Watching someone dear and cherished slowly lose their mind was the hardest thing I’d ever had to experience. A year ago, a month, a day, I would have called any fortune teller predicting this a fraud.
But I followed the stone steps down into the basement of the manor, uncertain I wanted to find out why I’d awoken alone this morning. I suspected I knew.
Burying my head in the sand would do us little good. What would I tell our subjects? What would I tell myself? Outside, autumn flourished. Down here, the dank smell of mildew strengthened with each step. I hadn’t believed I’d needed the fur coat but followed the suggestion anyway. Thankfully.
Dull embers of an oil lamp led me on.
Upon reaching the final step, I lost the power necessary to propel my body forward. A harrowing growl came from beyond the wooden door. Behind the thick barrier, a madman cursed, on it…black letters formed, traveled up, then down, then faded yet again.
Sorem, the magistrate, and owner of this manor bestowed by the king, stood guard. The red and black of his robes faded in and out of view thanks to the trembling lamplight. He turned his weary eyes on me. “The—the spell was the best we could do.”
My mouth went dry, forcing me to wheeze out both a question and statement, “It says it’s to hold something otherworldly.”
Below his dark robes, Sorem drew his shoulders up. He refused to meet my gaze. Instead, he muttered, “This is the best we can do. But it won’t hold him, ma’am. We should turn him over.”
I could not argue with that.
The next growl shook the house’s very foundation. Specks of debris fell before us. While Sorem wisely shielded his eyes, I stared at the door.
I had to face this sooner or later.
“When we go in—”
“That won’t be necessary,” I said, cutting him off. “I fear nothing from that man.”
Sorem’s head rotated until he faced me. His lips parted but nothing in my foolish decision would nourish a coherent sentence beyond a, “Huh?”
There was no point in repeating myself, but I said, “Give us some privacy. Do not come down here until I call for you.”
“Your Majesty—”
He approached me but rethought those actions when my fingers touched the metal of the door. One bolt sounded on the other side. All fell silent in the wake of that.
The creature behind it no longer growled and caused a ruckus. Hell, even Sorem had held his breath.
Again and again, I reminded myself that he wouldn’t recognize me. He hadn’t the last time this happened. But that had been months ago, and he’d promised he’d had himself under control.
This was anything but that.
I just had to look at him—to see that he was very much still alive and not impaled on his own knife while lying in bed with me. If I saw that he lived, no matter what had become of him, I could let go. I was sure of it.”
The coat on my shoulders concerned me. I debated taking it off. He’d surely comment. But what I wore below it was far more offensive in his eyes, so I decided to leave it.
A third and final lock unbolted on the other side and Sorem stepped back to give me room. “You don’t have to do this. Eventually, he’d wear down the enchantment and set himself free. And then—”
“And then he’d escape, and I’d never see him again.”
Sorem scoffed. “If you were lucky. There’s a reason you and he can’t be together. This goes deeper than any spell.”
I stepped in, careful to hold the door as it swung shut on its own. Slamming it in his face wasn’t my intent, though I was tempted, but I simply couldn’t stand any more reminders. Now with it closed, there was no going back.
The room was pitch black. It wouldn’t stay that way, I was certain, so I waited.
Nothing disturbed the quiet, not vermin, not an insect, nothing.
After an eternity, a gruff voice drawled, “I might have known it was you.”
My heart soared. No. I wasn’t what he’d expected but he sounded far gentler than I’d thought.
“Do you have my pipe?” Pipe? He’d never used a pipe before. When I took too long to answer, he added, “Conjure me up one if you’re so absent minded.”
My throat tightened. “I—I don’t know how to do that,” I confessed.
He scoffed. “Aye. So you haven’t come to talk? Very well. What do you want from me?”
The words leaping from my mouth sounded so raw and unsophisticated. “I—I surely do.”
“Do what?” he demanded.
What was left of my weakened heart shriveled up. I wasn’t used to him speaking to me like this. “To talk. I want to talk. I’ve come to talk.”
