Pleasure's Offering (12 page)

“Especially augmented by a dark moon,” Izar added, rubbing the golden stubble on his chin. “But what’s he doing?”

“I don’t know,” Zoa said. “But I know Toric well enough to guess it’s no good.”

“Why doesn’t your goddess stop him, then?” Izar said. “He’s her servant.”

Zoa started to answer, but Jeric beat her to it. “Dezira is neither good nor evil,” he said. “She doesn’t care for people, only for desire. So long as Toric is acting on his desire, his actions are in her service.” He sighed. “She’s probably happy to have so much power gathered and spent in her name.”

Zoa slumped forward. “This is bad. I wonder if Silas knows about it yet.”

“Silas?” Izar said.

“The head of our temple,” Zoa clarified. “He’s in charge of making sure Dezira’s Chosen play well with the law. The Empire is sacred to Solus, the Great Sun and Dezira’s brother, and it’s not wise to upset him.”

“I bet,” Izar snorted. “But there’s nothing we can do, right?”

Zoa shook her head, but even though there was nothing she could do on this boat, she couldn’t banish the nervous energy that roared through her body. With each second the night wore on, Toric’s presence grew in her mind. She could almost feel the magic he was working now. Enormous didn’t begin to describe it. What in Dezira’s name was he making?

But Toric’s wasn’t the only magic taking hold. As the bond’s influence grew, the memories of her Awakening came back, bringing with them the old, deep shame. It was so overwhelming, she didn’t even realize she’d started to cry until Jeric and Izar grabbed her. Izar’s arms were gentle, but Jeric was holding her like he’d never let go. Of course, he could feel her distress through their bond. He knew.

“I don’t know,” Jeric whispered.

Zoa jerked. Bonds were strengthened by physical proximity, but she must be really upset if he was picking up her thoughts.

“Tell us, Zoa,” Jeric said, hugging her tighter. “You don’t have to carry this alone. Tell us what happened so we can help you. Whatever it is, we’re here.”

Izar nodded and pulled her into his lap. “Tell us, darling,” he whispered, kissing her neck gently. “Secrecy only gives him power. But you belong to us and we won’t let him have power over you. Talk.”

Zoa leaned against him. Izar’s chest was strong and warm. So were Jeric’s arms around her. She’d spent so long avoiding what had happened that night, but now the memories were hammering on her mind until they threatened to pound her to pieces. But she wouldn’t let them. She wasn’t alone. And so, with a deep breath, she told them.

* * * * *

Five years ago, before she was Zoa, Chosen of Dezira, she was Zoa, the miller’s pretty daughter. She’d lived in a small, prosperous town on the Empire’s western coast with her father and older sister. She was just eighteen, and her sister Mina had taken it upon herself to introduce Zoa into the pleasures of sex before she was married off.

For this purpose, they’d gone out into the countryside, away from everyone they knew, to a Traveler’s horse fair. The Travelers were a wild, free people who honored Dezira above all other gods and had no problem at all with two young ladies seeking nights of pleasure. Even so, Zoa was shy, but Mina was forward and confident as always, and she found them both fine lovers.

Zoa was so excited. All her teenage life, she’d had a burning inside her, a desperate need that nothing could satisfy. She’d watched men, and even some women, with a lust that scared her, and she was dripping with excitement when the Traveler boy her sister had found her finally took her virginity.

Looking back, he was everything she could have asked for in a first lover, skilled and considerate with unusual attentiveness for a teenage boy, but at the time, Zoa had felt nothing but crushing disappointment. Though the boy found release, she found nothing but frustration. The long-anticipated penetration left her frantic and wanting rather than satisfied. Convinced the boy had done something wrong, she’d asked her sister for another lover. Mina had agreed, but the next boy was worse than the first. For three more nights, they tried in vain, but none of the young men could quench the fire that was threatening to burn Zoa alive, and she began to wonder if she wasn’t the problem.

Finally, she told her sister she wanted to go home. She couldn’t stand staying with these free, beautiful people who all seemed to be able to do what she couldn’t. She was deficient, broken. She couldn’t come. Her sister dismissed her worries, saying she just hadn’t found the right lover yet, but nothing she said could convince Zoa and finally Mina agreed to cut their trip short and head home.

