Wicked Empress: The Onic Empire, Book 4 (26 page)

Uncomfortable, he hastily adjusted himself, causing an almost imperceptible sigh of pleasure to escape from Rown’s slightly parted lips. Into his mind came the image of the young man on his knees, head tilted back, and lips just as they were right now—barely parted, moist, willing. Rown wouldn’t just suck his cock. No, Rown would worship every bit of his wicked length. Something in his stance told Drahka that Rown knew more about pleasure than the rest of them combined.

Crushing guilt caused Drahka to sway on his feet when he remembered where he was and why. How could he be thinking such a thing when he stood right next to Viltori? In that instant, Drahka realized the images had come from Viltori, almost as if he were giving Drahka permission to find his replacement. Another wave of guilt gripped him when he thought he was blaming Viltori for his own twisted mind.

Silence stretched around the group of him, Bithia, Rown and Sterlave. Everyone just stood looking at the tiled floor, the art-covered walls, really anywhere other than at Viltori or each other. Except for Rown and Drahka. Neither one of them could stop looking speculatively at the other. Regardless if Viltori were feeding him the sensations or not, Drahka was uncomfortable feeling them in this place at this time. With a sigh, Drahka turned, but now Rown kept his gaze on Drahka’s behind, causing an entirely new set of thoughts to swirl in his mind.

After a while, Sterlave became aware of Rown’s concentration. Frowning, he darted his golden brown eyes between them. Drahka pretended not to notice, but when Rown caught Sterlave’s attention, his eyes widened and his face turned red. A quick lift of Sterlave’s brows chastised Rown into keeping his eyes turned to the gray floor.

Now Drahka’s attention fell on Sterlave. He was muscular and dressed entirely in black, which indicated his status as a Harvester. Not the current Harvester, or he would have crimson along his outfit to show his allegiance to Bithia, but a past Harvester. Then Drahka noticed that Rown cinched his brown robe with a black sash, indicating he was a servant to Sterlave, but the sash was trimmed in crimson, which was Bithia’s color. Was Kasmiri allowed to use the color to indicate she owned him too? Now Drahka was doubly confused. Was Kasmiri still considered a part of Crimson House despite her illegitimacy? Sterlave did not like Rown’s attention on another man, but Sterlave was bonded to Bithia’s sister. Did he keep a male slave to play with? Clearly, Sterlave did not like the idea of sharing Rown, not that Drahka would ever ask.

With a sharp pang, he missed Viltori. He could have explained this new and confusing aspect of Diolan culture. Unwilling to ask anyone else for details, Drahka was relieved when Kasmiri entered. He knew she was Bithia’s sister because they looked so much alike except for their height and eyes. Also, Kasmiri dressed entirely in black, while Bithia was clad in crimson. And then his gaze fell on her distended belly. Something about that gentle curve pushed all his instincts into overload. He wanted Bithia to look like that. Big and round and slightly unsteady with that glorious glow all pregnant women seemed to have. Kasmiri radiated contentment and joy. Drahka would do anything to have Bithia looking the same way.

“Thank you for waiting.” Kasmiri stepped into the room and right to Sterlave’s side. Behind her came the most strangely put-together man Drahka had ever seen. Squat and wide, his body was so bulky he could not cross his arms, which seemed too long and his legs too short. His shoulders were so thick with muscles he could not turn his head. A shock of white hair covered his skull. He was dressed in black, indicating a prior status as a Harvester.

While Kasmiri introduced Helton Ook to Bithia, Sterlave curled his upper lip behind Helton’s back. Drahka sensed a long history between the two men, but again, he wouldn’t ask for details. All he needed to know was what was obvious: Sterlave utterly detested his bondmate’s father.

After pleasantries had been conducted, Kasmiri finally explained what her grand idea was. “Remember when I told you how the creature injured us?”

Bithia nodded while Drahka stood still, trying to glean information. He felt as if he’d come into the middle of a conversation.

“Well, one of the people on that planet healed us with a bare touch.” Kasmiri flashed her sparkling gaze on Viltori. “I’m sure she could help him.”

Before Helton could even speak, Sterlave interjected, “He’ll never survive the trip.”

“I didn’t mean take him.” Exhaling an annoyed sigh, Kasmiri glared at her bondmate. “The portal works both ways. We could bring one of them here.”