In the black upon black, I could not make him out. If only he’d move, even a bit. I was certain I could see him then—see if he were healthy; if he were well; if…if he weren’t injured.
“You’ve taken me prisoner—”
A gasp left me. “You’re not a prisoner.”
“You have me below ground.” Something darted forward. Chain links sounded against one another then stiffened. “In metal. You have me in iron.” Through gritted teeth, he warned, “Well, not for long. I will get free. I will rise from this tomb you’ve forced me into. And I will best whomever you send to kill me.”
When I reached out, somehow, I’d known he was close. My fingertips danced along his powdered skin. I told myself the tension from his body faded because he was familiar with me, finally.
His next words proved me wrong. “Ah. So that’s why you’ve come? Can’t say I blame you. I am quite extraordinary.” A warm breath brushed against my cheek. “I can promise you an exquisite time.” Two smooth lips traced my skin then whispered by my ear. “If I provide a ripe enough fuck, then will you set me free?”
I must have tensed because he laughed.
“What sort of being of magic are you?” he asked, insulted.
This was bad. When he’d advanced on me previously, I’d foolishly sought negotiations. That hadn’t turned out well. But by the time that attempt soured, this madman was gone and the Adonis who usually inhabited his body was back.
“I’m—I’m not really of magic,” I confessed.
Till now, he’d always had a fast response, even when in his right mind. My words shocked him.
“Woman, I can see you have power. Through and through. Should you want to romp, then let us conduct business in a sporting fashion.”
And then he said it—demanded the one thing I could not do.
“Release me.”
Madness.
Perhaps he saw how wide my eyes became. Maybe the way my breath caught told of my reluctance and borderline panic.
Whatever the reason, he darted for me, but the chains stopped him, his nose a mere breath from mine.
“Release. Me.”
Each heaving of his chest sent my own caving in—my heart broke. I’d never seen him like this. He was gentle usually and only aggressive when put in danger. This was someone a complete polar opposite to him. But to hear that voice, to feel that familiarity with words and cadence so foreign…it hurt.
I’d been in iron before. When I’d been human, I’d taken it for granted. After I was cursed and transformed into a being of magic, I’d suffered the iron burns upon my capture. He’d been the one to rescue me. So I imagined him now, much like he’d been back then—a gentleman. That was why I put our foreheads together and brought both hands up to caress his face.
“I’m not your enemy. Please. I just want to talk to you.”
He surprised me by quieting. Imaginings of the pain of the chains were why I held that stern face longer than was polite. To him, I was no one but an opposition.
I reminded myself of that and thought to remedy my moment of weakness. His hot lips caught mine. Everything in me said to stop. But just yesterday, we’d been together. This had been behind us.
Our kiss broke because I tilted my chin up to give him access to my throat.
“When will you set me free?” he asked against my neck.
This close to him, I trembled. “You’re dangerous.”
“I make no arguments there. You still did not answer me.”
But what answer could I give? I’d never lied to him before.
“You touch me like you care for me,” he accused, “going so far as to kiss me. And yet, you keep me bound, knowing how excruciating this is. Such cruelty….”
Hands caressing his face, I begged, “Forgive me. I wouldn’t if there were any other way.” A running of my fingers along his brow showed them creased. When I attempted to kiss him again, he turned his face. I supposed I couldn’t blame him.
“Take what you want.”
But I already had it. “I just want your company.”
In the stillness of the black, I could hear the slowly budding amusement in his voice. “Then come closer.”
So that I was in arm’s length? Madness.
When I didn’t take the bait, his voice softened. “I long for your lips again.”
That simple request brought me joy and he surely felt my smile when I pressed our lips together.
After a moment, he whispered against my parted mouth, “Not there.”
I leaned away, more out of instinct.
The gravel in his voice deepened. “Come. If we are friends, then prove it. You got me locked down here. Chained up as you pet and kiss me. Should you want a plaything, I am all for it. You hide yourself in that disgusting animal fur, but I can follow the outline of you just fine. Rest assured, I am pleased with your lovely attributes thus far.”
