Chapter 11 Chapter Eleven
Power can be admired. Bonus points if the person in power is someone you love, and don’t want to admit the truth—even to yourself~ Xarius Vancei.
Xarius
I picture her—Lillyan—in my mind’s eye as my finger thrusts become faster. The girl moans loudly, her back plastered against the hard cold walls in the hidden corner. I abruptly place my hand against her mouth, muffling her loud moans. Anyone who’s passing by, can hear us. I don’t particularly care, but I don’t want them to hear either. I am supposed to be at the meeting which should be starting soon, aiding my brothers to reshuffle the power hierarchy in the pack, and getting the hang of the laws and regulations. I don’t look forward to it. I rather spend my time torturing someone, and finger-fucking a kitchen maid as I’m currently doing. My cock presses painfully against my trousers, but I don’t make any move to take it out. The girl climaxes against my hand, soaking it up with her juice. I give her an indifferent stare, and pull back.
Her eyes drop to my erection and she quietly goes down on her knees, hands stretching to take it out. I pull back at the last moment, and wave her away.
“Not a word of this should be known or heard by anyone. If it is–” I let the words hang, and she visibly pales, nodding quickly.
“Y-yes, Alpha Xarius.” She nods vigorously. She’s still eyeing my boner, despite sending her away, and I fix her a pointed glare.
“What?” I snap.
She hesitates, fear coloring her eyes. “I should help you take it out. You’re heading to the meeting–” she pauses, and I relent. I don’t encourage her, but I don’t stop her as she leans in again and takes my cock out of my trousers, precum staining the tip of my hard eight and a half inches. She licks it off, and I stifle a groan. Then she runs her tongue over the head and takes me into her warm mouth in one slow motion, eyes meeting mine. Whatever she sees there, scares her enough to direct her attention back on my cock instead of looking at me again.
I get tired of her slow moves—it is too intimate for my liking. It feels like something a lover would do to you. And she’s not my lover. My thrusts in her mouth are fast and not in rhythm. With a low groan, I cum into her mouth, put myself in place with an inward promise to wash myself up later.
“Not a word of this to anyone,” I warn again and slip out of the corner. It is a rebellion for me, a secret desire to taint the walls of my father’s throne hall and Alpha’s palace. The servants move to and fro, faces paling when they see me, then hurriedly bowing after snapping out of it. I don’t particularly care for it. I’m still in ecstasy of fucking one of my late father’s—the form of address leaves a sour taste in my mouth—servants. And I’m going to do it again. And again. And again, until he turns in his grace, wishing to rise from the dead and deal with me. Well, guess who’s alive and who’s not? A fulfilled smile masks my face, which immediately clears off as a large pillar comes into view. The memory hits me with an intense force, and I subconsciously ball my hands into fists. My steos are slow, distanced from my body even, as I move in its direction. The pack’s crest is etched on it—a howling wolf, a long sword farting from its mouth.
I think if I look closer at the pillar, feel around the edges, and examine properly, I’ll see my blood. And I’ll look around and see my discarded bow and arrow—now broken and kicked far away from me.
And then–
I pause and place my hand on the pillar’s cold surface. If I look hard again, if I let my mind wander to the past, I’ll see my father slamming my head against the pillar again and again. My blood which stains his expensive shoes doesn’t deter him. Neither does my cry—the pained tears from a seven year old boy.
“Useless!” A big slam. I scream. “How dare you shoot that arrow in the direction where I’m passing with an important guest?” Another slam. His Beta; Pulian, is standing by his side, ready with a towel and handkerchief. Not to clean my wound of course, but to clean off my father’s hand once he’s done punishing me. In my childlike mind, I wonder if archery is a big enough offense to provoke my father to this extent.
A sword swished in the air, pulling me back from the past. I realize with a start, what I’ve been doing. I move sharply from the pillar, suddenly finding it offensive, and going over to the large windows from where I heard the swish. The meeting should be starting soon, but I’m not in a haste. Especially not as Pulian will be attending too. Goddess forbid that I’m scared of the man, but I’m afraid of what I’ll do in his presence. It’s too early to kill him.
I stare in astonishment at the source of the noise. It is a beautiful and feisty source indeed, hand gripped expertly around the sword’s hilt, swinging in poised practice. I don’t know how long I watch her for, but I’m a bit startled when she raises her head, staring directly at me. I’m taken aback at the hardness in her eyes. It’s a fleeting moment, but I want to bow to her. The feeling is gone before I can make sense of it. From below, she mouths five words, “Care to taste my sword?”
I’m fucking turned on by how domineering she sounds, and I reluctantly find my way to the throne room. The noise hits me like a splash as I pull the door open.