They were driving their little cart on a lonely stretch of highway between the plains where the Travelers held their gatherings and the hilly coast of home when the riders came upon them. It was a grand procession, nearly fifty soldiers and a great carriage bearing the Vallus family crest. Zoa and her sister had pulled their cart to the side to let them past when the whole troop suddenly stopped. The carriage ground to a halt, and a man leaned out the window, staring straight at Zoa with an intensity that left her helpless as a rabbit frozen by a hawk’s scream.

Even now, years later, the memory of her first glimpse of Toric Vallus left her breathless. He wasn’t as handsome as most of the Moon’s Chosen, but he didn’t need to be. Power radiated from him like heat from a forge. He was tall and broad shouldered, muscled like a career soldier with olive skin, brown eyes, and neat, dark hair cut short. With his grand carriage and stylish coat, he looked like a gentleman, but there was nothing gentlemanly about the way he sat back and calmly ordered his men to grab the girls.

Frozen by Toric, Zoa didn’t even try to resist, but Mina did. She fought the soldiers tooth and nail, screaming for Zoa to run, but Zoa couldn’t. She couldn’t even move as the soldiers grabbed her and tied her arms and legs, tossing her in the cart with the rest of the baggage. Mina went in next, trussed like a pig for market, and then the procession started again, the soldiers laughing and jeering as they rode away, leaving Zoa and Mina’s little cart and pony abandoned on the roadside.

Zoa didn’t remember much of the ride, but she remembered being pulled from the cart when the soldiers stopped to set up camp. She and Mina were dragged to a large tent that was set up at the camp’s highest point. From the outside, it looked like an officer’s war tent, the kind usually filled with maps and strategists plotting offensives, but the inside had nothing to do with war. It was huge, the tarp covered ground strewn with thick carpets until it was almost squishy under their feet. The whole place felt more like a pleasure palace than a tent in a field, but no place was more luxurious that the large cushioned pallet laid out at the very back.

There, sitting on the pallet like the piled mattresses were an imperial throne, was the man from the carriage. Toric Vallus was shirtless, wearing only his tight trousers and leather riding boots. He looked almost bored as the soldiers marched Zoa and her sister in, but the boredom vanished when he told Zoa to come to him.

To her eternal shame, Zoa went willingly. Looking back, she knew she never had a chance to resist him. Unawakened Avatars are drawn to the Moon’s Own like moths to flame, and despite everything that would happen next, Zoa had to admit Toric’s attraction wasn’t just because he was Chosen. It was simply impossible to be next to so much constrained power and not want to touch it.

The soldiers cut her ropes and left her standing in front of Toric. He caught her chin, turning her head to examine her profile like she was a horse he was considering buying.

“Well, well,” he said in a low voice pitched for her ears alone. “The Lady works in mysterious ways, throwing one of her unawakened into my path.”

Zoa shuddered, growing wet and eager just from the sound of his condescending voice, and her cheeks colored in shame. She knew she should be terrified, but all she wanted was for this man to take her. The desire must have been clear in her eyes, for Toric’s face broke into the cruelest smile she’d ever seen.

“Aren’t you a pretty one?” He said, running his fingers roughly down her body. “I always wanted to bring in an Avatar, but old Silas would never permit it. He thinks I’d be too rough with them. But I think you like it rough.” His hand grabbed her breast and squeezed painfully. “Or you will, once I’m done with you.”

Zoa began to pant. Her brain was so muddled, she couldn’t even form words, but Mina could.

“Don’t touch her!”

Toric looked up, and his smile grew crueler still. “But she wants to be touched. Don’t you, little sparrow?”

Body trembling, Zoa could only nod.

“Zoa!” Mina cried. “Snap out of it!”

“Zoa.” Toric’s deep, rich voice drew out the word. “Is that your name, little bird?”

Zoa nodded again.

Toric took her shoulder and slowly turned her around. “Well, then, Zoa,” he said, hands slipping down to strip her dress from her shoulders. “Why don’t you tell your meddling friend to stay out of our business.”

“She’s my sister,” Zoa whispered.

