Lover, Destroyer Read online

  He had ignored Vulture almost entirely. Although he had seen Kite handle the beast expertly, the black stallion had a nasty habit of biting anyone who came within the range for it. He reared and fought against the bit even when Kite rode him. Elarhe did enjoy watching Kite ride Vulture, however. Kite’s leg muscles bulged in his riding breeches, and even in his shirts sometimes revealed his arms. And Elarhe found his intense expression amusing. The horse didn’t recognize Kite’s lordship.

  Elarhe, riding bareback this day, felt Rose’s skin quiver over her body before he saw Kite galloping up to them on Vulture. Although Rose wasn’t in her menses, his chest tightened at the sight of the black stallion. Stallions, particularly ill-tempered ones, often didn’t ride well with mares. Sometimes, they would attack a mare even if she weren’t in her fertile time, biting the crest of her neck and hammering her with his hooves.

  Kite pulled the horse up and brought him to heel with a relative ease. Elarhe noticed the animal was heavily lathered. Kite had put him through his paces before finding Elarhe. Vulture was too tired to put up much of a fight.

  Kite drew close enough that they could talk. His face glowed with sweat from fighting the stallion, but there was an excitement about him that Elarhe could almost feel. Elarhe expected Kite to announce that he had solved his problem, whatever that was. Kite’s continued secrecy about it still chafed Elarhe.

  “I saw Rabbit today and asked her to heal my head. We can play with the cocoon whenever you feel like it!”

  His enthusiasm made Elarhe laugh. “You’re too excited about this cocoon business.”

  “I think it will be fun.” He brooded for a moment, and Elarhe felt bad for saying anything. Kite didn’t take teasing well. “I have an actual punching bag in the hay barn,” said Kite. “You should use it sometime. I can help you work on your form.”

  “I don’t want to spar with you.”

  “No, I wouldn’t want to do that. Our sizes are incompatible. You’re so slight.”

  Elarhe didn’t like when Kite pointed out how much taller and muscular he was. Elarhe was tall enough, normal sized, with a strong, albeit light, physique. He just wasn’t a hulking ox like Kite.

  “You’re like the sculptures of young, pretty heroes—so beautifully proportioned—so perfect.”

  Elarhe shifted shyly on his horse. Whether he took them well or not, he did enjoy compliments.

  “And your cock is larger than any of them.”

  Elarhe snickered. He circled Rose around. “Whatever we do, I know I want to fuck you with my big cock.”

  “I’ll fuck you back.”

  Elarhe grinned and gave a hard squeeze of his legs and heels to send Rose into a gallop. “Race you to the stable!” They were already away. He laughed to himself, the wind ripping it from his mouth. He knew Vulture was tired, he knew Rose ran like a deer, and he knew Kite was competitive enough to feel just a bit burned by losing to him.

  Tired or not, Vulture drew alongside him, his neck stretched out with Kite high in his saddle. Elarhe flicked his reins against Rose’s neck, urging a bit more speed out of her. She pulled ahead just in time to beat Vulture to the stable. Elarhe could barely climb down off his horse for gasping and laughing.

  Kite dismounted and began walking Vulture around to cool him off. “I let you win,” he shrugged. “Thought it would be good for your self-esteem.”

  Elarhe jumped down and led Rose beside him. Poor Vulture didn’t even look at her. “You just can’t admit that my Rose beat your flouncy stallion.”

  “Your Rose?”

  “She’s my favorite. That’s all I meant.”

  Kite smiled at him. “Would you like her to be yours?”

  “Yes,” said Elarhe in a small voice, flustered by not knowing what else to say but the truth.

  “Then yours she is.”

  “Thank you!” Elarhe’s heart sang. Owning a horse put him one step closer to the mage’s academy. If he were able to gain admission, perhaps through Kite’s influence, he could ride home to Kite every day. Having a horse even meant that he could travel to one of the other academies in the Grandimanderian Empire. It meant so many new possibilities were open to him. It meant freedom.

  He threw his arms around Kite and gave him a fierce hug. Kite heaved a great sigh of satisfaction and kissed Elarhe’s forehead. “Now let’s go inside so you can beat me until I beg for mercy.”