Once again, this fur coat had come into play. I shouldn’t have expected anything else. Even when back to normal, he’d expressed distaste for it.
I hesitated but once before allowing it to fall to the ground.
Disgust dripped from his voice. “Our kind have no need for clothing.” He concluded, “You are masquerading as human. How distasteful.”
“I do no such thing,” I countered. “As I’ve said, I hadn’t always been this way. It…it’s difficult to explain.”
The chains slackened. He walked away.
Without a doubt, I longed for him, but what was I doing here? Consider me dead, he’d said, because once I forget who you are, love. I am no one to you.
But was that all he was—all any of us were? Memories?
Was there nothing further on a cosmic level? I wasn’t sure but I unbuttoned the collar of the dress I wore. As soon as it fell to the ground, the chains rattled. The rest came off rather easily, but I kept on my boots—surely, he’d allow me that much.
Another chiming of the chains had my pulse racing. I hadn’t moved from the spot; it was close enough for our lips to touch. Therefore, I closed my eyes and waited for that kiss.
It came, against my left nipple.
When I yelp, it wasn’t because his action had startled me, not really. Because even in his right mind, this was where he’d usually started his worshiping of my flesh.
Relaxing, I let my guard down.
Two strong hands snatched me close. His ardent body pressed against mine. I was caught. Thoughts of having to explain my foolishness had me looking away, focusing on the dimly lit ground.
My attempt to pull away was genuine, as was his grip tightening.
“Interesting. You do not attack me.”
Mortified, I was discrete as I tried to twist free, fearful he’d realize just how ill-equipped I was to physically oppose him. Yes, he and I were meant to be counterparts. In theory, the magic coursing through my veins matched his. Unfortunately, he had two thousand years of memories to guide his skill. I…well…I should have practiced harder.
“You pull away?” he complained. “I’d thought you wanted this.”
He took a step back. Each sounding of the chains reminded me how far into his clutches I was dragged.
Somehow, I lost power. And I couldn’t say why. I had no fear for him in my heart. No one had ever been able to convince me that he was anything short of a saint before we’d met. I’d heard the rumors. And I’d ignored each and every one of them. But he’d never disputed even one.
I did not want to believe it.
This was the man I’d shared a bed with.
“Oh? Now where has all your talk gone?”
His teasing had prompted me to make another attempt at finding freedom.
The grip was like a vice. “Come now. You said you wanted my company. You shall have it.”
A quivering breath left me along with a plea, “Stop.”
All became still. It took me some time to find the courage to open my eyes. The wings at his back burned red, painting him in faint yellows and oranges.
“You have it backwards. Look at you and then look at me, Majesty. I’m the one in chains.” His eyes explored me, first my face, then down my neck, breast, and the rest. “I’m more than satisfied with my captor but, Majesty, you must do better work on your hostage negotiations. Here. I’ll give you a lesson. You have me in chains, and I seek freedom. And I’m a fine specimen of a male of magic—one you say is dangerous,” he added, stealing the words from my mouth. “One you seem to enjoy kissing and petting. Now, you negotiate thusly. I satisfy any request you’ll have of me. And you let me go.”
His loosened grip should have brought me relief but instead, my heart thumped against my chest.
“I can’t set you free,” I admitted.
Eyes fixed on me, he descended to his knees. “Terrible. An utterly dreadful kidnapper.”
The challenge was one I longed to run from. Everything in me said to turn on my heels, grab my clothing and make a mad dash for the door before I did anything foolish.
But that smirk. The glow of his wings, extended behind him as if they were plucked off butterflies and pasted on his back instead. They shimmered against that smug expression.
What was I thinking coming here? I asked myself that. And I certainly questioned my sanity a second time when I caught hold of the back of his head, brought my right leg up along his left shoulder, slipped two fingers between my legs and spread those lips for him.
This was so unlike me. The smile on his face and the soft laugh to follow meant he formed that conclusion as well. Perhaps that was why he pressed his tongue against wet clit, making quite a noisy ruckus as he went about trying to guarantee his release.
