Bound and Broken

- 9 -

Aelon’s P.O.V.

One might have assumed that my pacing about my chambers was nothing more than a bout of nerves, forcing me to move and release pent-up anxiety by any means necessary. I must admit that’s what it looked like from the outside. But the truth was that I was brimming with excited anticipation. A spark had ignited in my soul that couldn’t be quenched by my usual means. It had only been a day since my first encounter with the newest acquisition, Myla, but I couldn’t get her out of my mind.

Mother and Father wanted me to pry information from the woman, but I wanted so much more than that. She was my key to control. And I had to start with her as soon as possible. It was a shame that my morning appointment was to be with Ari.

“Myla,” her name burned on my tongue as the memory of her soft features and a budding well of power flooded my mind’s eye. My lips twitched in a half-smile and I drummed my fingers over the open neckline of my shirt. I could already imagine the sweet smell of her lingering in my chambers and on my bedclothes and grew ever more excited at the prospect of taming that wild beast of a mage for my own. Her training had begun in excess, of that I was sure. But to what lengths would this new plaything go to please me?

A shiver ran through my body just imagining the closeness that we’d shared in passing. The thrill of the power I held over her still trembled in my limbs. One of the most powerful mages in the Phantom King’s company was at my disposal. She was helpless, and she would do everything I asked of her.

A moment of pause stilled me. My mind lingered on the twisting tension in my gut at the thought of breaking and bending her like my other toys. I ached to see her submit to my every whim. To feel her powers twist and mesh with mine and bring me to heights I could only imagine. What power could she offer me, I wondered. Would this Myla be able to unlock this untapped magic welling up within me?

The soft rapping knock at my chamber door brought my attention away from my thoughts, and I straightened to my full height. Disappointment fell over my features, and a slight sneer tugged across my face. “Enter,” I commanded, knowing full well Ari was on the other side of the door. My eyes were fixed to the heavy wooden door as the latch clanged open and the hinge slowly creaked to life.

I expected to see the lithe and graceful form of Ari, but shock stilled my movements when instead I was met by a surprise. There in the doorway stood my prize and the object of my recent obsession. My expression only faltered for a moment before regal composure once again took over despite the heat rising to my cheeks.

Myla’s rich auburn curls were pinned back away from her rouge-dusted face. Purple silk wrappings clung to her every curve, with chains linked to a ring on the front of her collar trailing down to matched cuffs on her wrists. The metal shined and glinted in the light, and I could only imagine what she might look like wearing nothing but those trinkets.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” Myla said with a deep curtsey. Her eyes were downcast, and she kept her head bowed even as she rose back to her full height. The melodic lilt of her voice shuddered as she spoke, broken by an emotion unknown to me. Was it eager anticipation? Or perhaps fear?

My eyes narrowed on the woman’s bare shoulders, tracing the line of her collarbone until I studied what I could see of her collar from this distance, still making little sense of its magical constraints. The shapes and sigils looked more familiar to me now, though the exact meanings still eluded me. A stern rise of my chin signaled for her to drop to her knees, and I was pleased to watch as she did so without further order after she closed the door behind her and stepped to the center of my chambers.

The mage’s back sat still and straight, her hands resting calmly on shapely thighs that peeked from beneath slits in her satin drapery. I took slow strides towards her and kept as silent as possible. Only the sound of my boots softly striking the floorboards filtered about the room, muddled with the steady crackle of the hearth that warmed the space against chill morning air.

“I did not call for you, Myla,” I said low in an attempt to hide my anticipation. “Explain yourself.”

I watched her twitch and tense in nervous fear, though she never looked up at me. Admittedly, I was impressed by her steadiness. “Her Majesty the Queen sent me to you, Your Highness,” Myla said. “To show my-” Myla’s voice broke, and I watched as she swallowed with what I could only assume was nervousness. She cleared her throat again and continued. “To show my appreciation.” It almost sounded as though she were disappointed as she spoke, a thought that pulled an odd punch in my nerves. Her arms trembled and the curve of her breast heaved with deep ragged breaths, straining at the confines of the thin silk containing them.

“Understood,” I replied, coming to a halt right in front of her and standing with my legs just barely parted. My guest stiffened when I stopped, and her breathing grew still as though she was waiting for me to strike. Myla’s broken subservience flooded me with an overwhelming surge of both desire and boyish nervousness. I stood there observing her for just a moment before turning on my heel and walking briskly towards my writing desk. “You may stand, Myla,” I commanded.

“Yes, Your Highness,” came her soft and dejected reply. The woman rose to her feet and brushed the lingering dust from her dress. Her address caught me off guard.

I paused in my movements and turned my attention over my shoulder at her. “We are alone,” I reminded her. “And as you should recall, I wish for you to call me Sir.” I came to my writing desk and sat in the wooden chair, my thighs parted in silent invitation. Should she wish to come closer, I would not stop her until I felt it prudent to do so.

There was hesitation in her stare, but only barely. The witch moved across my floor and slowly sank to her knees again, between my feet. Her hands came to rest on my knees, punching them apart so she could settle better between my thighs. The linen trousers I wore did nothing to hide my growing excitement, the tented fabric betraying the arousal I tried so hard to control in her presence. My breath hitched as her fingers crawled higher towards the laced-up waist of my trousers. She was mere inches away from where I craved her touch, and through my blind lust, I was able to steel my resolve and reach for her chin. “Not now, pet,” I cooed to her, gripping her chin between my thumb and forefinger.

