Page 4 of Mastering their Maiden
Quade.
I’m sending more men to camp close to the village. You can make contact with them through that man who lives in the hut about a half mile northeast. They will bolster your troops against Ryne’s, who I don’t believe want to fight, but they will if they think it will get them a reward. Draven and I have been in touch. He’s readying the other masters for our return, but I cannot move until Esme delivers, which could happen any hour. As soon as my babe has taken his breath and I can guarantee their safety, we will ride to meet you. This will end, my friend, and it will end in victory for us and the Kavari as a whole.
There was another note scrawled at the bottom of the parchment. Small, neat handwriting. Sweet.
And the words written there had become the bane of my existence.
Please, Master Kaiden, look out for my Aria. I miss her terribly.
I’d met Quade, Lavan, and Viggo’s maiden twice. Once back in Magilin after she’d almost been whipped on Ryne’s orders, and again at the large encampment Quade, Klev, and their men made in the ruins of our old city far to the north. They’d been forced to abscond there after Ryne attempted to murder Quade and had soldiers attack Lavan and Viggo in his own palace. Lady Indre had also been attacked by an informant Ryne had placed in Quade’s house, and with the forces of the palace moving against their houses, they were forced to flee or fight. They chose to flee.
This might seem cowardly to some, but neither Quade, nor any of the Kavari he fled with, were cowards. He was calculating, intelligent, and fiercely protective of his partners, his squadrons, his maiden, and his people as a whole. The man was more fit for that vile throne than I would ever be, but he did not want to claim it. The plan was to have the bronze chair demolished and have a table erected in its place. A table where the masters of each squadron would sit and rule together, as it had been before Ryne. Before the cataclysm that almost destroyed our people. The cataclysm that almost killed my mother while I was in her belly. She survived, only for her and my fathers—my real fathers—to be slaughtered in the skirmish led by the man who raised me.
Ryne.
When I thought of that bastard, it was like being pricked by thousands of knives. I was torn because he took me in and kept me alive, but only to manipulate the rest of our tribe. My uncle Draven in particular, since he should have been my guardian. Ryne stole me away. Kept me as a pawn to control the others. I was an orphaned child—orphaned by his doing—and he only ever saw me as a political toy.
Since learning what had transpired, I wanted justice. I wanted vengeance. I wanted blood spilled for the lives lost because of Ryne’s deceit and his lust for a power he did not deserve to wield. I’d been planning a way to get it for over two years now, stretching my wings as much as I could without drawing attention. I did not need any distractions from my goal.
Especially distractions that came in the form of a disobedient girl I’d been asked to protect. One who was more stubborn than a mountain ox.
If Ryne was right about one thing, it was that our men sometimes became obsessed with their women and it crumbled their own discipline, so crazed with lust and desire they abandoned all other duties to sink their cocks between a woman’s thighs. I did not need that right now, nor did my men. This was not the time we should have been thinking about claiming a maiden to share and eventually father children on.
But gods…
Damn all the gods. The ones who existed when the world was formed and the ones who lay dormant in the woods. Damn them all, because I wanted this girl. I wanted her more than I wanted to breathe some days. And I knew I wasn’t the only one. Zander was brutish and wild, but his lust for Aria had driven him nearly mad over the last month. His hand was in his trousers more often than it wasn’t, and at night when he was restless, I heard him sneak out to sit under her window, where he stroked himself to the sound of her quiet breathing and sleepy sighs. He’d even gone so far as to stalk into her barracks, steal her clothing to catch his release, then return it to her, smiling as when she’d been forced to wear it around the village because she’d been denied access to the wash and had no other panties to wear.
I loved Zander, but I hadn’t been surprised at him losing his head.
I had, however, been surprised when Umber followed in his steps. His lust was softer, though. Far more calculated than Zander’s blatant desire. Umber knew about the loose slats in the fence, but instead of stopping Aria from leaving, he would prevent her from re-entering, asking why he should let someone so determined to put herself in danger.
Aria responded with a bribe: Umber’s silence, in exchange for a peek at her soft, full tits.
He’d agreed while I rolled my eyes, and he went as far as to offer her extra rations of fruits and grain from our supplies in exchange for a quick fondle. I’d watched Umber lick and tease her breasts while she closed her eyes and fought valiantly to deny how much she enjoyed the attention. Then she’d taken her supplies and gone straight to the houses of mothers with young children to drop off food and clothing. The rest of her supplies were taken to the women’s barracks. She kept none for herself.
Aria was striking to look at, selfless to a fault, and intent on defying every ordinance put into place to keep her safe because she hated my tribe with a passion that rivaled the flames of hell.
Which only made me want her more.
Seven lashes wasn’t nearly enough punishment. She defied every rule I’d established, used her wild mouth as a weapon, and was flippant no matter what type of punishment rained down on her. But it was the desire she stirred in me, with that reddish-blonde hair, those stormy blue eyes, and lips I wanted to kiss before I fucked the attitude out of her pretty mouth, that was her greatest crime. She needed a thousand lashes, but I’d had her ass bared to me enough now that I knew even that would do no good.
Because no belt or strike from a paddle would tame her. She craved the pain. Welcomed it gleefully. Discipline was the only affection she got regularly.
Little did she know that was about to change.
“Aria,” I said, winding the belt around my fist before setting it on my hip. “What are the rules of the village?”
“Do not leave through the fence, only through the gate, and no wandering in the woods.” Her voice was strong, no warble or waver, no hint of tears slipping from her eyes. It was fire and strength and a need for more.
“And why is that rule in place?”
“To keep us safe.”
“To keep you safe,” I repeated, raising my voice so Hoval, Micah, and the other Elders watching could hear. “Why should you respect the Elders who lead your village, and the Kavari masters who guard it?”
She said nothing, but her body went rigid. Her arms flexed, shoulders tightened, and when I unfurled the belt and struck her across the backside she actually flinched.
“Answer me, girl.”
