Enslaved Read online

  “You’re damn right, I’m taking her,” he growled. “I’m taking her because I want to heal her and take care of her—which is a hell of a lot more than you seem to be willing to do.”

  “You defiled her!” Trin’s mother was red in the face.

  “No, I loved her,” Thrace corrected her. “As I love her still which is why I’m taking her. Now get out of the way.”

  But Trin’s mother wasn’t budging.

  “You defiled her and she allowed it!” She pointed accusingly at Trin who was curled against his chest like a wounded animal. “Allowed it and enjoyed it! Her pain and suffering are necessary. They are the only way to pay for such blatant sacrilege.”

  Thrace looked down at his beloved—at the raw, red scratches that marked her lovely, creamy brown skin…at her ragged hair. And then he thought of the other damage which had been done—of the suffering she must have endured when her beloved pets were killed in front of her…the agonizing she must have done the night before when she was trying to decide whether it would be easier to chop off a finger or poke out one of her eyes. And all to please some puritanical code the priestesses had cooked up, no doubt just to scare the other females into submission and keep themselves in power.

  Thinking of all that had been done to Trin was enough to make the Rage drop over him again like a red cloak that clouded his vision.

  “She’s suffered enough,” he growled, fighting to keep his temper in check. “Now get…out…of …my… fucking way!”

  Despite his best efforts, his voice rose to a roar on the last words and he saw Trin’s mother flinch back. Her face had turned from red to white and she stared at him with shocked eyes.

  “I’d do what he says, lady,” Becca said softly, coming up behind him. “If you don’t watch it you’ll push him into Rage—that’s the state of berserker fury that Kindred or Havoc males go into when their females are threatened and it’s not pretty to see.”

  “Or easy to stop,” Charlie added.

  Trin’s mother stepped back but she still wasn’t done.

  “Lonarra,” she said, addressing Trin directly. “Lonarra, listen to me—you can’t go with this male. You can’t throw away your life like this!”

  Trin had been pressing her face to Thrace’s chest but now she turned her head and looked into her mother’s eyes.

  “I have to go,” she said softly. “I’m sorry, Mother, but I have to.”

  “You’ll regret this!” The high priestess’s voice rang out behind them and Thrace half turned to see what she was doing.

  He was afraid she might be holding a weapon on them but instead, Betina was standing directly in front of the looming gray statue of the Goddess of Judgment, her arms raised dramatically. In one hand she held the jeweled dagger and in the other a golden bowl.

  “You will regret it!” she repeated. “For I curse you now, Lonarra Trin, former Daughter of Zetta.”

  In his arms, Trin jerked and gasped as though the priestess had physically struck her. Her mother, whose face was already pale, suddenly went as white as snow.

  “No,” she whispered hoarsely. “Oh, no—not that! Not a blood curse—anything but that!”

  “I curse you, Lonarra” Betina went on relentlessly. “I curse you that your sins will never be forgiven. They will linger in your mind and haunt you all your days. And when you die—Goddess will it shall be soon—your stained and degraded soul will be condemned to the Hell of Defiled Women where you shall burn in fire and drown in blood for all eternity!”

  “Please,” Trin whispered. “Oh Goddess, please no…”

  “And I seal my curse so, with blood.” the high priestess finished triumphantly.

  She drew the sharp blade of the dagger down her forearm, opening a long, shallow cut which began to bleed at once. Blood spattered upon the stone floor and one of the lesser priestesses rushed forward to take the golden bowl and catch some of the scarlet drops in it. Betina took the bowl from her and knelt before the statue of the Goddess of Judgment.

  “Oh Goddess of Judgment, drink of my blood and know of my devotion. Seal my curse to this female’s soul that she may never feel joy again and take her soon to Hell!”

  “Please,” Trin whispered again and when he looked down, Thrace saw her eyes were filled with tears. “Please, Thrace, get me out of here!” she whispered brokenly.

  “Of course, baby.” Thrace felt a stab of shame. He never should have kept her here, listening to all that crap the priestess was spouting. But for a moment he’d felt frozen to the spot—unable to move as she carried out her bloody incantation.

  He turned back towards the entrance of the inner sanctum, ready to push past Trin’s mother—to knock her aside if he had to. Though he abhorred violence towards females, he wouldn’t let her stop him from taking Trin, wouldn’t let her keep them in this hell hole one more minute.

  But Trin’s mother stepped quietly aside as they passed. Thrace saw Trin look up at the older woman.

  “Mother…” she whispered but her mother only shook her head and looked away.

  “Do not call me that anymore. I have no daughter now.”

  “Mother, please…” Trin struggled to get out of his arms but Thrace wasn’t taking a chance on her changing her mind and staying for more torture. Between her mother and that bitch of a high priestess, she’d had her mind fucked with enough for one day. Hell, for an entire lifetime.

  “Come on, Mistress,” he said, striding forward. “It’s time we were going now. Past time, actually.”

  “Wait!” Trin begged but Thrace wasn’t waiting anymore—not for anything or anyone. He carried her out of the sanctum, out of the temple, and into the fresh air and sunshine.

  Parked across from the temple in a grassy spot, was the Kindred shuttle. Thrace carried the struggling, crying Trin towards it. Becca and Charlie followed, still keeping a firm grip on their destroyers.

  “Wait,” Trin begged again. “My mother…”

  “Has some very fucked up ideas,” Thrace growled. “And it’s not going to do you any good to listen to any more of them.”

  Trin subsided in his arms, sobbing. Thrace’s heart ached for her and he held her tight, wishing he could ease her pain.

  “She cursed me,” she whispered at last. “She laid a blood curse on me, Thrace.”

  “I know, baby,” he murmured into her ragged hair. “I know and I’m so sorry. But a curse is just words—you don’t have to believe it.”

  “Just words,” she whispered but she didn’t sound sure of what she was saying at all.

  He held her close. “It’s all right, baby,” he sent through their link. Everything is going to be all right now.”

  Or he tried to send it, anyway. He’d heard the others talking about how the walls of the temple blocked their mental communication and he’d been hoping that once he got Trin outside those tall stone walls, her mind would open to him again and thoughts could flow between them through their bond.

  But even now, though they were finally away from the temple of the Goddess of Judgment, the mental block Trin had put up against him and the bond they shared held strong. Even now he couldn’t reach her.

  Looking at her ravaged and tear stained face, Thrace wondered if he ever would.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  “Put me down,” Trin said, the moment they entered the shuttle. Thrace had taken her straight back to the far end of the craft, presumably so they could have some privacy.

  But Trin didn’t want to talk to him—or to anyone. She just wanted to close her eyes and die. The look on her mother’s face kept replaying over and over in her head. “I have no daughter now,” she’d said and Trin believed her. She had been wiped from the records by the blood curse and her own sins. She was nothing anymore—and she didn’t deserve to be held in the arms of the male she loved. The male who would surely die with her if she allowed the blood curse to drag him down as well.

  “I’d rather hold you,” Thrace rumbled. He passed a hand gently