Playing With Fire Read online

  He couldn't stop watching, much as he wanted to feign disinterest. It was... fascinating, the way the mage's body moved, glowed. Zujan's eyes were on his, lips parted, fingers almost gentle in the slave's hair.

  He could feel his own body begin to respond to the vision. Before he could betray himself, he turned his back, pressing himself against the wall, chilling himself through. A soft, knowing chuckle teased him, ending in a low purr.

  He shuddered, his weakness known, seen. It wasn't fair, he was fighting at a large disadvantage. Still, that didn't mean he needed to roll over. He turned and went back to the bars that held him in. "You will not defeat me so easily, Zujan."

  "I do not wish to defeat you, child." Those dark eyes laughed. "I wish to enjoy you."

  "To do so you will have to defeat me. I will not willingly kneel before you."

  "We shall see." Those dark eyes danced down toward Rall. "Come, Pet. The hour grows late and the comfort of my bed and its new furs calls."

  "Spoils of blackmail. They would have given you nothing if they did not fear you." The talk of his country's furs made him shiver anew in the cold dampness of his prison.

  His words fell unnoted onto the stone, the mage and his slave simply disappearing into the shadows, leaving him with the slowly fading sparks of light.

  He wrapped his arms around himself, crouching in a corner that seemed less draughty. He didn't know what do to, how to escape this place, and his belly was empty, his throat parched and he was cold, so cold.

  He blinked back tears that threatened. It mattered not that he was alone and no one would know. He must stay strong if he was going to make good his escape.

  ***

  The night was spent in glorious perversions, Rall spread and sobbing, shifting and begging for him. They spent the morning abed, the mists and the clouds leaving the stone rooms clammy and chill, Rall keeping the bedstead warm. Finally, after they lunched in bed he rose and dressed, Zujan wandering idly down to the dungeon, checking on his new Pet.

  He didn't bother speaking to the guard, simply snapped his fingers and had a comfortable, padded chair delivered immediately so that he might relax. Breaking prisoners was dreadfully tiring work. Then he had a pitcher of iced water and a sliced pear placed beside him on a tiny table.

  "Did you have a restful night, Pet?"

  Wintras jerked out of his doze, the lovely body uncurling as the Prince stood. Such pretty muscles.

  He was glared at, but Wintras made no sound aside from the occasional chatter of his teeth. He poured a glass of water, drinking it slowly. "I stayed abed until late, resting with my sweet Rall. The weather is hopelessly chill in the autumn, don't you agree?"

  A shiver passed through Wintras and he was sure there would be goosebumps aplenty to see if he were closer.

  "Yes, fortunately the rooms above have hearths, soft bedding, soups to warm the stomach." Stubborn pet. Wintras bit his lip, the only sign of weakness aside from the soft shivers that his pet could not control. As he watched though, Wintras' eyes would return again and again to the food and water before being torn away. "Simply say the word and your thirst will be eased."

  "At what cost?" asked Wintras, voice hoarse.

  "I ask nothing but your request." But your obedience.

  The dark blue eyes looked at him and he could see need war with fear and stubbornness. He could tell the moment Wintras steeled his resolve, the stiff body growing stiffer, chin lifting proudly. "I will ask nothing of you but my freedom."

  "Your freedom is bound to your obedience, Wintras."

  "Obedience is merely another prison."

  He arched an eyebrow. "There are some that say that obedience is the only true path to freedom."

  Wintras snorted. "Words to make their obedience less of a betrayal."

  Oh, did he enjoy playing with this one. "A betrayal of what, dear boy?"

  "Of self." A draught moved through the dungeon, his pet shivering violently.

  "And what you are doing now? Is it not a betrayal of your own need?" He allowed a frisson of heat to warm the air, allowing the boy to remember those pleasures.

  "Yes. One I cannot control and yes, I tell myself that to make myself feel better."

  "I do not wish you harm, Pet. Simply obedience, respect, things a prince needs to know."

  Wintras drew himself tall and still and proud once more. "I know those things, Zujan. And to those who have earned and deserve them, I offer them freely."

  "Yet, I have earned all my rewards, have I not? I rule. I provide." The effort of warming the room chilled him and he called for a fur to warm himself.

  "You steal and threaten and blackmail the lands that surround yours and every year your lands grow larger as you absorb more. How is that earned? You are a tyrant."

  "I take what is in my power to take. You are a prince, child, and one hopes that one day you will rule. Until then, you know not of what you speak." Impertinent child!

  Wintras' eyes widened and he turned his head to look in the other direction. The long hair slid over Wintras' shoulder, partly obscuring the handsome face. Ah. A crack in that armor. "I am sure your father has taught you of what a ruler must do."

  The prince's fingers curled into fists, Wintras remaining silent.

  He continued on, idly snacking on a slice of pear. "For you know, the rumor is that your father was not born a king... That he took his crown by a mixture of lucky happenstance and force..."

  "I am not my father and my people love me."

