The Dove & the Darkness (Ceasefire Series book 5) Page 10

  Faint whimpers tease my ears. Instinct drives me to hurry as I step over the threshold.

  Two bodies are on the floor. Paler limbs beneath the half-naked male are kicking out in panic. A female voice screams out in fear ending on a sob. Small hands, smacking the solid shoulders that keep her pinned. Cassandra’s skull thuds against the floor as stubby fingers curl in her hair bashing her head backward.

  “Stop fighting, bitch.” The angry hiss registers before my rage roars up blinding and deadly.

  This guard dares to defile my little Dove. Filthy her with his lust and greed.

  With a bellow, I lunge across the room. Insanity claws at the corners of my mind.

  My hands find his neck, lifting him bodily off his victim to slam his face into the wall. The noise resounds around the room. Smashing him into the hard rock surface, I don’t stop until there’s blood all over my hands. His moans and gurgles join the sound of my brutality.

  It’s not enough. My wrath borders on derangement. He needs to die. Doesn’t deserve to keep on breathing after the violation he’s committed.

  Nostrils flaring, I feel the darkness build. Power throbbing through my being as it had long ago when I wielded a different name. It dominates my thoughts out of control. Impulse take over.

  Throwing the vampire across the room, I’m on him before he has a chance to regain his feet. Throttling the life from his neck with one hand, the other punches through his chest to find his heart. I do it with ease. With a strength born to me that I’ve kept reined in for longer than I care to count.

  The madness that’s hounded me slips away and sanity returns.

  Breathing heavily, I stare down at the crimson of the blood, sticky and wet over my arms. It clings to the muscled contours of my bare chest. Silent and still, the heart of the vampire sits in my palm already crumpling to dust. The corpse before me disintegrates along with the organ.

  Cassandra has taken refuge huddling in the corner crying, eyes wide and shivering.

  “Did you tempt him with your nubile body?” I snarl, rage still soaring out of orbit. “Was your plan to let him fuck you in exchange for escape?”

  “No, Master.” The words whisper from her lips. Tears glisten in the torch light as they flow rapidly down her trembling cheeks. “He was going to rape me.”

  Not her fault.

  Mine.

  I left her unprotected and vulnerable. Should never have trusted them not to touch her. How would anyone not want her? The beauty she wields is too much temptation. A virgin down here is rare. I should have known the guards would try to take her purity.

  Rising I tread slowly toward her before dropping to my haunches. Reaching out I gently pet her hair trying to ignore the pain in my heart when she flinches at my touch. “Hush, Cassandra. I didn’t mean to get angry with you.”

  She comes hesitantly, stiffly when I draw her carefully into my embrace. I’ve forgotten how to be gentle. Soft. All I know now is pain and emptiness.

  “Did he do this to you?” I ask when I see the red smears along her forearms. Fresh blood. Jagged wounds score along her flesh in matching lines. Had he fed from her?

  “No.”

  Meeting my stare, I see the truth behind her eyes. Self-inflicted. She has taken something sharp to her own skin and cut it until it bled. Why? Because of her captivity? My training? Me? Or was she trying to escape this life she’s found herself in. The thought of her dead is like a knife to the gut.

  “You hurt yourself deliberately? We’re you trying to kill yourself? Because of me?”

  Silence.

  “Answer me.”

  Swallowing hard, she tilts her sweet face away from mine. “Pain keeps the visions away. Stops them from taking me over when they become too much…sometimes it’s like drowning but without water, and no one around me realizes. It’s the only way I can be me.”

  She’s had no escape from her gift, which is more like a curse to her untrained mind. My fault. If I had known it was this bad, I would never have left her alone for such long stretches. The isolation can’t have helped. Cassandra needs stimulation and distraction to stop her falling into the pitfalls of her mind.

  “Does my appearance frighten you?” I can’t help asking abruptly. “Is this because I showed you my face?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “The outside doesn’t always reflect what’s on the inside. I learned that when I went to live in Hell at the age of six. Your scars aren’t something that I fear or feel disgust toward. What we see isn’t always a true reflection of the heart. My visions are quiet when I’m around you. Somehow you still the storm.”

