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  “You mean you’ll do whatever is necessary to secure your gold,” Varin glared at her. “Well, you’re not doing this.”

  “That is enough!” The Queen’s eyes narrowed and she raised her hand, pointing something at him. With a sinking heart, Brynn saw it was the silver remote to his pain collar.

  “No!” she gasped but the Queen was already pressing the button.

  Varin stiffened in front of her but this time he didn’t fall to the floor. Instead, incredibly, he took a step back and threw out his arms, shielding Brynn completely with his big body.

  “You…will not…hurt her,” he gritted out, his deep voice strained with pain.

  Brynn could feel his big body vibrating just in front of her own and she could only imagine the agony he was in. But he refused to let himself fall and stood strong, blocking the way to keep her safe.

  His display seemed to take even the Queen by surprise.

  “Incredible,” she murmured, shaking her head. “I never realized before the lengths to which you would go to serve the Princess, slave …or the amount of trouble you could be.”

  She pressed another button on the remote and the trembling of the big Kindred’s massive body suddenly stopped. For a moment Brynn was afraid her mother had killed him and that he would fall to her feet in a moment, dead. Her heart seemed to stop in her chest. If that happened…if she lost him forever that way…

  “There—I’ve put him in freeze mode,” her mother said to the men at arms. “Now do your duty and chain him to the wall there while I think of what to do with him. Hurry! This function of the collar doesn’t last forever!”

  The men at arms seemed uncertain at first—possibly still frightened that the big Kindred would somehow escape. But after a glare from the Queen, the captain came forward and grabbed one of Varin’s arms. The other men at arms, taking their cues from him, grabbed the other and soon they had him chained in the old, rusty iron manacles against the wall, facing the strange chair. He looked like a statue to Brynn’s horrified eyes—a statue of himself, frozen in place and unable to move.

  “Stop it! Let him go!” Brynn would have run to her Kindred but, at a nod from her mother, Dr. Bri’geth had her by the arm again. But this time his grip was steely. Tug as she might, Brynn couldn’t get free. Instead, she stared desperately at Varin. “He’s so still!” she cried. “What have you done?”

  “I’ve taken care of the problem,” the Queen said crisply. “One problem at least.” She shook her head and looked at Varin warily. “This level of devotion really is unacceptable. It’s a pity we can’t transfer your guard’s affection and protectiveness to the Crown Prince, your brother, but as he is so fixated on you, I’m afraid it would be quite impossible.”

  “Transfer his affection? What are you talking about?” Brynn cried. “Varin is my guard—the only male I want near me!”

  “Which is yet another problem,” the Queen snapped. “We can’t have him going with you to cause trouble for Sovereign X’izith on Zhymur, or whatever the name of his planet is.” She crossed her arms and drummed her fingertips as though thinking hard.

  Brynn felt like her heart was in her throat and a sense of dread so heavy she couldn’t speak had descended on her. Please, she thought. Oh please, Goddess—don’t let her be saying what I think she’s saying! Don’t let her take Varin away from me! It was what she feared the most and it stopped her heart in her chest to think her worst fear was coming true.

  “Can’t…leave…the Princess…with no…protection,” Varin suddenly rasped, clearly forcing the words out. “Bonded…must…protect…”

  “So the collar’s freeze function is wearing off,” the Queen snapped. “Lovely. And the first thing out of your mouth is your wish to protect Brynnalla.”

  “Because it’s his job—it’s what you bought him to do,” Brynn exclaimed.

  “No, it’s gone far past that—far past protection and into obsession.” The Queen shook her head. “To me, it appears that the blood bond we so rashly agreed to is the source of this issue.” She pointed at Varin. “You, slave. You think you have some kind of special tie to the Princess—some right to her just because you’ve been trained to guard her.”

  “I’m…devoted to her.” Varin’s words were coming easier now. “More devoted…than you ever were,” he growled at the Queen.

  She glared at him furiously.

  “Enough! You have embarrassed and insulted me for the last time, slave! I should have you killed!”

