Warlord and the Waif by Chloe Parker

CHAPTER TWENTY

ELLA

I SIT IN my room for hours, waiting until the household goes to sleep.

I don’t know what to wear; something nice? My blue dress is torn, and I’ll need to mend it before I can wear it again. I could wear my nightdress, as I’ve noticed Calder’s eyes when I’m wearing it. It’s so thin, I’m sure he’s already seen everything more than a few times.

And then I remember his words from a few days ago, when I sat on his bed, unsure of whether or not I wanted him.

“I don’t want you going anywhere until I’ve had a chance to undress you lace by lace.”

I put my chemise and bodice back on, lacing myself up with shaking fingers. The trembling isn’t from fear; it’s from anticipation. Ever since he ushered me back up to the servants’ quarters after our tryst in the kitchen, all I can think about is his dick, the way he palmed my breasts as he fucked me, the way he teased at my lips, his hands, his mouth—

I’ve never been all that interested in sex. It’s fine, I guess. But I didn’t get the appeal when I ran with a free love crowd in ’65.

Now? It’s driving me mad.

My heart is in my throat when I make my way down the corridor, clutching my skirts around me. Every motion aches deliciously at my center, still sensitive from Calder’s ministrations. I start to get wet at the prospect of being in his bed soon, and at the press of my thighs together.

I ready myself to leap into his arms as I make my way to the residential wing of the castle, still shaking, making my way in the dark. I can see the lights of the passing maintenance bots, and there shouldn’t be anyone else walking the halls this late at night.

That’s why I’m taken by surprise when I bump into something humanoid. I recoil, and the thing I’ve bumped into makes a disgruntled sound in a high voice. I pray that it’s Portia, but it doesn’t sound much like her. Then a low laugh sounds from just opposite me, and I manage to make out a pair of pitch black eyes in a white face.

“Pretty little creature, roaming the halls at night.”

Ioni.

“Seems like I’m not the only one,” I say. “Why don’t you have a light?”

“My people can see in the dark,” she says. “We have no need for lights. And besides, I’m more interested in what you’re doing here.”

“My duties,” I lie.

“And what duties might those be?”

I gulp, and in the low light of the hallway I just barely see Ioni’s face twist in a smirk.

“I was going to the kitchen to make sure all of my tasks were complete.”

“Yes, you did get somewhat…waylaid, didn’t you?” she says. “I hope he punished you?”

Now I’m trembling from fear.

There’s something predatory about the way these creatures move, and their black eyes have left me unsettled all night. And this one in particular has it out for me since I raised my hand against her.

I should be wary, but it goes against everything in me not to talk back to her.

“Yes, he punished me,” I confirm, bowing my head.

“Look at me when I speak to you.” Ioni tilts my head back up with her fingertip on my chin, and I inhale sharply in fear.

“Sorry,” I mutter.

“Primitive, whimpering creature,” she scoffs, and I feel that familiar flare of rage building in my chest. I want to slap her. I’ve wanted to for hours. She’s so small and fragile, and I know I could take her.

But the logical side of me says that’s a very silly idea, and that appearances can be deceiving.

“You tell me you have duties in the kitchen, but I believe that’s a lie,” she continues, “And it is my firm belief that handmaidens who wander the halls at night should be punished. Perhaps a firmer hand is needed.”

I vacillate between fear and anger.

I’m shaking, my fists clenched at my sides, when Ioni jerks her head to the side and I see the hallway lit with a glow lamp toward Calder’s rooms. I don’t dare hope that I’m rescued, but then I see his hulking form behind the lamp, clad in his black cloak, his antlers silhouetted in the dim hallway.

I take a breath of relief and Ioni glances back to me with narrowed eyes.

“Ella, you should be in your room,” he warns.

I wince.

He’s just caught me in a lie.

“So there were no late night duties after all,” Ioni smirks. “I found your human wandering the hallways, Warden.”

He steps toward us, his eyes trailing over my clothes, and I catch a hint of approval as his gaze pauses on my bodice.

“You must learn to obey,” he growls, looming over me. All I feel is a thrill of excitement at his tone, at his proximity, at the heady, spicy smell of soap and salve rolling off him.

“Well?” Ioni says, like we’ve forgotten her.

I almost had.

“You’ll need to be disciplined,” he murmurs.

Holding the glow lamp in his other hand, he grabs me roughly by the arm, and the cry of pain that slips from my lips is real. Ioni smiles in satisfaction as Calder pulls me toward him.

“You’ll need to see yourself to bed, Magister,” he says. “I have business to attend to.”

Ioni buys it. She doesn’t put up a fuss.

I almost laugh at how gullible this supposedly omnipotent being is.

She’s sending me exactly where I wanted to go.