“You are not making that trip, not in your condition.” Sterlave wrapped his arm around her shoulder, as if already holding her back.

With a roll of her eyes, Kasmiri patted Sterlave’s hand. “I didn’t mean me, exactly, but someone could—”

“They won’t come.” Helton’s voice was harsh, like two enormous boulders rubbing together. “The Treagen people have never left their world.” Helton softened his tone at Kasmiri’s hurt expression. “I would have told you this privately if you’d explained why you were dragging me up here.” Bowing to Bithia, he added, “I am truly sorry, my lady, for getting your hopes up when I cannot help you.”

“Do you rule these people?” A sharp, commanding tone filled Bithia’s voice.

“No, my lady, I own the planet on which they live, but I do not rule them. The planet was given to me as a gift.”

An entire world as a gift?
Suddenly, Drahka felt very small and terribly concerned about the tribe he left behind.

“There is no harm in asking them, is there?” Bithia nodded to her sister, who in turn nodded imploringly to Helton. Sterlave glowered behind Helton’s back while Rown continued to sneak peeks as his crotch. The only one who had no say at all in the matter was the one man the outcome would affect. Viltori lay still and silent in his glass cage. Drahka placed his hand above his friend, trying to feel what he would want them to do. And then he remembered a story his teacher had told him.

“I think we should try.” Every gaze swung his way. Clearing his throat, Drahka added, “The worst they can say is no. However, they might say yes.”

“They have never left their planet,” Helton reminded him.

“Then we will give them a good reason to do so.” Now that he’d made up his mind to seek the help of the Treagen people, he wouldn’t let anything hold him back. “Who will go with me?”

“I will go.” Bithia lifted her chin, her eyes shining with pride that he’d stepped forward, forcing the decision to be made.

“No, my chosen, you are ruler of this world. It is far too dangerous for you to go.” Drahka cast his gaze to Sterlave. “You have been there. You know their ways.”

Shrugging helplessly, Sterlave looked to his bondmate, but Kasmiri practically pushed him toward Drahka. “Of course he will go.” At Sterlave’s annoyed frown, she added, “He would be happy to help my sister, the empress, she from which all good things flow.” Her words were a not-too-subtle reminder that being in Bithia’s favor was important. Helping her now could endear them to her for a lifetime.

“As much as I appreciate your…willingness, Sterlave, I cannot ask you to go if you fear any danger.” Bithia tried to keep her words politic, but there was a tone of gentle chiding since she herself had offered to go.

Helton scoffed, causing Sterlave to roll his eyes very much like Kasmiri had, then out the side of his mouth snarled, “I’m not a coward, old man.”

“I said nothing.” Helton lifted his bulky arms and flattened his hands, holding his palms out. “But they are the tiniest of people who would not harm a child.”

“Then we are agreed.” Drahka turned and kissed Bithia soundly on the lips. She embraced him, and he took the opportunity to lower his lips to her ear. Quietly, so the others could not hear, he whispered, “You must swear to me that if this fails, we will let him go. Swear it.” He pulled back and Bithia gave a short, curt nod, but he could see the hope shining through. He feared again what would happen if they failed.

“You will need a servant as they will need one to talk through.” Helton considered Rown. “He will do nicely.”

Rown’s entire body lifted with excitement and his lips parted to accept.

“No,” Sterlave said before Rown could say anything. “They can talk through me.”

Crumpling back against the wall, Rown hung his head and pouted.

“Don’t do that. I hate when you do that.” Closing the distance between them, Sterlave took Rown’s shoulders into his hands. “I want you here to watch over Kasmiri.”

“I can watch over myself.” Kasmiri stood tall, but that only made her vulnerable belly seem larger.

“I will stay here with her,” Bithia offered. Smoothly moving to Kasmiri’s side, she looped her arm through hers. The resemblance between them was even more pronounced.

“They will not talk through you, you are too high in rank.” Helton clearly didn’t agree with the assessment he’d just rendered.

Glaring, Sterlave asked, “How would they know the difference?”

“They do.” Helton looked again to Rown. “It’s either him or another servant.”

Expression hopeful, Rown looked up at Sterlave with eyes so wide they were like twin pools of pleading. Realizing he now had no good reason to say no, he reluctantly gave in. “But I want you two,” he pointed to Kasmiri and Bithia, “at the portal. I don’t trust some people not to close the way behind me.”

