Canes and Scales Page 3

  “I agree for him to neglect you is base.” I hated asking my next blunt question. “Do you still blame him for banishing you?”

  “After my rash act? No. In truth I would have ordered me killed. In a sick fashion Father finally bestowed his own warped generosity on me. Despite the occasional mistreatment I feel far happier here.” Alasdaire suddenly rose from his chair. His face looked haunted. “Now, my Prince, I shall leave you since I feel sure you…”

  Not again! I pointed and delivered my command. “By the Powers, sit back down and stop telling me what I might or might not do already. I never realized Totandians were such skilled mind readers!”

  The shaken Alasdaire obediently sank into his chair. Great confusion dominated his expression but at least he listened to me. I shook my head in mock exasperation. “Clever Keith knows I appreciate a challenge, which is why he offered you to me. Tell me, my lad, are you still inclined to harm nobles?”

  Alasdaire replied in soft denial. “No, my Prince, since only my Father truly wronged me on such a cruel scale.”

  “Good. I’ll take your word on the ugly subject and consider it closed.” I flicked my fingers at the table. “Now finish your lunch.”

  The Halfling stared at me in further astonishment and returned to eating with haste. I filled his wine glass and then sampled the red. Spirited but lacking the white’s expertise. This day called for enjoying a bowl. I rose but gestured for Alasdaire to continue eating. Time for my pipe and fine Eastern long leaf. I relaxed, lit my pipe and watched Alasdaire select cheese and bread. Next he devoured olives, the remaining beef, and another cheese selection. The lad acted like they starved him.

  Alasdaire finally rested back and smiled. His fingers stroked his middle. “Thank you, my Prince. I appreciate fine food but Anders wants me slim, so he rations my food in case I decide to add gluttony to my long list of terrible sins. Ha, sometimes I want to sneak into the kitchen and eat myself into a round ball merely to spite him.”

  What a bizarre situation. I set my pipe in an empty dish. I regarded the beautiful young Halfling. After hearing his dangerous tale, I should turn him away, but I trusted him. My instincts often proved correct. Remember, Keith trusted him with me so I felt secure. “Well, my beauty, if you are finished, please prepare my bath.”

  “I feel honored to do such, my gentle Prince.” Alasdaire rose, leaned close, and smiled. I tilted my chin up and received a warm, talented kiss. Mmm. My mouth opened to accept Alasdaire’s lively assault. My fingers reached up and caressed his thick mane. Yes, ahh, delightful. Once he left me nearly breathless, Alasdaire drew back, stroked my cheek, and disappeared into the bathroom. Hmm, I believe I just experienced someone’s true nature. Quite a change from his sullen demeanor.

  Keith knew I’d enjoy a tempestuous noble Halfling. My clever cousin knew me all too well. I relaxed, sipped the red wine, and watched the bright sun flirt with streaky clouds. It looked like a stray storm might strike. More crows dashed across my view, racing the warm wind.

  Rustling drew my attention to the left. Alasdaire stood framed by the arch, clad in a black silk robe. “Your bath is ready, my Prince.”

  My breath caught in sincere appreciation. The snug black robe offered me a fine glimpse of where Alasdaire’s canes trailed across his firm chest. A narrow silver necklet sat low on his neck. Was the piece something inherited from his mother? The thin band looked uncomfortably snug against his dark skin. “Thank you, young lord.”

  Alasdaire’s voice emerged in a low, barely controlled tone. “Do not mock me, my Prince!”

  Ah, a return to the tiresome self-pity. “What did I say wrong? I am not mocking you since your noble canes mark you as a ruling Totandian. You are the grandson of a Duke and the son of a noble.”

  “I will not….” To my amazement Alasdaire stalked forward toward the suite’s door. What now? I scrambled from my seat, grabbed his arm and kissed his warm sweetness. The prickly Halfling instantly relaxed and let me savor his lips.

  I finally drew back and shook my head in amusement. “I see I shall enjoy quite a lively vacation. I’ll supposedly insult you then need to catch you before you run off in a snit. Why can’t you believe me, you young porcupine? I do not mock you, but if such words offend you, I shall not use them.”