  Brynn’s heart skittered in her chest like a wild, frightened thing and her palms were suddenly damp with sweat.

  “Mother, please no! Don’t do that! I…I’ll do anything you say—go anywhere you want, even with Sovereign X’izith—without a word of complaint. Only don’t kill Varin—please.”

  “Brynn, no!” Varin shook his head. “No—don’t do that! You can’t trade yourself for me—I’m supposed to protect you!”

  “We protect each other.” Brynn gave him a small, trembling smile and looked back at her Lady-mother the Queen. “Please, mother…”

  “Well…” The Queen frowned, clearly weighing her options. “Very well,” she said at last. She turned to Lady Tasmina, who was standing just outside the cell door, watching with wide eyes.

  “There’s a slaver ship in the Imperial Docks right now—I know because I bought a few new maids for the East Wing from them. Have a message sent to them at once—tell them I have a slave to sell who’s been trained as an Arena warrior.” She smiled cruelly at Varin. “He ought to fetch a handsome price.”

  “I’ll go at once.” The Lady Tasmina curtsied and fled.

  “Very good. Now…” The Queen made an impatient motion to Dr. Bri’geth, who was still holding Brynn’s arm in an iron grip. “Go on—get on with it!”

  “No!” More of the collar’s effect seemed to have worn off for Varin strained at his chains, dragging on the rusted manacles that held him to the opposite wall. “No, don’t do this!”

  “Be silent, slave, or I’ll freeze you again,” the Queen snapped. “And you— do as you’re told, Brynnalla,” she added, glaring at Brynn. “Do as you promised and behave if you want your slave to live.”

  “Yes, my Lady-mother,” Brynn whispered, feeling cold and alone. “I…I will keep my word.”

  “Good. Now I am going out to be certain the Sovereign isn’t getting too restless.” The Queen pointed at Dr. Bri’geth. “You—hurry up!”

  “Yes, my Queen.” He bowed low, still somehow keeping a grip on Brynn’s arm as the Queen swept from the room. “Now then, my dear—just come with me,” he said to Brynn.

  “Don’t do this, Bri’geth.” Varin’s voice was low and hoarse and Brynn could see he was still straining at his chains. “Don’t, as you value your life! I swear to all the Gods that ever were I’ll kill you if you hurt her!”

  The doctor’s lips thinned. “I am obeying orders from the Queen. I have no choice.”

  Brynn was obeying orders too. She gritted her teeth and went with the Court Physician as he led her to the ominous rusted throne. Before she knew it, he was removing her robe and two of the men at arms were pushing her back against the chair.

  She felt a sudden stab of fear.

  “Wait!” she tried to protest. “Just give me a moment!”

  But it did no good—they were too strong for her. Looking over her shoulder, she caught a quick glimpse into the black hole in the center of the chair. She couldn’t be sure but it looked like there was something down there—something silver that gleamed dully in the dim light. What was it? A metal rod of some kind?

  Brynn wanted to ask but before she knew what was happening, the cold metal was biting into the backs of her knees and she was forced to sit. Her wrists were being strapped to the cold iron arms of the chair and then someone else was positioning her legs and strapping her ankles down as well.

  It all happened so fast that by the time she tried to struggle, it was too late—she was fastened securely to the defloweri
ng chair with no way to get loose. Worse, the slit in her gown was gaping open, making her feel horribly naked as her bare bottom hung down over the hole in the chair’s seat.

  Brynn wanted to close her legs but she couldn’t—she was opened…exposed…vulnerable. She thought of the silver rod she’d seen glimmering in the darkness of the throne and a shiver ran through her.

  Oh please…oh please no…

  “What are you doing?” she gasped, as the guards finished buckling her in place and withdrew. “What’s going to happen to me?” She had an idea of what she was in for but she couldn’t quite let herself admit it. It was like a dark omen-stone clutched in her palm and she couldn’t uncurl her fingers to examine it.

  “Princess…” There was a troubled look in the old physician’s eyes. “I need you to understand, this machine was developed in older times, hundreds of cycles ago in fact, when females had…more difficulty on their wedding nights. You see, the physiological make-up of a royal female is such that—”

  Suddenly the Queen’s voice could be heard outside the cell door.

