The Pleasure Slave

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Imperia

Romulis paced the white sands of Druinn, the four suns heating his skin. Those warm rays in no way compared with his fury. "Bitch," he growled. "I do not need her."

"Need who?" one of the elders asked him. Several sorcerers stood along the sea's edge, some even hovered in the air, watching him with weary eyes. He refused to speak or acknowledge the question in any way. He continued to pace, the rage inside him growing, consuming him. He knew Zirra had been working on her own to regain her magic. She was so determined to have Tristan.

Zirra was destined to be his life-mate, and still she hungered for another. Always she hungered for Tristan. Mayhap she would for eternity. Yet he desired no other. Only her. Only Zirra. He wanted no other. Fury and pain and desperation vibrated together inside him, and he lashed out, growling again, "Bitch." The crystal sands scattered with the sharpness of his movements.

"I have never claimed differently."

The voice came from behind him. Romulis spun and found himself glaring into Zirra's unrepentant face. Those traitorous suns' rays paid her nothing but tribute, caressing her cheeks, making her cerulean eyes sparkle. Even now, he craved her hands on his flesh, her screams of pleasure in his ears.

"Leave us," he told the sorcerers still brave or foolish enough to linger. The rustle of their footsteps echoed in his ears.

"What do you here?" he demanded.

Her chin rose haughtily. "I've come to tell you that I am holding you to your vow. You vowed to help me acquire Tristan, and I expect you to do so—permanently. Some of my powers have already returned but I still need yours."

His stomach twisted, the pain so sharp he nearly cried out. Just then something broke inside him. Mayhap it was his patience, mayhap it was his goodwill. Whatever it was, Zirra was meant to be his, his life-mate, and he would no longer tolerate her defiance. He would no longer tolerate her obsession for another man.

"I have watched you pant for Tristan all these many cycles," Romulis growled, backing her into a cold, silver stone that circled the sands. "I am finished watching. I am finished waiting. You are mine."

Her eyes widened with fear, and mayhap a bit of arousal. He hardened his heart against her. She had pushed him past the point of his endurance, and now she must assuage him. He would not assuage her.

"We end your obsession now," he said. "Come with me."

Tristan sat at the kitchen table, silent and scowling, as he ate his breakfast. Julia had tried to make him leave her. She had tried to gain a confession of love.

Shock still coursed through him.

Had she tired of him?

He shook his head. Nay, she had not. She loved him. She had uttered the words so many times they were branded inside his mind. And she had meant them. The truth had been there in her eyes. His chest clenched as he remembered. She loved him, yet she was willing to sacrifice their lives together. For him.

He knew enough about his little dragon now to know she would not want to watch him live a life of bondage and do nothing. That was why he… liked her so well. Aye, he liked her. Nothing more.

How could he tell her that what he felt for her would destroy him inside? He would not risk it. After her death—his heart twisted at the thought—he could endure the transference of his box to a new guan ren, knowing that he had finally shared true friendship with a woman. The memories of his time with Julia would keep him happy for the rest of his life. For the rest of his servitude. "I want to close the shop today and just spend the day with you," Julia said.

She deserved children. The thought slithered into his mind and remained. She had saved two rooms for her babies, for she dreamed of being a mother. This woman who gave so freely of herself deserved to have her dreams come true. He almost gave her his declaration just then, but stopped himself in time.

He was finding that where Julia was concerned, he was a selfish man. He needed her and would pamper her until he became her dream. Mayhap they could even provide a home for orphaned children. He said none of this to her, however, knowing she would not rest until she had his declaration. "What would you like to do?" he asked.

"We can go to a movie or play miniature golf. We could even… " Her words tapered to quiet.

Just in front of her, the air began to thicken, liquefy. Silver mist swirled and tangled together, rising all the way to the ceiling. Julia blinked, unsure of what she was seeing. Heart pounding, she jumped back. Tristan had already pushed to his feet, his daggers drawn. The mist began to spread and billowed throughout the kitchen. When it cleared, Julia gasped. Her jaw went slack. Zirra stood next to the same very large, very angry-looking man that had been with her before. Julia focused on Zirra. Here was the woman who had cursed Tristan, who had tried to break his pride and his spirit, to make him suffer for all of eternity.