  "Love is a lie told by girls and old women." He snorted. "Love has no place in rule."

  "That isn't what I believe." Wintras seemed suddenly at peace, looking at nothing, but obviously seeing something. "Fear isn't necessary if you treat your subjects right. They will gladly die for you if they believe you will do the same for them."

  "Or take your head and parade it through the capital on a pike, much like your father's predecessor."

  "He was evil and cruel and ruled by oppression." Wintras looked at him again. "Like you."

  "Evil? Me? Come now. Jeremiah? Am I evil?"

  The guard shook his head. "No, my Lord."

  He nodded at the captain of the guards. "Do I provide for your family? Assure education and land for your sons?"

  Another nod. "You do, my Lord."

  Wintras snorted. "And how do you get the land for his sons? You steal it from another."

  "As you will. It is the price of power." Surely the boy was not this much of a fool...

  "I will find another way."

  "You will fail."

  "Then I will do so on my own terms." Wintras looked away again. So stubborn. So very, very sure of himself.

  He snorted, becoming frustrated, unhappy. "Not until you accept mine, Slave."

  Wintras turned to look at him, a knowing look in the dark eyes. "Ah, we finally have the truth. I am your slave."

  "Until you learn your place. Yes." His temper flared, the magic calling the bar'cha, curious and wanting to play.

  "My place is caring for my people, Zujan. I imagine you will have me killed before I believe otherwise."

  "I gave your parents my word, Wintras. You will live." He was through with this, through with today's banter. Tomorrow they could play again. "Sleep well, Pet. If you hunger, ask for me."

  Then he swept up the stairs, hair tossing, steadfastly ignoring the irritation the boy created beneath his skin.

  ***

  Wintras had no idea how long he had been in the dungeon. There had been several changes of guard since Zujan had left after taunting him with food and drink. He was still shivering involuntarily and though he was hungry, it was the thirst that was the worst. His throat was sore; his mouth felt like it was made of sand.

  He thought it was most likely that he was going to die from thirst, quite literally, and it seemed an awfully harsh way to die. It would have been kinder to be burned to a crisp.

  A wave of warmth had passed through him and suddenly he was hot, burning up. He lo
oked around for Zujan, but the man was nowhere to be seen and as quickly as the warmth had come, it disappeared again, leaving him shivering violently. Fever dreams followed soon after that and he woke from them feeling worse than ever.

  A cool, soft hand stroked his cheek. "Do you thirst?"

  He tried to answer, but could not, his throat too dry. Was this another dream?

  Cool water brushed his lips. "Open for me, sweet one. Open for Sartis."

  Oh, it was a dream. Such gentle hands, such sweet cool water and the soft voice -- what could it be if not a dream? Wintras opened his mouth, moaning. Water dripped into his lips, blessedly sweet, sliding over his parched tongue. He swallowed it eagerly, moaning as it hit his throat. He blinked, struggling to focus. This was no dream.

  Dark eyes stared at him, so close, as water slid into his mouth. He blinked up at his benefactor, wondering who this was who dared to defy Zujan. Or was it the dungeons that were a dream? Another drink was offered, lips sweet and cool, gentle. He moaned again, confused, but so thirsty he would not refuse the water.

  Hands combed through his hair, smoothing it, warmth against him. He pressed close to the warmth before moving away again, trying to sit, to figure out where he was and what was going on.

  The water came again, along with a slow, seductive kiss. He sucked the water from the hot mouth, pressed close before tearing away again.

  Where?

  What?

  Who?

  "Shh..." Heat and softness surrounded him on every side, a sweet, warm drink pressed to his lips now. Oh, he wanted nothing more than to sink into this dream and drink and be warm and ease his spirit, but he didn't know what was real and he'd been fighting so hard.

  Zujan! He pulled himself up and tried to see his anonymous benefactor once more.

  "No more fighting. Just rest." Hands eased him down, soothing, warming him.

  "But..." His body betrayed him, melting into the warmth and comfort even as his mind told him to fight, to be strong. He could not. He was weak, tired and cold and thirsty and dying of hunger.

  The warm drink was offered again, soothing his hunger, easing his pain, relaxing him deep within. He floated in the warmth, belly no longer screaming, throat and mouth easing slightly. He decided that this must be a fever dream and he didn't want to wake from it, didn't want to be cold and hungry and thirsty in Zujan's dungeon.

  Blankets covered him, soft music soothing him as he sank into dreams.

  Chapter Two

  Rall sat, watching the interloper sleep. His master had said to watch the newcomer, to make sure the Prince was fed and bathed and pleasured, made comfortable and safe, much as he had been. It was Zujan's way, to mingle pleasure and pain, hope and despair, until one must cling to Zujan himself, hoping for answers. The Prince was lovely -- blond and strong and golden. Rall looked down at his own nut-brown body, slight and well-known. It would not be long before his status as favored slipped and he would be dressed and primped and sent back to the cold lands of his father.