  “I won’t give you any mercy.”

  Kite pressed his hardness against Elarhe. “That’s my wicked Squirrel.”

  “And that just earned you a few extra punches.”

  Kite groaned happily. “Let’s get these horses rubbed down.”

  ***

  “You want to stay in the midsection. If you hit bone, it can hurt. Rabbit has had to mend my hand more than once.”

  If Kite wanted to raise Elarhe’s ire and ruin a beautiful afternoon, he had succeeded. Elarhe tried not to sulk as he buckled Kite into the velvet jacket he called the cocoon. Manacles and the meat hook assured Kite’s feet couldn’t move. The way the cocoon buckled around kept Kite’s hands behind his back. At Elarhe’s insistence, they had left Kite’s head exposed. At first, he had said that because he wanted to make sure Kite was all right. After that remark about seeing Rabbit for hand fractures, he wanted to see the pained expression on Kite’s stupid face.

  He didn’t like being reminded that Kite had used all of this equipment, that while everything was new to Elarhe, Kite and his whores had played with these tools many times. It didn’t matter that Kite insisted he had never had the courage to be the submissive one before, Kite was no stranger to this world. And no stranger to anyone willing to get in his carriage and except his money.

  Elarhe used the wheel to hoist Kite up in the air. For a moment, he felt like dropping him. He didn’t, of course. He found an appropriate height for him to punch Kite, and secured the chains.

  He decided to blindfold him with one of the leather blindfolds hanging on the wall. Then he stood before Kite and sighed.

  From somewhere around his knees, Kite said, “I’m ready when you are.”

  Elarhe gave Kite’s midsection a hard punch. He hit a wall of muscle. In spite of himself, he laughed. “Are you even going to feel this?”

  “I felt it. If you want me to feel it more, you have to keep hitting me.”

  Elarhe sighed again. Kite’s abdomen was nothing but muscle. This was going to get boring. He called upon the basic defensive training he had studied as a prince and delivered a series of blows. Each met with Kite’s inner armor of muscles. Feeling frustrated, Elarhe threw a knee into Kite’s stomach.

  That, at least, had the effect of winding him a little. Elarhe followed up with more punches. He worked out a pattern, middle, solar plexus, below the navel, and stuck to that for a while. He added another kneeing. This time, Kite grunted.

  Elarhe hammered his navel alone for a while and followed it with a knee to the same spot. He could feel Kite’s muscles starting to give. Kite grunted at almost every punch. The blows seemed to hurt him more.

  Finally, Kite’s stomach softened, the bruised muscles unable to withstand Elarhe’s fists. Elarhe threw a hard punch just beneath Kite’s navel. His fist sank deep. Kite puffed air. His arms moved to hold his stomach, but they were bound tight.

  Elarhe hit him again, this time beneath the ribcage. Kite groaned and tried to curl up. The chains above his feet jangled. The cocoon held him fast. Kite couldn’t move.

  Elarhe threw a quick series of jabs to Kite’s weakened abdomen. He reintroduced Kite to his knee. Kite didn’t fight it anymore, he only hung there, taking it. Still, he didn’t say the safe word, so Elarhe continued to pound his stomach, punching it all over.

  Kite had stopped even making noises. Elarhe stopped to check on him. He bent down to Kite’s head. “How are you feeling?”

  There was no answer. His mouth hung slack. Elarhe tore off the blindfold. Kite’s eyes were shut. Elarhe realized suddenly that Kite might have been too far
gone to use their safe word. He lowered Kite to the floor and cradled his head. Kite moaned weakly. Elarhe undid the cocoons buckles and freed him. Bright red splotches covered Kite’s abdomen. Some around his navel were already starting to darken.

  Kite cradled his stomach and folded into a ball. His eyes remained closed and he continued to groan incoherently. Elarhe trembled with fear. “Are you badly hurt?”

  No answer.

  “Kite?”

  No answer.

  “I’m taking you to Rabbit.”

  Nothing.

  He screamed for help and sent Goose to get Wren.

  Chapter 18

  Wren and Ferret arrived quickly. They moved Kite, with Elarhe scurrying alongside, to the carriage. Elarhe held Kite as they galloped away.