Julia didn't think about her next actions, didn't consider the repercussions of what she was going to do. She jolted forward, fist clenched, and punched Tristan's tormentor with every ounce of strength she possessed.

Zirra's head whipped to the side and before she could recover, Julia punched her again. "You deserve a lifetime of suffering," Julia ground out. "And damn if I'm not ready to give it to you." Tristan grabbed her shoulders and jerked her behind him. His body shook with the force of his… fear?

Julia gripped his waist, hating that this big, strong man could experience terror like this. "Do not hurt her, Zirra," he commanded. " 'Tis me you want."

"You are right. I do want you, but that bitch is going to suffer." When Zirra raised her arms, Tristan launched himself at her but it was too late. By the time he reached her, she had already focused her hate-filled eyes on Julia and uttered a spell.

Heaviness instantly settled over Julia's eyelids, and lethargy coursed through her veins. "Tristan," she said, growing weaker by the second. Her knees buckled. Thankfully, he rushed back to her side and was able to catch her.

"What did you do to her?" he croaked to Zirra.

She merely smiled smugly and rubbed her fingertips over her bloodied mouth.

"Julia," he whispered, cupping her cheek. "What is wrong?" No response. "What did you do to her?" he roared.

"Romulis helped me regain my powers," Zirra gloated. "I used them to cast a spell of sickness over her body."

"Break it," Tristan commanded.

Fear raced through him, more potent than any other emotion he'd ever endured, because he knew Zirra would not heed him. She was evil incarnate. If she could cast him to an eternity of hell when she professed to love him, what would she do to Julia? A woman who stood in the way of his possession? Julia's skin quickly lost all color, becoming so pallid he saw the blue trace of her veins. She was so silent, so lifeless.

"Save her," he choked, his eyes blurred as he addressed Romulis. "Save her now."

"I cannot," Romulis said, directing a furious scowl to Zirra. "The Druinn cannot break each other's spells, and well Zirra knows it. I did not bring her here for this. I had no idea her powers had returned so greatly."

Tristan's fists clenched around Julia's clothing. He needed her more than he needed to take his next breath. He needed to spend an eternity hearing her laugh, seeing her smile. She represented everything that was good and right. She did not deserve the fate Zirra was giving her, a torturous punishment that only an unstable mind could mete out. He could not let that happen. He could not let Zirra hurt Julia.

He had once refused to beg this sorceress for his own life. But he would beg for Julia's. With pleasure. Without another thought, he gently laid Julia atop her table and dropped to one knee.

"Please, Zirra, let me have the life I have built for myself. Let me have Julia healthy and whole and in peace. Please… I am begging you. Leave us to our life."

Scowling, Romulis strode to him and tried to jerk him to his feet.

"Do not beg her," he said.

Tristan held fast. Zirra's smile vanished and in its place was a grimace so fierce he had never seen its like.

"What do you think you are doing?" she screeched. "You dare beg me now? And for her? She is nothing, I tell you. Nothing!"

"Nay, she is everything."

"I will not let you do this. Where is your box?"

"Please, Zirra. Please," he rushed out. "I am here on my knees for you when I swore never to beg again."

Zirra screeched, "Where is your box?"

Romulis released Tristan and grabbed her shoulders. "Do you see what he is willing to do for this woman?" he demanded of her, shaking her with all of his might. "Do you see how much he wants her? How much he does not want you?"

Tension crackled between them.

"You know not of what you speak," she screamed.

He rattled her again.

"How can you not realize you are meant to be my life-mate?"

She paused for only a heartbeat, then tried to slap away his arms without success.

"I do not realize it because it is not true."

"Liar. I am calling in my favor. Leave Tristan and his woman alone, and give us a chance."

Panic washed over Zirra's features, then she paused and smiled slowly.

"I am afraid I have already granted your favor, Romulis. You told me to come here and here I am."

A muscle ticked near his left eye, until finally he ground out, "Curse you, Zirra. You destroy everyone in your life."

"What do you care, Romulis?" she asked, haughty now with her victory. "Even without Tristan I would not come to you."

All emotion drained from Romulis's features. Defeated at last, he dropped his arms to his sides and stepped away from her. Tristan tried one last time to save the life of the woman he had come to cherish. "Heal her and let me stay here with her, Zirra. Please."