  A low sigh escaped Alasdaire’s lips. He tucked his head under my chin in an intriguing gesture. His breath hit my neck. “My Prince, forgive me, but I have endured too many nobles mocking me for my heritage. You are right, my Prince, inside I feel noble but due to my rash actions I cannot be free.”

  “What if you escaped and fled to another country? I know rebellious Arta welcomes all races.”

  He leaned back and stared up at me. A twisted smile marred Alasdaire’s face. “My Prince, surely you know about a Torvine Catch? I believe your grandfather invented the clever punishment.”

  I gasped in acknowledgement. “But a Torvine Catch is outlawed unless….” My insipid sentence died away. By the Powers, how dreadful. Now I understood the necklet’s dangerous purpose.

  This time a mocking little smile answered my thoughtful silence. “Precisely, my Prince.”

  “This is wrong. You did not kill anyone, plus you acted from youthful impetuousness, not deadly premeditation.” My frown felt ancient. “The Catch is meant only for the most heinous crimes.”

  A slow headshake punctuated his reply. “It matters not, my Prince; the device captures me all the same. It tracks me as efficiently as a hunter. If I wander beyond the estate’s inner boundaries, the collar releases the poison needles. What a lovely contraption. Instant death.” His fingers tapped the now ugly to my sight silver band. “The King himself granted my caring Father permission to allow a licensed Catcher to bind me to Lord Keith’s property.”

  How did I not hear of such a special event? Ah, of course, years ago I was already at the front, deep in the Eastern battle. I closely monitored the use of the Catch; if I ignored the situation, my dreadful brother would use the cruel device far more than warranted. I found the practice abhorrent. Leave it to my deranged ancestors to decide to place the collar on the neck. After all, one would risk chopping off a hand or foot to escape death. Damn Edward for granting such a harsh punishment.

  I tried imagining being trapped in the same small area for long years and shuddered in distaste. No wonder Alasdaire felt destroyed. “I feel glad my cousin owns generous acreage.”

  Alasdaire’s fingers kept stroking the silver. “I agree, my Prince. At least I walk freely into the meadows and forest but not into the hills. I know when I swerve too close to my boundaries since the wretched thing tightens like a noose. I so wish to walk the hills and mountains. The rugged landscape calls to my blood, but I must deny the urge.”

  Curiosity prompted me. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  My mind reeled in distaste. “Wait, when did Keith place you into service?”

  “Lord Keith is a decent man. He waited until I was eighteen before he introduced me to the concept of being a companion. When I first arrived he knew I was not ready for intimacy. I worked in other capacities until he decided to promote me into the house ranks. He acted quite gentle with me. Now that he is married he only visits me on occasion.”

  “My cousin is a good man although I need to speak to him about the beatings you… wait, if he beds you then surely he sees your scars?”

  Alasdaire simply stared at me. His intense gaze registered so many emotions he nearly defeated my reason. I sighed and shook my head. “Well, we have plenty of time to talk further. Now I need my bath.”

  “Please, my Prince, do not defend me to him. I do not want to….”

  “I want to and there’s an end to it.”

  A soft sigh answered me, and then fingers fussed with my vest. “As you wish. Now let me undress you, my Prince.”

  Why not? I allowed Alasdaire to banish my clothing, neatly placing my vest on the chair. His fingers worked at my shirt buttons and a startled gasp bro
ke from him. Fingertips touched my flesh. “You display the Serpent scales!”

  “Are you surprised?”

  He shrugged but I felt tension dance through his body. “You are the Prince so no, I should not feel surprised. Long ago the Order of the Serpent destroyed us and of course your royal house is descended from the Order.”

  I hated my question but needed to ask it. So far this troubled male owned numerous reasons to harm me. “Do you feel the need to injure me?”