  She doesn’t think I’m hideous? Does my face truly not repulse her as it has so many others?

  Scooping her up gently, I hold her closely. This cell is somewhere she can no longer remain. Under my keeping, I will not let anything happen to her again.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  The soft silkiness of her hair rubs against my bare chest in an arousing distraction. “Somewhere you won’t be able to hurt yourself.”

  Blood paints her skin as well as my own. It makes me aware of the violence she’s just witnessed at my hands. Another life she watched me end.

  “Please don’t lock me up.” Her sobs twist my heart. “I can’t…. I can’t survive in a cage.”

  Carefully I rise and carry the weeping female from the room with only one destination in mind. My sanctuary. Somewhere we won’t be disturbed, and I’ll know she’ll be safe.

  “No, I won’t, but I can’t leave you here where you can destroy your beautiful skin with cuts when everything becomes too much.”

  A waterlogged gaze collides with mine. “But you’ve been hurting me, what does it matter if I hurt myself?”

  “That’s not up to you. Your body, your mind. All of you now belongs to me. Your punishment, pain, and pleasure are mine to give or withhold.” I can’t stop myself from placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

  “I don’t understand you,” she tells me forlornly.

  Holding her tightly, the tension ebbs from my shoulders as I see my rooms in sight. “I know, but you will in time. Once you submit fully, you will be happier, I promise.”

  20

  Cassandra

  My body unwinds in my Master's strong arms. I feel safe even though I know I shouldn’t. I’m still terrified after the Warden’s punishment. The guard who thought he could take me after what happened in the hall. From Mistress’s Kalia words, I don’t think Soren knows what she’s done, and if I tell him, I’m in for a worse fate. After what happened, the visions have only grown worse in their intensity. They’ve merged with the whispers in the darkness. I’m afraid eventually I’ll be permanently lost in lives that aren’t my own.

  The wounds on my forearms sting. Clumsy, rushed cuts with a sharp stone had been my only relief from the storm unleashed in my head and the shame from my humiliation at the hands of the Warden. Liberation from my mental prison.

  “We both need a shower.”

  The quiet murmur penetrates my exhaustion. Sleep deprived from the images I can’t control, I’ve had no time to rest. My anguish at almost being raped has fresh tears spilling from the corners of my eyes. If Master hadn’t found us, that vampire would have fucked me on the floor.

  Shuddering, I bury my face deep into the crook of Master’s neck. The imprint of the vampire’s creeping hands and his coarse tongue over my skin can’t be expunged. His crude, explicit words ring through my head.

  “You’re safe now, Little Dove.” A hand pets my hair. “No one will hurt you like that again.”

  Gently, I’m lowered to my feet. Disorientated I grab his arm not yet ready to let the only feeling of security I have in this place go.

  “You don’t have permission to touch me. Do you understand?” Master scolds, untangling my hold.

  Obeying the command, I nod tiredly. Awareness of my new environment settles in. A modern white bathroom. It’s huge and decadent. T
iled marble adorns the floors and walls. A sunken bath, big enough for six, is to my left. On my right is a glass walk in shower. Other amenities are at the other end.

  Hard fingers grip my jaw, almost bruisingly lifting my face. It’s only then I become aware he’s removed his mask.

  Master’s brown eyes impale me with his displeasure, and it takes me a second to realize my mistake.

  “Yes, Master Soren.”

  He positions himself so his disfigured side is hidden from my view. It makes me wonder if he did it because he’s self-conscious of his scars or if it was an unconscious action to make me more comfortable. I’d meant what I’d told him before. His face doesn’t bother me. Creatures who others would find ugly I have sometimes found to be the kindest and most accepting.

  “You’re tired and in shock,” he mutters gruffly, the touch on my jaw becoming a caress down my neck. “Once you're cleaned up, I’ll let you sleep.”

