The Serpent's Chains

Sabine

Warm, soft lips moved against mine.

My head swam, my lungs empty and screaming for air. I gasped and a rush of air made my head spin more.

Prince Cole's mouth pressed more firmly and with a mind of their own, my lips matched his movements.

My stomach lurched and I squirmed, his strong body and the stone wall a vice around me. Heat raced across my skin like wildfire and my insides clenched. My heart hammered against my chest, dancing to a rhythm all its own.

His tongue flicked across my lower lip, a light, teasing touch concealing a deepening desire. I parted my lips slightly, ready to accept him.

Clarity rammed into me and all at once, I felt like I was being forced back into my body like a rock dropping to the ground. The euphoria and lightheadedness vanished.

This was all wrong. Princes and slaves did not...

I squirmed against Prince Cole's brick wall frame and pushed at his chest. My hands barely made an impression against his muscles. If he commanded me, I wasn't in a position to say "no."

No, this was all wrong.

I pushed harder at his chest, to no avail. His tongue traced my lower lip again. I bit down hard on the prince's lip and felt his skin break.

He grunted and stepped back, releasing his grip on me. A bloody smirk crossed his lips and he dabbed at the bit with his knuckle.

"That was interesting, wasn't it?" He chuckled.

My heart fluttered and I stared at him. "Interesting?" I rubbed my forehead, my breath refusing to stick in my lungs. The heat all over my body wouldn't abate. What was happening to me?

The prince ran his finger along his bottom lip. "Yes, interesting." He tapped the cut on his mouth.

"Your Majesty I... I..." Words failed me. I shrugged and looked down. I drew the prince's blood. That was unforgivable.

I dropped down on my knees and pressed my palms and forehead to the floor. There was no begging for forgiveness. There was nothing that would save me from the Prince's sword.

"Whatever punishment is to descend on me, please make it quick, Your Highness." My words echoed off the floor.

Every muscle in my body was taught and ready to spring. I held my breath, waiting for the prince to hand down his judgment.

"Stand up, Sabine." He chuckled and I heard his footsteps move further away from me.

My breath trembled as I sat back on my heels. I kept my eyes down. My chest heaved. If he was going to cut off my head, I didn't want to see it coming.

"I'm not going to punish you."

"But I..." I rubbed my hands on my thighs. "I drew your blood. Your royalty."

"I believe I told you that everyone has the right to defend themselves."

Slowly, I raised my eyes.

He swiped his hand along his lip, wiping away the rest of his blood. The prince wore a subtle smile. He watched me closely.

"I am not permitted such luxuries."

The prince scoffed. "You're not an exception to 'everyone.'"

"I'm a slave." I pressed my hands to my heart.

"Slaves are people. They fall under the umbrella of 'everyone.' I want you on your feet."

"O-okay." I pressed my hand to the wall and rose to my feet. My legs wobbled and my breath still trembled.

"You're afraid." The prince took a step closer. He reached toward me and took a step closer. His eyes narrowed and he dropped his arm to the side and turned away. "That won't happen again!"

"I'm not afraid."

He glanced over his shoulder at me. "No?"

My cheeks flared with heat and I dropped my eyes. Feverish was more accurate, but that was completely inappropriate.

"Hmm." The prince chuckled humorlessly. "You should go." He waved to the door.

"Y-yes..." I bowed to him and headed to the adjoining door. My temples throbbed and I rubbed them.

So many thoughts raced through my mind. What just happened? This was too much for me to process.

***

Cole

Sabine's footsteps faltered every other step. She mumbled under her breath, her words dying in the air before they reached me. Like a man possessed, I watched her leave, unable to pull my eyes away.

The scent of cloves and earth lingered behind her, It was her scent, still trapped in my nostrils from how close we were.

Click.

The door between our rooms snapped shut and I broke from my trance. "Well, this isn't good..." I pressed my fingers to my forehead.

I thought it went rather well. Talon's thoughts were light and playful.

What does that mean?

