animalistic light. “I killed him and left his corpse chained where he always chained me—left him for the guards to find. Well, the ones I didn’t kill on the way out.” He shrugged. “After that I went back home and swore I’d never be a slave again. And I wasn’t until Solar and I got drugged in that fucking bar on Padge.” He looked at her intently. “Before you bought me I swore to myself I’d kill my new master or mistress and get away before it could happen again. Before anyone could use me…that way again.”

  Trin could barely speak.

  “Then why…how could you… how could you even think of letting me do this?” She gestured at herself—at the way she had nearly taken and penetrated him at his request.

  “I told you.” The fierce light in his eyes was for her now and he gripped her by her upper arms, pulling her close. “You own me—body and soul. I’m yours, Mistress. And if this is what you need to do, then by all the Gods, we’ll do it. So why don’t you just fucking get on with it?”

  “No!” Trin shoved away from him, tearing herself from his grasp. The phallus within her which had felt strange but intensely sexual before, now seemed abhorrent—an instrument of torture. She reached down and pulled it out, gasping as the unfamiliar length slid from her core. Throwing it to the side she pushed herself to her feet and staggered backwards, trying to get away from the huge Havoc still kneeling by the side of the bed with an awful light burning in his eyes.

  “Trin…” His voice was a low, warning growl.

  “No, stay away from me!” She shook her head. “I won’t do this to you. I won’t. I don’t care if it costs me my career and my reputation and my relationship with my mother—I don’t care.”

  “Trin!” He started to rise to his feet, a strange, intense look in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have told you…not like that. I’m sorry…I just—”

  “No! I don’t want to hear any more. I never want to hear any more.” Turning, she tore open the door and ran from him, ran from the room and the past that stood between them like an insurmountable wall. Ran from his pain and hurt and her own fear and vulnerability.

  But no matter how fast she ran, the nightmare followed her—the vision she’d seen the night before—the memory of his suffering and the fact that she had added to it. No matter how fast she ran, she couldn’t outrun the hurt in his eyes or the pain in his voice when she left him, standing there with his hands outstretched and empty.

  * * * * *

  Fuck—what’s wrong with me? Why in the Seven Hells did I tell her all that? Why the fuck did I tell her I killed the old Master? And why did I tell her how he used me every night? She hates me now—thinks I’m dirt—trash. Not just trash—fucking dangerous trash. I told her I ripped his throat out with my teeth! Why did I tell her that? Wouldn’t it be enough to just say I killed him without giving details? Fuck!

  Thrace paced the floor, running both hands through his hair, trying to understand what had happened, why he had snapped.

  Should have played off the dream—told her it was just a nightmare. Never should have admitted it was a true memory, never should have said anything about the past at all.

  For years it had isolated him. He’d never told another living soul about his past abuse—not even his first mate and best friend, Solar. Now he understood why. Seeing that horrified look on Trin’s face—hearing the pity and fear in her voice as she told him she didn’t want to hear any more—that was reason enough to keep the past to himself. Thrace wished desperately that he’d done exactly that.

  But somehow when she started using the lube on him, he just couldn’t keep it inside anymore. His subservient position, kneeling by the bed with his legs spread while she fingered him from behind had been too much to take. It reminded him too strongly of the past—of the way the Master had sometimes prepared him before taking him.

  Should have kept it to myself, he thought again. But it was too late for that. Too late to do anything but try to find her and repair the damage he’d done. With a low oath, he stood up and began looking for his trousers—the ones that actually covered him. They were going to have to leave this place and he’d be damned if he would wear those fucking crotchless slave trousers one more minute. He was going to get dressed, gather the bare necessities, and find Trin. In the meantime, maybe she would cool off a little and be ready to talk by the time he got to her.

  He hoped.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Trin ran until the breath was tearing in her throat and she felt like her heart would burst. The marble halls of