  “Well? Is it done yet? Is she ready to go?”

  “I do not know, my Queen,” one of the men at arms replied. “I have not heard anything since you left.”

  “Bri’geth!” The Queen’s voice was raised in anger. “Bri’geth, get out here at once!”

  “Yes, my Queen!” The old physician hurried out, leaving Brynn, strapped to the cold iron chair.

  “Brynn!” Across from her, Varin strained at his chains. For a moment—a brief, shining moment of hope—Brynn thought one of them was coming loose. But she soon saw it was just her imagination. Ancient and rusted as the chains and manacles might be, they were still terribly strong and heavy. They held her Kindred in place though he twisted in them until streams of blood ran from his wrists where the rusted iron bit into them.

  “Varin…” She wanted to cry but she struggled to keep calm instead. “Varin what…what are they going to do? Please tell me it isn’t what I think!”

  “Princess…little one…” He strained harder, the blood running down his arms in streams, a look of helpless rage on his face.

  “Aren’t you finished yet?” Brynn heard her Lady-mother snap. “The Sovereign is coming and he expects his bride to be ready to go!”

  “I was just about to explain the process to the Princess—” the physician began but the Queen cut him off.

  “There isn’t time for a lot of blather, Bri’geth. Just get it done.”

  “But the Princess is innocent,” the physician exclaimed. “She must be told what is going to happen to her. And I must protest at using this old torture-device of a deflowering throne in the first place! Your Majesty, if you want the Princess’s maiden barrier removed, I can manage it with quite a simple operation in my surgery with the use of local anesthetic to minimize the pain.”

  “No,” the Queen snapped. “There’s no time and besides, you know the reason this device was developed in the first place is that it is forbidden for a commoner—even a physician—to touch a royal in their private areas.”

  “But I don’t even know the state of the equipment! It may not work correctly—it may injure the Princess—I’ve not even had time to add any lubrication to ease the way!”

  The Queen’s voice was as cold as ice—as cold as the iron deflowering throne Brynn was strapped to.

  “Get on with it, Bri’geth,” she snapped. “Or lose your head.”

  The Court Physician came skittering back into the room, his face down, his eyes lowered. Without looking at Brynn or Varin again, he ran around behind the throne and Brynn heard him doing something to the mechanism attached to it.

  There was a mechanical clanking and a grinding of gears that made her heart jump into her chest.

  “Dr. Bri’geth?” she gasped in a wavering voice. “Please, what—”

  “Don’t do it,” Varin growled. “Don’t you fucking do it, Bri’geth!”

  “I’m sorry.” The Court Physician’s voice was brusque now, as though he had decided he had no more time for idle chit-chat…or for guilt. “But this must happen. Princess—brace yourself for the deflowering.”

  Brace myself? Brynn thought wildly. Was this what deflowering meant—removing her maiden barrier? But Varin had told her it would hurt and she would bleed and that she ought to be careful not to even press on it too hard!

  Suddenly the idea that she’d been trying to hold back came full into the light and the glimpse she’d gotten into the hole of the chair made horrible sense. The long, dull silver rod she’d seen down there was waiting—waiting like a snake about to strike!

  She tried with all her might to press her legs together and push up from the chair. But there was another strap—one she’d scarcely noticed before—across her hips. She could do nothing as, with a shrieking of gears long rusted, the silver rod came up and did its work.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Varin strained against his chains, his wrists cut to the bones by the iron manacles, but he knew the moment it was too late. Knew because he felt Brynn’s pain as his own—as he always had.

  He felt her fear and shame and horror as the silver rod pierced between her thighs. He felt her agony as it rammed home inside her with a wicked thrust, ripping her innocence from her, invading her…violating her…changing her forever.

  He felt the hot blood run down her thighs as the rod thrust twice more, piercing her painfully to be certain its job was done, before finally withdrawing.

  And yet she didn’t make a sound.

  Varin had sunk down to the floor by this time, slumped against the cold stone wall in defeat. But he made himself look at her.