My body trembled. Despite my attempt at being stern and…authoritative, the soft moans to leave me, followed by my body trembling, would have convinced no one.
He was wicked in his effort. First, he spread my ass with his chained hands, then ran his fingers up my back, reached around and fondled my breasts. His hands held my waist next.
I, having long abandoned spreading myself for him, ran my fingers through his hair.
He sucked on the bud of my clit until I yanked his hair, desperate to hold on.
Finally, he planted one final noisy kiss there before looking up at me. “What would you have me do now, Majesty?”
Never had I heard such guttural words from that familiar voice. Everything about his face was the same as it always was, and yet, I could not recognize the determination there. The hunger in his gaze sent a shiver through me.
“Stroke yourself and allow me to see.”
Head cocked, he remained still, eyes fixed on me. Why hadn’t he moved? Perhaps I’d said it wrong. After clearing my throat with the intent of trying again, I quieted. His wings moved faster, bring a yellow glow which filled the room.
To my surprise, he was already tracing his shaft, his gaze never leaving me.
“Is this enough?”
I gave no answer until his eyes closed and he slowed in an attempt to stave off his orgasm.
“Stand,” I ordered. “And do not move.”
The curiosity of his expression changed to surprise when I knelt and kissed below his thick shaft.
“Well,” he said with a gasp, “this is not behavior I expected from a queen.”
I ran my lips up then down his silky phallus then took the tip into my mouth. Perhaps he was a stranger to me now, but the man I knew loved it particularly when I took him all the way to the back of my throat in one go.
Eyes closed, I took the sharp gasp as a good sign.
“Majesty,” he panted, “wouldn’t you rather I please you instead?”
I pumped his erection with both hands, my tongue circling the knob. This did please me—especially when his body twitched, and he nearly fell to his knees.
Before long, he was arched, huffing, and puffing. The fluttering wings at his back gave off a warm breeze—it also kept him from buckling at the knees.
Gone was his bravado.
Despite his anguish, the hand on my cheek was considerably gentler. He eased me back, eyes heavy lit when he asked, “May I have you?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “And not your freedom?”
His answer took time. “Captivity such as you offer, I can bear a bit longer.”
I sucked his knob one last time then rose to my feet.
“Should—” The noise of the chains cut me off.
He dragged me close, and my body slammed against his. Two strong hands hoisted my legs up. My back pressed against the tepid stone wall of the cellar.
Kisses danced along the right side of my throat like scattered apologies as he hurried to ready himself. The pounding of his heartbeat against mine quelled when he slipped inside me. A dull ache came with his thick member throbbing, inching deeper, giving my body time to adjust to the intrusion. And then he stilled, savoring our connection.
He fit as if we were made for one another. While dormant, our connection was full yet snug, but it took only one shifting of his hips to reveal the tight friction binding us.
After a long bout of silence, a hiss accompanied his slow lunge. “I regret this,” he panted. “I should stay forever bound here with a fuck this sweet. You’ve made it so I cannot seek escape.”
I could say the same—because he felt different. Each time he held my waist and pulled me to him while he rammed into me, there was no way to ignore the unfamiliarity in his style of lovemaking this time. He took me hard, like a stranger. Sometimes pain mixed with the pleasure from it. And when I made a sound, he slowed, allowing me calm.
As I buried my face in his neck and cried out, he warned, “I’m near spent.”
A hungry gnaw of his shoulder on my part came with his warm seed filling me. The façade faded and I held his waist, inviting him to go deeper as my orgasm washed all over me as well.
His rod slipped out of me and he rubbed our groins together, spreading his musk. I couldn’t say when I lost time, only that we crumpled to the floor together before doing so. Upon awakening to something soft against my face, I opened my eyes to find my fur coat snugly wrapped around me.
It was a thoughtful gesture, so I smiled. I pulled it closed and chains jingled. Disbelieving, I unwrapped myself from the warm prison and held up both hands to see the iron now clasping me.
Words of complaint and protest were meaningless. A scan of the cell showed him gone.
This story shares the same world as "The Hunchback's Reluctant Bride."