Brilliant green eyes widened in surprised shock, and I could have sworn a tinge of pink rosied her tanned cheeks. Myla’s touch halted completely, much to my dismay, and I watched as her lips twitched open in a stuttering breath. Confusion clouded her gaze, and I chose not to wait for her to question it, lest my own resolve finally crumble. “I…” I paused, clearing my throat as I thought up a convincing enough ruse. “Have far too much on my mind to enjoy your company in that manner.” Not wholly a lie, but nowhere near the truth of the matter.

My chin rose again, and I withdrew my touch from the woman while gesturing for her to stand. She did so without question, keeping her gaze turned dorn from mine. I managed to catch her eyes only briefly as they scanned the open tome on my writing desk. I’d not left it open on purpose, but at this moment I was grateful for my convenient oversight.

“Are you-” I heard her softly say. Nearly as soon as she spoke, terror struck her features and her cheeks reddened once again. Myla took a deep breath in through her nose and bowed quickly. “May I speak, Sir?”

This woman was treading as carefully as she could in my presence, and her nerves were starting to get to her. I had to fight my natural reaction to twist those delicately bound wrists around and take what should rightfully be mine. Instead, I let my tented brows relax and exhaled deeply. “You may,” I replied.

Myla let out a sigh of what I could only imagine was relief, and her shoulders relaxed some. “If I may, Your Highness. You seem to be reading up on the old Arcane Artes.” Myla gestured to the book on my desk, and I looked from her back to the book.

“An astute observation,” I said with the hint of a chuckle playing in my tone. “I must admit I’ve been intrigued by magic for quite some time.” My fingers traced over the dried ink on the yellowed page, circling the large symbol at the head of the page as I let out a contemplative sigh. My gaze shot back to the pleasure slave, carefully noting the wonder that seemed to sparkle in her eyes amidst the confusion.

“May I ask why?” She continued. “To my knowledge, mages have been outlawed in your lands for centuries.” There was a tinge of fire to her tone. Myla was no doubt defensive of her abilities and the fact that her type was often heavily prosecuted in my kingdom. And on the surface, I couldn’t blame her. The same fear of being ostracized rang in my mind too. Only, my fear ran far deeper.

I took a shallow breath and nodded at her question. “They are,” I confirmed. “You’re the first mage to be brought to the castle alive in decades.”

Myla looked down at her hands as she clasped them in front of her, emerald eyes glistening with worry. “I see,” she said softly.

“So,” I continued, taking the opening for what it was. “You are also the only person who might be able to explain some of this nonsense to me.”

Myla stiffened before she looked back up at me. “Is that an order, Sir?” she questioned. Her hands were shaking, and her full lips were pressed into a thin line. Worry creased her brow, and it felt as though there was an unseen heat lingering in the air. It was stifling and suffocating in the same way my own struggles felt. Was this truly what the sensation of another’s magic felt like?

Deep thought filled me as I ran my hand over my chin. I could keep it an order and force her to reveal everything to me in a matter of hours. Or… Another idea came to me, and my lips twisted into a sly grin. “It could be,” I offered, rising to my feet. “Or,” I continued. “It could be a deal.”

“A deal?” the woman questioned. The fingers of her hand twitched, and I realized she must have been aching to reach for her own binding collar. “What sort of deal?”

“Easy,” I growled low, taking a few short steps closer to her. “You teach me everything you know about magic.” My fingers lightly trailed up the exposed strip of skin that ran up the center of her wrapped dress. Her skin prickled and tensed under my touch until I rose high enough to hook my finger onto the ring that hung from her binding collar. “And I request you more often, in order to keep you out of my father’s chambers.”

Both sides of the deal greatly benefited me moreso than her, but I wasn’t about to tell my little pet that. This was my first step towards gaining her trust. And if doing so meant keeping her body and attention all to myself, then so be it. I would be happy to indulge in those delectable treats.

Myla seemed to weigh her options for a moment or two, and I saw the concern flash across her features in a matter of seconds. After a few agonizing moments of silence, the mage nodded her head and looked at me with a fierce look of determination. “You promise you’ll keep me from him?”

The fear with which her words rang was perplexing. I knew my father to be ruthless, but for her to be so shaken after such a short time here… I gave a firm nod. “As often as I can,” I said, leaning forward and allowing my lips to barely brish over hers. “And should your lessons prove fruitful, I might allow you a reward.”

The mage gasped at my touch, and I smiled to myself. With any luck, I could wind up that pretty mess of fiery beauty tight enough until she snapped and fell into my every advance of her own volition. It seemed to me at that moment that I truly could not lose. And when I felt Myla nod ever so slightly, I let out another low rasping chuckle. “Good girl,” I whispered. “That is all for this morning,” I said as I pulled away.

Confusion struck her in a way I wasn’t expecting. By the look of it, she was still expecting to be treated as she had been this past week. But I didn’t want to sour my good connection so quickly. I gave her another confirming nod and rose my finger to my lips. “It would be wise you keep our arrangement quiet,” I added. “Mother would not take kindly to it, you see.” I flashed her a wink and watched as she straightened where she stood.

“I understand, Your Highness,” Myla said with a bow. As she was bent forward at the waist, her eyes flicked up to mine as she whispered a quiet “Thank you.” The appreciation caught me off guard, and I felt a genuine pang of pain in my chest. When she finally rose, I moved to the door and held it open for her, silently motioning for her to take her leave and continue on to her next appointment.

Alone again, I let out a tense breath and leaned my head against the cold stone walls. Gods above what was I getting myself into?