  It wasn't fair, he didn't want to return, to rule, to be the Heir Apparent. He wanted to spend his nights in Zujan's bed, hearing the soft voice call him "Pet." He wanted to feel Zujan's shaft part his lips. He wanted to have the harem boys bow to him, acknowledge his position as favored.

  Well... Maybe he wanted to rule a *little*.

  Rall chuckled at himself, standing to go take a closer look at the Prince, the new little Pet, Zujan's slave.

  The prince moaned softly, shifting on the bed, the silk covers sliding away from the golden skin. Days of refusing food and water had left the Prince a little gaunt, but it did nothing to hide the lean muscles of Wintras' belly, the strong thighs, the long shaft between them.

  Rall took a drink of the cool water mixed with attar of alliset, then filled his lips again, and placed them against the Prince's, offering the man a drink. The alliset made the fire of passion blaze, his Master gave it to all of them in the water, assuring their pleasure and Zujan's amusement.

  Wintras' mouth opened beneath his lips, the Prince's mouth still parched for liquid. He fed Wintras one drink after another, tongue sliding in to taste. The amazing dark blue eyes blinked open, a soft moan meeting his tongue. "Who?" The Prince blinked, looking dazed, aroused, confused. It was a delicious sensation.

  "Shh... You are safe. It is only me, come to help you heal." He offered another drink, trusting in Wintras' hungers.

  Wintras accepted the drink eagerly, sucking on his tongue this time when he slipped it in. "I thought you were a fever-dream."

  "No. Your fever is gone." His hand slid over Wintras' belly, petting gently. "More water?"

  "Who are you?" The Prince asked, but his body was reacting to the touch, his mouth lifting for more.

  "Another Prince, like yourself." He smiled, took another kiss. "One day we might be friends, sitting across a banquet table."

  Wintras beamed at him. "You rescued me! I knew someone would."

  "You were brought from the dungeons. You were cold, sick, starving. You needed care." His fingers slid down farther, wrapping around the heavy cock, touching.

  "Brought?" Wintras frowned and then moaned, distracted by his touch. The Prince pushed up into his hand, moaning.

  "Mm... that's right. You can need, sweet Prince." He bent, tongue sliding over the tip.

  More moans met that, the Prince's body rippling, hips driving the hard shaft into his mouth. He moaned, eager, wanton, his own need sparked. A trembling hand slid through his hair, holding his head in place as the Prince gave himself over to the need coursing through him.

  Oh, strong. Sure. He purred, opening wide, sucking hard. Wintras moaned, hips moving faster, pushing harder, the arousal from the alliset strong, all encompassing. Rall knew, he could feel it in his own veins, setting him on fire. He cupped the Prince's heavy balls, careful not to touch behind. That prize belonged to another.

  "Oh!" The Prince cried out for him, prick throbbing as it emptied down his throat. Rall pumped his own shaft as he swallowed, hand working furiously. The Prince sank back onto the bed, panting, gasping, little shivers rocking the long body. He moved to lie against the warm body, rubbing, needing, so very close.

  "Rall! Did I give you leave to spend?" Zujan's voice snapped across the room.

  The Prince gasped and scrambled up, pushing into the corner with a silk sheet to cover himself. "You! No!"

  He looked back, almost panicking before understanding that this was yet another game for his beloved. He threw himself into Wintras' arms, shivering, sobbing. "Don't let him hurt me. Please."

  "What?" Wintras looked confused, but the Prince's arms went around him and he was pushed to 'safety' behind the Prince's body. "So he is not free after all."

  He met Zujan's gaze, the dark eyes amused and well-pleased. "Oh, he is free, little Prince. Free and spoiled and in need of discipline."

  "He cowers from you. Who can blame him -- you are a monster." The Prince's voice was harsh, his words lacking their earlier conviction. The lack of sustenance and the drugs were no doubt leaving him confused.

  "He cowers from my whip, dear boy." Zujan chuckled, leaned against the wall. The slender form was beautiful in black leather, hair down and curling about the perfectly formed body, dark jewels catching the sunlight.

  "Please, Master. Do not whip me. Do not allow him to whip me. Please."

  "You claim he is free, Zujan. Prove it. Leave him alone." The Prince obviously thought himself strong, thought he was being a protector.

  "You claim you would sacrifice yourself for those weaker than you. Submit to me willingly for a full cycle of the moon, and I will do as you ask for him."

  Wintras gasped, body jerking, going stiff. Then the Prince turned and looked at him.

  He looked back, eyes pleading, then Zujan spoke again. "Agree and I will return him to his father, unharmed."

  Rall gasped, jerked, eyes filling with tears.

  "Done." The Prince smiled at him. "You are a slave no longer." The han
d on his shoulder was gentle, warm and then Wintras was turning back to Zujan. "Now we will find out if you are a man of your word, Zujan."

  "I am, indeed." The tears splashed upon his cheeks, soft sobs coming as those dark eyes fastened on him. "I will have a carriage readied for you, Prince Rall of the North. You have served me well."