  Brynn was white-faced and silent. Somehow she had managed not to cry out—but her bottom lip was clenched tight between her small, even white teeth. He saw a trickle of crimson slide down her chin but her eyes were dry. Was she still in shock? Or was she simply holding herself together through some superhuman effort of will?

  Varin didn’t know—he only knew he hated himself now.

  This was his fault, he told himself—he had failed in his one task—to protect her. He had not been able to save her innocence or keep her from this pain.

  I should be killed, he thought dully. Being sold away to another slaver is too good for me. I should die for how I failed her.

  “There now. All finished.” Dr. Bri’geth spoke with forced cheerfulness, as though talking to a child he’d just given a quick inoculation to. As though he hadn’t just violated Brynn’s trust as well as her body, Varin thought grimly.

  At last Brynn spoke. “Please,” she whispered in a low, broken voice. “If…if you’re finished, can I go now? Can…can you please unstrap me?”

  “Of course.” The Court Physician fumbled in his haste to remove her straps. As he did, Varin found he couldn’t even look Brynn in the eyes. He looked down at his bleeding wrists instead, hating himself, wishing himself dead.

  I couldn’t help her…I couldn’t save her… It was like a mantra in his head.

  And then he heard the pattering of her little feet and knew she was free. Varin expected her to go past him, to leave him behind with good reason. But she stopped in front of him instead. Looking up he saw her slender legs, a thin, trickle of scarlet running down one thigh.

  The sight made his heart clench so fiercely he couldn’t breathe. He strained against his chains once more, hating himself with the fire of a thousand suns.

  But instead of ignoring or reviling him, Brynn only spoke his name.

  “Varin,” she whispered and her voice was little and broken. “Varin, please—can’t you even look at me now?”

  Slowly, he made himself look up. Her quiet gray eyes were wounded and he knew her pain wasn’t only physical.

  “Princess,” he said hoarsely. “Brynn…I failed you.”

  “Don’t talk like that. I…” There was a catch in her voice. “Varin, I’ll never see you again. I want so much to hug you goodbye but you’ve alread
y endured so much pain…”

  To hear her talking about his pain, as though her own was nothing, made Varin feel as though his heart was going to burst. He didn’t deserve her touch but Gods, how he wanted it—wanted to hold her in his arms just once more before they were parted forever!

  “Little one,” he said roughly, looking up at her. “I told you before, I don’t care about the pain. If you need a hug, come get one.”

  With a little cry of pure misery, she threw herself into his lap. Wrapping her slender arms around his neck, she pressed herself against him and at last the tears came. Hot and salty, they wet his neck and chest as she sobbed against him.

  Varin felt the familiar electrifying pain of his obedience band but he didn’t give a damn—he only wished he could hold her closer. Chained to the wall as he was, all he could do was let her hug him and whisper in her ear.

  “Little one, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

  “I love you,” she whispered back. “I don’t want to go somewhere I’ll never see you again. Varin, I love you.”

  Her sudden admission startled him and filled his heart to overflowing.

  “Brynn,” he murmured and then she was kissing him—desperate, inexpert kisses that were clearly her first—they were filled with passion and sincerity nonetheless.

  Varin kissed her back, wishing desperately that he could put his arms around her. Wishing he could take her away from this horrible place and keep her safe forever…

  And then someone was yanking her away—up and out of his lap.

  * * * * *

  Brynn gasped at the abrupt ending to her first kiss.

  “You little slut—no wonder you were so eager to see him saved,” the Queen snapped, glaring down at her. “Was there even any need to use the deflowering throne at all or had the two of you already found a way to get around your slave’s obedience bracelet long before this?”

  “Your Majesty…” Dr. Bri’geth, who had been standing to one side, possibly trying to deal with his guilt as Brynn and Varin said their goodbyes, came forward hastily. “My Queen, please,” he exclaimed. “I assure you, the Princess was a virgin! Just look at the blood.” He pointed to Brynn’s slender thighs, smeared with crimson and Brynn felt a dull shame.