  A piercing stare met my inquiry; then gentle lips leaned up and captured mine. “No, my Prince, since you offer me kindness and respect. Also you are not my Father.” Another kiss led to a long, sweet interlude. We embraced, cane to scales, hands caressing hair. Alasdaire drew back and peeled off my trousers. His fingers wandered down my stomach. “You are an impressive man, my Prince.”

  “Thank you, beauty. Wait, I wish to see you.”

  Alasdaire smiled in sultry pleasure and dropped his silken robe. Yes, seeing his canes in full majesty looked wonderful. The delicate swirls began at Alasdaire’s left temple, fluttered down his cheek to his chin before swirling around his neck and curling in serpentine abandon across his torso and down his left leg. His toned body looked more muscular than I expected, broader across his waist and chest. Even his burnished skin appeared magically enhanced. I stroked his shoulder and smiled in appreciation. His skin felt soft, almost satiny to the touch. “How could anyone mock you?”

  “Because they don’t see what you do, dear Prince. They see a victim. You do not.” Alasdaire suddenly licked my jaw, descending down, his tongue rapidly defining my chest scales. He dropped to his knees and licked my cock.

  My fingers gently tugged on his wavy mane. “Alasdaire, no, there is no need for you to….”

  The lovely half Elf’s words breathed against my eager flesh. “I want this honor, my Prince.”

  Why deny the pleasure?

  I succumbed to his warm talent.

  Alasdaire

  Seduction

  I needed to work quickly. If I captured this powerful Prince’s essence, possible freedom awaited me! How glorious. If I bound mighty Linden to me, then I’d flee this wretched life. Careful, slow, I needed to act in strict rhythm. I remembered Mother’s simple spell to compel a human. Semen and blood. Her own ritual allowed her to escape from her dying empire. Too bad the effect did not last and, even worse, poor Mother selected an unfaithful human scum not worth her precious love. She should have never trusted him, never. I hated how his blood flowed in my veins. Hated it. If some clever scientist created a way to banish Father’s molecular structure from my flesh, I would risk all for the solution.

  No, bleak memories needed to vanish from my mind. Concentrating on immediate seduction mattered above all. In truth being this Prince’s lover suited me. Prince Linden acted noble and compassionate. He looked old enough to know wisdom, yet not old enough to want to devour, conquer, or punish my youth. He spoke to me kindly; indeed, he allowed me to act rudely toward him without inflicting punishment. He let me sit with him and share his meal. The man who could rule the country treated this Halfling slave with gentle compassion. Today I understood why everyone spoke of Linden in reverent tones.

  I wanted him. I needed Linden. The Prince offered me a dazzling opportunity to be free. Aside from the wretched King, only he could demand removal of the vile Torvine Catch from my frightened body. Imagine, he might own the ability to remove it; I had heard gossip Linden possessed special Serpent powers equal to his older brother’s. My heart knew I needed this man descended from the monsters who destroyed my race.

  I slowly licked his thick cock. My handsome Prince tasted so dominant. My fingers danced over his firm flesh. There, kneading sensitive areas excited him. My fingers slid down to massage his soft bollocks. His pleased gasp told me I traveled the correct path for him. Dare I travel deeper? Why not? My fingers carefully massaged around his puckered opening, teased—there, another sharp gasp followed. His hands caressed my hair. I pleased him! Exhilarating to know this Prince would not beat me for failure. He possessed enough pure virility to enhance our experience together.

  My own pleasure at enjoying a man’s willing body captivated my emotions. When I felt the Prince tremble and tense in desire, I easily caught his potent flow in my throat. Yes, I performed part of the ritual. Now to carefully collect his blood to complete my bid toward freedom. I needed a mere drop. My own passion flooded free. Careful, there, my pointer fingernail lightly lanced into his quivering thigh. My glance told me I struck deeply enough to draw blood. His body jerked back from me. No, wait! Stay. I licked up, and there, rich coppery essence met my seeking tongue. My lips nursed the tiny wound in gentle soothing. Good, my Prince appeared mollified. I sank back on my knees and shook back my hair. I made sure I smiled like the consuming sun, but I wondered why no magic flared between us? Did I perform the incorrect spell? “Forgive me for pricking you, my Prince.”