  On the way there, Kite revived. “My stomach hurts,” he whispered, sounding surprised.

  “I’m sure it does. I just beat you black and blue all afternoon.”

  “What are we doing in the carriage?”

  “We’re going to see Rabbit.”

  Kite laughed, then groaned at the movement.

  “This amuses you?”

  “It does.”

  When they arrived at Rabbit’s, Elarhe understood. Rabbit looked completely dismayed. “You did this to him?”

  “Yes. We were—it was a game, really. I never meant to hurt him.”

  “You. Did this. To him.”

  “Yes.” Elarhe felt like crying. “Please help him. I’m worried he’s very hurt.”

  “I’m rather hurt,” Kite put in. “Don’t blame Squirrel. I tripped and fell.”

  Rabbit felt over Kite’s torso. “Finally on the other end of the rope, are we?” she asked Kite.

  “Finally,” Kite rasped, giving Elarhe a wink.

  Rabbit didn’t seem amused. “You have a rupture. Once I heal you, I strongly suggest you play a new game. Or trip over something softer.” She laid a hand on Elarhe’s shoulder. “Would you get me some clean towels from the laundry back there? I think he might have bitten his tongue. He’s bleeding all over my couch.”

  Elarhe collected the towels, but paused outside the main room as he heard raised voices.

  “How dare you darken my doorstep twice in one day! I never minded healing your poor victims, but I have no reason to heal you, you wretched creature! I should let your spleen take care of you.”

  “How very brave you are to torment me when I’m weak. It’s as if I couldn’t end you where you stand. Or could I?”

  Elarhe gulped and hurried in with the towels. Rabbit, her back stiff with animosity, smiled at him, then returned her attention to Kite. She closed her eyes. The green light he remembered rose around her body and over her shoulders. It glowed around her hands as she moved them over Kite’s torso. She sighed and stopped. To Elarhe’s dismay, most of the bruises remained, stark against Kite’s fair skin.

  “I’m afraid I can’t heal you all the way. I’ve saved your life, but I’ve performed two healings recently, one for your infernal head.” She grabbed a potion from a nearby shelf. “Take this. It will ease your pain. Somewhat.” She glared for a moment at Kite with undisguised ire.

  “You would do well to remember who I am. What I am. You seem to have forgotten, woman.” Kite said it with such force that Rabbit backed into the shelf behind her, spilling potions on the floor. Elarhe watched the croton in Rabbit’s window blacken and turn to sludge.

  Kite rose with barely a flinch and left her standing among the shattered glass. Elarhe thanked her, then bolted after Kite. Once outside, Kite walked more slowly. He grimaced getting into the carriage and drank some of the potion as soon as he sat down.

  His obvious discomfort made Elarhe feel guilty. Kite, for his part, seemed pleased to have Elarhe beside him, taking his hand and kissing his red knuckles. He sighed drowsily and leaned against Elarhe.

  “What happened back there? With Rabbit?”

  Kite didn’t seem alarmed. “Did you think us friends? She despises me. Vole, all of them hate me. They tolerate my presence because they fear me. Everyone fears me.” He smiled blearily at Elarhe. “Except you. You’ll knock the whey out of me.”

  Elarhe shivered. “I could have killed you.”

  Kite laughed, then caught himself and winced, his eyes shut. “Truly, I’m not that easy to kill.”

  “I thought you hadn’t tried these things before.”

  “I haven’t.” He reached up to take Elarhe’s chin. “You’re special.”

  “So, who has tried to kill you?” A chill of unknown danger broke over Elarhe’s shoulders, raising gooseflesh on his arms.

  “Only me.”

  A new horror filled Elarhe. “You tried to take you own life?”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. I stopped trying some time before we first met. I gave up and turned my energies to other pursuits.”

  “The boys?”

  Kite sighed. “There have always been boys. No, I speak of my research.”

  “What are you researching, exactly?” Kite had always been cagey about it.

  “It’s a secret.”

  “You can tell me.”

  “I dare not breathe a word to anyone. It’s my research. It’s my secret.”