The words were barely out of her mouth before Toric struck the back of her head.

“You will speak only when spoken to,” he said coldly.

Zoa had never been struck in her life, and the blow sent her to her knees. Mina screamed and tried to run forward, but she was still tied and the soldiers held her fast.

“I think I’ve had enough of this,” Toric said. “Look at me, girl.”

The command was directed at Mina, and to Zoa’s surprise, her sister obeyed, looking straight at Toric. The second her eyes met Toric’s, a wave of lust washed over the room. The sheer power of it blanked Zoa’s mind, but she wasn’t its target. The force was directed at Mina, and as it struck her, her eyes glazed over.

“That’s better,” Toric said, reached down to tug Zoa to her feet. “This little bird is mine, but my soldiers get lonely with no one to play with. I want you to keep them company, understand?”

Mina nodded, her cheeks flushing.

Toric smiled. “Good. Treat her well.”

The soldiers laughed at their lord’s order and began to strip off Mina’s clothes. She helped them, clawing at her dress until she was naked. Zoa watched, horrified, as her sister, who up until a few seconds ago had been the clearheaded one, grabbed the closest soldier and began to fumble with his trousers. His erection was painfully obvious already and Mina was nearly out of her mind trying to get to it while the other men pawed her body. That was all Zoa could take before she looked away.

“Don’t be like that, little sparrow.” Toric’s voice whispered in her ear. “See how much she likes it?”

His hand was like an iron vise on her jaw as he turned her head back, forcing her to look. The four guards holding Mina were naked now and she was all over them, fawning over the four plain men as though they were gods. Disgust clenched Zoa’s throat tight and she slammed her eyes shut, but even that couldn’t keep out her sister’s moaning voice.

Thankfully, Toric didn’t make her watch any more. Instead, he tore away what remained of her dress and threw her on the pallet. The soft cushion sank beneath her, spoiling Zoa’s attempts to scramble off. She wouldn’t have gotten far even if she hadn’t been mired by the soft surface, though, for Toric was on her like a panther, pinning her arms with one of his large hands. The other he drew over her body, his fingers pressing her so hard he left bruises behind.

“You
are
lovely,” he said, his voice deep and growling. “Far lovelier than your sister, though not as easily excited.”

This was punctuated by a particularly loud moan from Mina. Toric’s eyes slid sideways as an indulgent smile crept over his face, and a fresh stab of fear landed in Zoa’s stomach.

“That’s our power, you know,” Toric went on, eyes returning to her. “We command the humans, tearing down the walls they build to protect themselves, never realizing that they are building their own prison.” His face drew into a sneer. “How stupid, to voluntarily put up a wall between yourself and what you want just to please others.”

His hand was on her breast now, and despite her fear, his touch sparked a fire inside her. Zoa closed her eyes in shame. This man was a monster, how could he make her feel like this? She hated her body then, cursed it even as the pleasure curled in her stomach. She had to get away from his hands, had to get him to stop touching her. So, in a ploy to distract him, she forced her voice to work.

“Are you?” She panted.

Blessings on blessings, the hand stopped. “Say again?”

“What are you?” Zoa repeated, breathing deeply as she tried in vain to steady her racing mind.

Toric’s grip tightened on her wrists as he dragged her up, dangling her in front of him like a hooked fish. “I am the Moon’s Own,” he said, bringing his face so close to hers that his dark, cruel eyes were the only things she could see. “Dezira’s Chosen, an Avatar of Desire, and you, my little sparrow, will be just like me.”

“No,” Zoa whispered, trying in vain to look away only to find she couldn’t. His eyes held hers like a predator’s, and she could no more look away than she could tear her hands from his iron grip. Even so, one thing was still certain. “I will never be like you,” she hissed.

She expected anger, but Toric’s eyes lit up with something very close to pleasure. “You will,” he promised. “I have a theory, you see. What makes a dark moon instead of a white one? The records say it depends on the desire of the Chosen, but desire is a malleable thing. Changeable,
trainable
. Look at your sister. Not five minutes ago she would have died to get you both out, now she wants those men as much as they want her, and that was just a tiny blast of lust.”