  The gold of the ring he wears around his neck on a leather cord gleams in the overhead lighting. Red decorates his inked chest and coats his arms giving his death flower tattoos color. Blood.

  I’m wearing it too. Smeared over my bare breasts, Master’s handprints are bright and crimson on my flesh.

  Turning on the shower, he checks the temperature before ushering me in. I’m forced to the front. Pebbles of water hit the top of my head plastering my hair to my shoulders.

  “Stay facing the wall and don’t turn around.”

  Fixing my gaze on the tiles, I hear clothes being shed. The click of a belt and rustle of his jeans.

  The warm steam rises to my face, reviving my senses. Though the heat of the cascading water brings pleasure, I can’t enjoy it the way I wish I could.

  I’m painfully aware of Master’s presence when he steps in behind me. It’s crazy to feel this safe with someone so intent on breaking me. He’s my enemy. My jailor and oppressor. Yet when he’s not with me, all I feel is misery.

  “No fighting me tonight, Cassandra. I have no wish to punish you after what’s happened.”

  “I’ll be good,” I promise, knowing it’s one I’ll keep. I’m far too fatigued to fight.

  Master reaches past me to a small shelf to my right with a sturdy tattooed muscled arm. Taking a bottle of shampoo, it disappears behind me. I hear the lid click open.

  Capable fingers work the shampoo into a lather through my hair. My scalp tingles as he massages. Awareness ebbs away. Moaning as he continues, I feel myself relax under his care. He’s being so gentle. How can this huge man have so many sides? I never expected this.

  “Close your eyes.”

  Complying to his command, I tip my head up to the spray of the water. Master toils with his task of washing the suds from my locks. Quiet and obedient, I remain where I am enjoying his attention more than I should. When he finally finishes, I barely hold back a plea for him to carry on.

  Lips brush the curve of my neck, sending goose bumps in their wake. “Put your arms straight, palms against the tiles.”

  With the possibility of more pampering, I eagerly lean forward taking up the position requested. Eyelashes still firmly closed, the tiles are chilled against my palms.

  I sense movement behind me. I’ve been aware of his larger body so close to mine the whole time. The heat and energy that comes off his hulking form.

  Feminine curiosity stirs. What would he do if I turned and looked at him nude? I’ve seen his cock and his bare chest. What does the rest of him look like? The fear of his anger keeps me in place. I’ve never seen rage like he exhibited tonight. It was primeval. Savage. The way his eyes had glowed with a fierce golden light.

  Something wet and smooth plays across my shoulder blades. Inhaling I recognize the smell of almonds while he bathes my skin in scented soap.

  Everything fades further until my world becomes a bewitching place of touch, sound, and scent.

  His hand draws the lather along to fondle each of my breasts, before descending slowly down my stomach to my abdomen.

  Trembling, all I can do is feel. Without my sight, everything is heightened. Every sense is more aware.

  Circling each of my hips, his cleaning travels down between my legs. “You’ve been such a good girl you should have a reward.”

  Breath quickening, I brace my hands more firmly on the wall for support as my weak legs threaten to buckle. His ministrations eradicate the lingering feelings from the vampire’s touch. Instead of shying away, I push myself boldly into his stroking.

  At last, the caressing centers on my shaven nether lips, a large blunt finger pushing unhurriedly inside my pussy.

  “Do you like that, Little Dove? Do you want me to ease the ache I know you have here and fill you with my fat cock?”

  I whimper in response. His voice. His touch. It’s like blissful venom in my blood. Subduing me. Dragging me under his allure. There’s no escaping it. The more time I spend in his presence, the quicker I succumb.

  “You enjoy my attention, don’t you? You can’t hide your body’s responses.”

  “Please,” is all I can manage. I tremble harder, all the emotions I’ve been faced to endure since I arrived avalanching on top of me until I feel as if I can’t breathe.

  “Shh, Cassandra,” Master soothes, his free hand skimming up my slick back. “It’s all right. Let’s get you dry.”