Mouth tight in her rage, Zirra strode to him. She glared down at him, her eyes barely visible behind her lashes. "Get off your knees, curse you. Stand before your master."

He remained where he was, sweating, trembling. Zirra wasn't going to grant his request. There was only one thing he could do. His stomach twisted painfully. How great would his suffering be because of his next action? Immeasurable. But he would do anything to save Julia's life. Anything.

"Do you vow to heal Julia," he said, "to leave her and all of her family alone if I give you the box?"

"Aye," Zirra said eagerly.

"Swear it by the Kyi-en-Tra Crystal," Tristan added. Such a vow could never be broken without death, and they both knew it.

She didn't hesitate.

"I swear."

"Let me first say goodbye," he said. Dying inside, he pushed to his feet and leaned over Julia, whispering in her ear, "Remember me fondly, sweet dragon, for I will never forget you. Live your dream. Love another. Have your children and be happy." She moaned.

He placed a soft kiss on her lips and tried to memorize her features while everything inside him crumbled, withered.

"It is there," he told Zirra, motioning to the plant with a tilt of his chin.

On shaky legs, Zirra inched toward it. Once there, she dropped to her knees and slowly released the false bottom. A gasp parted her lips. Slowly she lifted the box. Her greedy hands clasped around it with reverence.

"I have fulfilled my part of the bargain, Zirra, now fulfill yours."

She nodded and waved one hand through the air. Julia moaned again, stared. Already her color had begun to return. He pushed out a relieved breath. She was going to live, he thought, as she slowly opened her eyes. She reached for him.

Though it was the hardest thing he had ever done, he forced himself to turn away from her and face Zirra.

"You will be in my bed this night," the black-haired witch snapped, striding to him. "Where you belong. Take us home, Romulis. Take us home."

Without uttering a word, Romulis waved his hand through the air. The only thing that betrayed the sorcerer's emotions was the shaking of his fingers.

Tristan felt the box's walls close around him. Darkness. Silence. Only the awareness that he was a vaporous entity. Before, it would have killed him to go willingly into his prison, but now, now he was happy for it. Julia was safe, and gladly he awaited his next summons, knowing what he must do.

"Come."

He heard Zirra's summons and obeyed without hesitation. He appeared in her bedchamber. The walls, the bed, the floor, were all as white as he remembered. Too, her heart was as black as he remembered.

"Zirra," he said softly, languidly.

"Aye."

She smiled, standing naked and ready before the hearth. Flames kindled behind her, illuminating her body with a glowing amber halo.

"I am here, my pet. My glorious slave."

"I have been waiting for this summons," he said, and she caught the truth in his tone. Her smile grew.

"Did I not tell you Julia meant nothing."

"You did say that."

Now her eyes softened.

"You are mine once again."

"That is the way it appears."

"Come here and welcome me with a kiss."

He did, hating every step that brought him closer to her. The moment he reached her, she cupped his cheeks in her hands and forced his head down. Their lips smashed together. He hated her taste, her smell. The way her mouth pulled and stretched against his. The way her teeth scraped his. When his response did not meet with her approval, she fell back, eyes narrowed.

"I will make you forget that woman if it kills you."

Tristan stepped back, as well, and crossed his arms over his chest. He was ready, beyond ready, to at last take his fate into his own hands.

"I have something to tell you first."

Impatient, she tugged at his shirt until his chest was exposed and she could lick his nipples.

"And what is that, slave?"

He forced himself to groan an emotion he didn't feel. He watched as her eyes widened with hopefulness. He steadied his resolve. "I love…»

"Aye," she probed. "Tell me."

Her nails scraped into his chest.

"Tell me who you love. I have waited an entire lifetime to hear you utter these words."

"I… love.. Julia."

Three words that he had once thought impossible to utter. Three simple words that were suddenly more real and emotion filled than any he had ever spoken before. He inhaled sharply, feeling his heart swell with the force of the love he had just declared.

He loved Julia. She made him strong, not weak. She did not seek to master him, but only to return his love. "I love Julia," he said again.

And the spell that Zirra had held over him for far too long broke.