Helton startled back as if struck. “Ambo closed the gate on you, not I.”

“Still.” Sterlave considered Drahka for a moment, but Drahka did not know what the man weighed or measured in him. “You cannot take that.” Lifting his hand, he pointed to Drahka’s hips.

Confused, Drahka palmed his cock.

“Your sword.” High spots of red appeared on Sterlave’s cheeks. “We cannot ask for help if we are armed.”

Removing his gleaming Sword of the Empress, Drahka handed it to Bithia for safekeeping. “Should we not take a gift or an offering of some kind?”

Helton shook his head. “You will not need one.” There was something in his eyes, something not malevolent, not malicious, but perhaps mischievous? “They will ask you to stay for a while and that will be your gift to them. If they offer food and drink, be sure to consume the items or they will be gravely insulted.”

Sterlave didn’t seem to notice the odd gleam in Helton’s eyes, so Drahka let his gut instinct pass. Perhaps his senses were only heightened due to his grieving being put on hold. With a last look to Viltori, they left the infirmary.

Twisting around the seemingly endless palace hallways, they finally made their way to a simple room. Had Drahka not known better, he would think a servant lived here. Clean and orderly, the cramped room held a bed, a washbasin and a cloth folded over a rope that hung high between two walls. Behind the drape lay their destiny. Here, a large flat oval hovered above the floor. Silent but sparkling, the gateway loomed, calling to Drahka. His heart lurched.

“Are you afraid?” Sterlave’s face expressed concern, not condescension.

“No.” Fear was not what gave him a feeling of lightheaded anticipation.

Without asking, Sterlave tucked Drahka’s long hair down the back of his shirt.

“I am in awe.” What magic they took for granted! Traveling between worlds with only one stride. Drahka had always felt large, but this made him feel a giant. Holding his breath, he did as Sterlave said and simply stepped within the gate.

Rushing winds ripped along his body as lights glittered beyond his tightly closed eyes. If Sterlave had not hidden his hair away, the wind would have whipped the strands into his face and around his neck. Per Sterlave’s instructions Drahka pressed his legs tightly together but kept his knees unlocked. When he was suddenly spit out the other side, he discovered why. Landing awkwardly on one foot, he caught his balance by flinging out his arms and flexing his knees. Before he could look around, Rown almost crashed into him. Drahka caught him before he fell, but not before Rown clutched madly at him, getting a handful of his cock and butt in the process. Drahka wasn’t sure, but he didn’t think Rown was quite that unsteady on his feet. Still, accusing him of indiscriminately groping him seemed inappropriate, so Drahka let it go. After a moment, Sterlave joined them. He landed perfectly on both feet. Drahka let a small trickle of annoyance pass as Sterlave had been this way before.

When Drahka turned, his mouth fell open.

They stood at the end of an enormous room seemingly carved out of one solid piece of rock. The color was unlike anything Drahka had ever seen. It was as if all the colors known to him danced before his eyes. Blinking fiercely, as if to correct his vision, Drahka then noticed the heat. Sweat gathered under his arms and between his legs. He pulled his hair out of his shirt, grateful he’d bound the heavy weight of it. At the far end of the room, he saw a throne, also carved right out of the rock. Everything had a pall of quiet, as if this place had been vacant for time beyond measuring.

“Where are the people?” Rown flinched when his voice echoed off the far wall, repeating softly until it finally died away.

“There wasn’t anyone last time,” Sterlave whispered in the vast space. He stood over a spot on the floor for a moment, as if recalling what had happened here. “They must have cleaned up the stain.” With a deep breath, he lifted his head. “Let’s move.” Sterlave strode toward the side wall. Confused, Drahka followed behind. His panic rose as Sterlave walked right into the wall…which disappeared, letting him pass. Rown went next and Drahka brought up the rear.

Unlike the hallways at the palace, this one was so small Drahka had to hunch over. Sweat gathered at his neck, then ran down his chest.

Before they got far, Sterlave stopped. Peering over Sterlave’s shoulder, Drahka saw a curious group of people. Tiny, thin, extremely pale with silver hair, and all dressed in the same loose, shimmering fabric, Drahka could not tell male from female. Enormous silver eyes with side-slitted pupils considered them without emotion. Narrow lips below almost-absent noses did not move, but Drahka felt as if they’d spoken.

“They remember you,” Rown said to Sterlave. “They wish for you to follow.”