She responded correctly, didn't she? Before she bit you.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Leave it to a dragon. That's not the point. I... own her. My thoughts tripped over the word 'own.' Referring to her as a slave was easier.

People as property... I shook my head. Wyatt had the right idea when it came to that industry.

Many slaves partake in such relations. She is human, she could want it as many of you do.

And slaves are required to do whatever their master says. It isn't a choice and they cannot refuse. That's not grounds to begin anything... enjoyable.

I ran my fingers through my hair. Talon was wise and intelligent in many ways. Human relationships were beyond the scope of his expertise.

Yet, you keep inviting her to speak her mind, to exercise freedom. And when she does, I feel what you feel.

She vexes me.

I clasped my hands on the back of my neck and paced the room. It was late but I wasn't in the mood to sleep. My skin hummed with heat and unfulfilled tension. I had to get out of here.

I tied my shirt in place and found a tunic to throw on. Talon's mind followed me as I headed to my study.

Then let her vex you.

Not going to happen.

You could use it. You haven't been this pent up since...

Talon! I stopped dead and slammed my palm into the nearest wall. Why won't you get off this?

You're making me itch.

I rolled my eyes at the empty corridor. I've got work to do, do you mind?

Silence.

I went to my desk and pulled out the latest reports Wyatt sent me. His wax seal was still unbroken on the scrolls.

Dim lamplight flickered in the corner of my desk. The rest of the room was hidden in shadow as I read the news from the battlefields. More reports coming in from outer villages of increased mage activity. Stivalia was encroaching on our borders with cheap, guerilla tactics.

Wyatt sent hand-drawn maps with notations of mage activity and their suspected routes through Telasia. I studied the maps for patterns. My eyelids drooped and weariness lapped at the edges of my mind.

I set a map aside and my eyes fixed on my palm. I could still feel the steady, rhythmic thump of Sabine's heart. Not frenzied and erratic like I'd expect from someone who was afraid or unsure. She insisted she wasn't afraid... which left few other options for her flustered reaction.

She vexes you still. Talon's thoughts broke into mine.

Groaning, I flexed my fingers and turned back to my work. I'm curious about her. How could someone as intelligent, observant, and magically proficient become a slave?

Easily, when being taken advantage of as a child.

I grunted. That's not what I meant. She's powerful, her mother was powerful. Why didn't the royal mages ever pick up on them?

Perhaps they weren't looking for the right thing. But those are not the thoughts that currently weigh on your mind.

I rolled the maps up and tucked them away. Their analysis could wait for when I wasn't falling asleep in my chair. It was all busy work to distract myself and it wasn't working.

I thought of her smooth, soft skin and how it gave under my strength. The rosy color on her face and bosom and her steady eyes that never wavered. Her entire body trembled against me but she wasn't afraid. She was feverish.

Heat shot straight to my groin. I clenched my fists and forced the feeling away. If I couldn't distract myself here, it was futile to try. I shook my head and returned to my room.

Why her? There were plenty of more sensible choices in the palace. I didn't lack company when I wanted it. It would be easy to acquire a new concubine.

You don't need a concubine to scratch that particular itch. Talon reminded me—just a willing mate.

Chuckling, I shed my clothing and slipped into bed. The dragon had a point. She is neither, and can never be either. Can you let it go?

No. When you are cranky, I feel it. It's very unpleasant.

Cranky?

Pent up.

Please, can we drop this?

She's a slave, yet you show her more respect than you showed your former lovers.

How do you figure? I propped myself up on my elbow and looked toward the window where I sensed Talon resting.

Any other woman that appealed to you in this way, you wouldn't agonize over. But you keep your distance from her. You could free her as a slave and uncomplicate the moral issue. But you don't.

I threw my arm over my eyes. Sleep would have been great. If I did that, you know it would cause a lot of other problems.

Under your protection, she'd be out of reach to anyone else.

I sighed and ran my hands down my face. "My father would love the prospect of a powerful mage as my future wife..." I spoke to the darkness but the dragon could hear me, "It's not respect, Talon. It's self-preservation."