  Prince Linden smiled at me in mocking dismissal. “Ah, so one of your canes pricked me, eh? Please, young one, if I let such a little scratch bother me I’d endure an unhappy time in battle. As you can see my tough old hide suffers from numerous direct hits.” He patted the colorful scars carved into his flesh.

  “Nonsense. The scars tell me you are an extremely brave warrior.” I slithered up against him, kissing his flesh, including those repulsive scales. Touching them offered me the only displeasure in adoring the Prince’s body. Too bad. If I planned on remaining with him then I must accept the scales. I regarded them as wicked scars declaring his brutal, twisted heritage. Yet I sensed this intriguing man escaped the perverted royal mindset. He was entirely too rational and compassionate to be a true Serpent heir. Did his mother take a lover and ruin the bloodline? Fascinating! I remembered his mother was a first cousin to his father, so she also carried the royal blood. Did she ensure the scale’s continuation?

  My mind needed to banish such silly distractions. I ended my tour of his body by leaning up and kissing his smiling lips. “Now, my Prince, let’s get you into the bath before it turns cold.”

  “My thoughts exactly, Alasdaire. You need to join me so you can properly scrub my back.” He winked at me in sexy play.

  I smiled and nodded in agreement. Did my ritual already make him want me? Joy filled me. No, calm down. Act sensible. We positioned our bodies in the deep tub. My back rested against the cool porcelain. My Prince settled before me and leaned into me.

  My fingers massaged the Prince’s chest muscles. By the Canes, the hard scales infecting his warm skin felt worse than touching dead flesh. Still, I embraced him close to my body. To my surprise Linden relaxed and allowed me to wash him as if I washed a willing child. His display of trust told me his comfort level. He trusted me not to harm him. What a wonderful man.

  I ran the sponge across his lean torso, down, lower until I reached his taut thighs. “I cannot reach further, my Prince.”

  “I believe my knees are clean. Your massage against my chest felt marvelous. Can you offer my old back the same consideration?”

  “Absolutely, my Prince. Well, I do not consider your back old. Your body is most pleasing to the eye.”

  “Ah, so you do own an impulse to flattery.”

  What? “I speak the truth, not merely to flatter you, Prince.” Stop. I sounded so haughty!

  “Then I thank you, my beauty. Now let’s maneuver into a proper position.” I slid back, rose to my knees and began kneading my Prince’s upper back muscles. He groaned in delight. Excellent. I continued working my fingers into his powerful muscles. Obviously years of fighting developed his back muscles into steely force; he appeared thin but his back felt so capable. I imagined Linden fighting and decided he looked magnificent swinging his long sword. He probably slashed with one hand while he shot his rapid fire gun with the other. Heroic and deadly. I had viewed only still photos of the victorious battles, but even then I sensed his prowess.

  My fingers dug deeper into his flesh until they autom
atically located the various knots and tension. His muscles felt stiff. The poor man needed to relax before his tension crippled him. My Prince’s low moan told me I had found the correct spot to heal.

  “Alasdaire, yes, drop a little lower. There, work that bit as hard as possible. That spot has felt tense ever since the war’s end. Marvelous. No one else has cured that nagging little tension, not even my personal masseuse. You are wonderful. So talented.”

  What hopeful news. I smiled in proud delight. Lately Lord Keith enjoyed my massages more than my other sensual services. When he realized my potential, Keith brought in a Hildian massage expert to assist me in my learning. My innate sense of pain and pleasure helped guide my fingers in extra healing.

  I almost commented that if he took me with him, then Prince Linden could enjoy a relaxing experience every day, but I felt my words sounded too forced. Instead I displayed my fingers’ skills, not my all too quick verbal skills. True, Linden desired casual entertainment, but anyone could provide flowery speech. Words meant little. I knew how to conquer aches and other ailments. Gentle healing flowed into my fingers. The forbidden act made me feel sluggish but I sensed the Prince needed my special healing. If anyone discovered I used my natural Totandian abilities, I would be punished. As it was I drew too much attention to myself just….