  Elarhe sat back with that. He tried to respect it. At a bump in the road, Kite slid down and dripped down him like the wax of a candle. Elarhe scooted over so that Kite’s head could rest in his lap. Kite looked into Elarhe’s eyes with a drugged grin and reached up to flick a lock of Elarhe’s hair.

  Elarhe smiled down at him, awestruck by how breathtaking the already handsome man was without his characteristic scowl. Kite, lethargic from the sleeping spell and drugged half out of his mind was a man of singular beauty. A thought struck Elarhe. “Quit trying…. There were multiple attempts.”

  Kite twisted a stand of Elarhe’s hair around his finger. “The first when I was thirteen, using my own power. I vomited black for a few days, but, obviously, it didn’t work. A few times after—poison, daggers, drowning. Someone saved me, or I did it wrong, or it simply didn’t work. The last was by encouraging a group of stout men to end me. Self-preservation, it turns out, is a truly powerful thing—even when someone is set on killing himself. I destroyed the pack of them with a few stray thoughts.”

  Elarhe traced Kite’s cheekbone and cared little that Kite had just admitted to leading a gang of men to their deaths. That thought couldn’t compete with the knowledge that the man he now held might not have existed long enough for Elarhe to fall in love with him. “I’m glad you failed. And you know they wouldn’t have buried you properly.” He had seen one day what happened to suicides in Grandimanderia. Their heads were severed from their necks and their bodies were dumped in the sewer.

  Kite laughed. “They’ll probably do that anyway. They think I’m a monster.” He sighed. “They’re not entirely wrong.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  Kite caressed Elarhe’s jaw. “Why do I love dragons?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “They are monsters. Beautiful monsters.”

  “I’ve heard they are intelligent creatures. Misunderstood.”

  “And hunted almost to extinction because of it. No one loves a monster.” He had turned morose and looked somewhere beyond Elarhe’s shoulder at something only he could see.

  Elarhe took his chin and turned his face to meet his own. “Then I know you’re not a monster.” Elarhe’s voice trembled with emotion. “For I love you with all of my heart.”

  ***

  Kite insisted on going to his torture chamber to sleep. Elarhe no longer tried to fight him. He wasn’t sure the precaution truly helped anyone’s safety, but it made Kite feel safe. He didn’t think Kite could sleep without his nails.

  He could not, however, be dissuaded from joining him for a while. Elarhe, lying inside the box, watched Kite put the evil-looking nail crown on his head. This time, he meant to lay supine, for only the back was bare of nails. He lay down beside Elarhe, who lay on his side. The
y hadn’t spoken much since Elarhe had confessed his love.

  Elarhe wanted to believe this was because Kite was drugged, but there was a tension in Kite’s face that told him otherwise. He tried to act like it didn’t hurt, like nothing had changed between them.

  Just when Elarhe thought Kite had fallen asleep, Kite said, “I don’t know that I’ve ever loved anyone. I barely knew my parents. There are a few people I care for a great deal…. I’m not sure I know precisely what it feels like.”

  Elarhe rubbed Kite’s chest. “It’s all right. You don’t have to feel what I feel.”

  “If this castle caught fire, I would see to your safety before anyone else’s—even my dogs’.”

  Elarhe giggled. “That’s—I guess, that’s love. Or something like it.”

  A plaintive note entered Kite’s voice. “That is love, isn’t it?”

  “It is if you can say it.”

  Kite squeezed one of Elarhe’s hands with one of his cuffed ones. “I love you,” he whispered, fear and awe in his voice.

  Elarhe snuggled even closer. “And I love you.”

  ***

  A few days later, Elarhe watched Kite lower himself to the spanking bench. Kite draped across it. His movements had been ginger as he made contact with the metal bench. “Are you certain you’re up to this? Do your bruises still hurt?”

  “I’m well enough.” He grinned. “This metal is cold. Very cold. I think my nipples are icing up.”

  “Oh. That’s good. That reminds me of something I forgot.”

  “Truly, Squirrel? Isn’t it enough—”

  But Elarhe already had the nipple clamps in hand. He beamed at Kite’s disgruntled face. With one hand he directed Kite up, so that he raised partially off the bench. With no fanfare, he snapped them to each chilled nipple.

  Kite shuddered. “Fuck! That hurts! Can’t you at least kiss them?”