Gena Showalter: The Pleasure Slave

He hesitated. A pain so great it was almost physical again lit his eyes, making his lavender irises swirl with the force of a storm.

"Nay. I love you not."

He plunged into her so deeply she felt his essence reverberate from head to toe.

"However, I will be with you for the rest of your life. I am willing to do whatever is needed to convince you of that fact."

He was a man of his word.

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.