  I feel the loss when his hand slips from between my legs. He’s mistaken my reaction for fear. Reaching for the tap, he turns off the flow of water from above.

  “Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

  Remaining immobile, I let my arms lower to my sides. Behind me to my left, I hear Master moving around. I’m still confused at this show of gentleness. A firm grip on my shoulder guides me from the shower. Gently I’m helped into a thick, luxurious robe, matching the one he’s wearing. It swallows my slender frame.

  Frowning down at the plush material, I rub it between my fingers. Not being permitted to wear clothes for so long, it feels strange to have something covering me.

  Steering me from the bathroom, Master urges me toward the bed. Instead of taking me right to it, he moves in front of me to take a seat on the mattress’ edge.

  “Sit at my feet and I’ll brush your hair.”

  Confused I stare at the silver, ornate brush he lifts from the covers. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to take care of you.”

  My attention skips to the disfiguring scars on the marred side of his face. “Why?”

  “Because you’re my pretty Dove, and I don’t want your lovely hair to become all knotty. Now sit or do I need to give you a spanking for disobedience?”

  Not wanting to anger him and lose this new side he’s showing, I shuffle between his open thighs before folding down onto my knees on the carpet.

  Shoulders stiff, I kneel with my back to him. It gives me the opportunity to take in my new surroundings. The room is immense and furnished in tasteful modern décor. A large oak desk with a chair is by a long curtain-less window. Four bookshelves take up half of another wall. Below an empty fireplace, a fur rug decorates the floor. To my right is a sturdy wardrobe so immense I’d probably get lost in it.

  With sure practiced strokes, the bristles of the brush caress down through the dampness of my hair. I close my eyes to the stimulation, my scalp tingling the same way from the head massage in the shower. It’s seducing, beguiling, weaving me into a zen-like trance.

  “Do you know how to sing?”

  Master’s abrupt question has me blinking open my heavy eyes. When I try to glance at him over my shoulder, he stops me with a hand gripping the back of my neck. Understanding the silent command, I continue facing away from him.

  “Yes...I guess…a few songs.”

  “Let me hear your voice,” he tells me brusquely. “Sing for me.”

  For a second, my mind goes blank. Songs elusive before a recent pop song from an up and coming band pops into my thoughts. The words are silly and repetitive, yet it’s the only one
that comes to mind. Quietly I hum the tune. It becomes easy to recall the longer the tune vibrates from my throat. Opening my mouth, I warble to the chorus.

  It feels like hours trickle past. Head bowed, I sit at his feet until my voice is hoarse and raw. Master never once bids me to stop. Silent, I sense him towering over me, the heat of his intense stare burning a hole through the back of my skull. The repetitive motion of the brush through my hair holds me relaxed and enslaved.

  “Enough. Come rest your head on my knee for a while.”

  My mind quiets as I fall silent, reclining to find a pillow on the muscled thigh. Beneath the softness of his robe, I feel the strength and power of his limbs. The sheer size of the behemoth like man.

  Still brushing the length of my locks from top to bottom, he begins to hum quietly mimicking my tune. It’s the last thing I hear as exhaustion sweeps up and carries me away on a cloud of fatigue.

  21

  Cassandra

  Reflections rippling over a pond, the images meld together within my dreams. With tattered black wings, a male form dives from a cliff. His desperation sends my heart hammering with its urgency. He’s terrified to fail.

  Weeping.

  The sound is heart-breaking in its torment. A woman on her knees, face buried in her hands, mourns the loss of loved ones.

  Unicorns.

  They stampede across a pink, sandy beach. A shattered soul alone and bitter.

  I catch snatches of conversations.

  “I don’t play well with others,” A yellow-eyed woman warns.

  A naked male kneels on the bed before a different blonde female. “There’s nothing like sleeping under the moon and staring up at the stars. You can find that very little is needed to live a happy life. I’d like to see you barefoot, hair messy, and a sparkle in your eyes while running wild with us. I think you’d be surprised how free it would make you feel.”

  “Where is my daughter?” my father, Lucifer, demands, eyes blazing blood red.