The air around him whirled. He was thrust back against the wall with the force of it. He felt invisible bands snap from his wrists and neck, and every docile acceptance he had ever given lifted from his shoulders. He doubled over, bellowed with every breath of air in his lungs. And when he straightened, he knew he was free.

Free!

The knowledge held no joy. Only a painful reminder that he was without Julia.

Zirra yelled with rage and flung herself at him, hitting and kicking.

What should have been a catapult of teeth, fists and nails was only a tug of a creature to be pitied. He recognized her agony, because he experienced his own.

He sighed while Zirra raged. And he waited. Aye, he understood this witch's obsession. He understood it so well that he could almost forgive her. Almost.

"I will not rest until you've suffered a thousand deaths," she spat, then collapsed to her floor with a sharp cry of realization. She no longer owned him, and she could not curse him again now that his heart knew true love.

"Worry not. I will suffer forever," he replied, "for I am parted from the woman I love." How true those words were. His life was nothing without Julia.

He turned to leave Zirra sobbing, when a thunderous sound stopped him.

Percen, High Priest of the Druinn, appeared in a whirl of wind, resplendent in his royal robe of turquoise and scarlet cloth. The surge of power he brought with him almost knocked Tristan to the ground. He felt the High Priest's grip upon his arm and turned to face him.

"I wish words with you, Tristan. But first… " Percen released Tristan and pointed an accusatory finger at Zirra. "I must deal with you. You are a disgrace to our kind."

"Nay, I am the best of our kind," she snarled, jolting up.

"Keep talking. You are only increasing your punishment."

Gone went her haughty smile, her smug air. She looked petrified and snatched up her robe in an attempt to cover herself.

"What of Romulis? He aided me."

"Nay. He aided me by distracting you, and thought he could save you in the process."

"Percen—"

"I told you to leave this mortal alone. I told you the Fates would one day return him."

Tristan stared at the man who had hurtled him through the galaxies and felt… empty. He could not hate the man for having sent him to Julia, any more than he could despise Zirra, who felt love's arrow so fiercely in her heart. But all he wanted now was to return to Julia.

"Percen—"

Percen silenced Zirra with a wave of his hand.

"You will interfere in the lives of mortals no more. The Alliance is too important to our kind." He raised his hands in the air and uttered a spell very much like the pleasure slave spell Zirra had uttered over Tristan so long ago.

Zirra's eyes widened with horror as her body became transparent and then, like a whiff of smoke, blew into the very box Tristan had once occupied. Percen lifted the box.

"I'm giving you to the mortal Peter," he said, patting the lid. "I want you far away from my son. He was to keep you occupied," he muttered, "not fall in love with you. Mayhap some time away from you will show him the error of his ways."

Percen sighed, then looked to Tristan.

" 'Tis my hope Romulis will meet his true life-mate soon. Mayhap I will release Zirra later. For now, she must learn her proper place." He once again laid a hand on his shoulder. "I cast the world traveling spell because the time had not yet come to free you. Do you forgive me?"

"I understand and forgive." And he did.

"The Druinn will leave you in peace."

"Wait," Tristan rushed out. "I would first beg a favor from you."

Percen paused, his expression weary, then nodded.

"Ask."

"There is an otherworlder, Julia. I ask that you send me back to her."

He shook his head.

"Your place is here. The centuries you endured on other worlds have not yet passed here. To us, you have been gone only a few cycles. We are still adrift as the rebellion grows, and we are in need of leaders such as yourself to calm the angry waters of the people. I am sorry, Tristan, but you must stay here. It has already been prophesized that your firstborn will one day rule Imperia."

Tristan blinked, almost choking on a wave of longing. "My son will rule?"

"Your child will end the feud between our people. Permanently. Would you have this planet at war, simply to be with your woman?"

Part of him cried nay. Another part of him screamed aye.

"Bring Julia to me, then. She can give me this son, for I will not father a child with any other woman."

"What if she does not wish to come?"

He refused to ponder such an occurrence.

"She will come to me."

Percen sighed.

"Then I offer you this—if you spend the next season fighting the rebellion and still yearn for the otherworlder—and she wants to come to you—I will bring her to you."

Knowing he had no other option, Tristan gave a stiff nod.