Evil Twin by Kati Wilde

5

Echo

She was a weak,sentimental fool.

And General Bane had completely ruined another plan. All because he’d choked her father.

Echo ought to have been on her way to Crolum alone. But she’d been so overwhelmed by Bane’s defense of her, she’d thrown aside her intent to paralyze him with the kiss at the end of the ceremony—and leaving him behind, free to pursue Sapphira, if he wished. Instead she sat at his side in a carriage as it rattled through the streets.

Apparently King Tamas had given them the very worst of his carriages, with springs akin to torture devices. Instead of cushioning them from every bump in the road, they were jostled and bounced. It all seemed like a very bad dream, but her head ached far too much for this to be anything except reality.

She was married to a man who loved her sister.

But she couldn’t get away. Sealing their vows only required that their hands lay palm to palm, but after Echo had tried to unwind the ribbon, he’d entwined their fingers and hadn’t yet let go.

As if he wanted to hold onto her. But she was no fool. Most likely, he meant to pretend that he’d married Sapphira and make the best of it.

With his foot, he nudged the basket on the floor. “Hungry?”

Starving. But she could not risk eating until she washed her lips.

Bane appeared to be starving, too. And also thinking of her lips. Then his gaze dropped, to where the jolting of the carriage threatened to bounce her breasts out of the low-cut absurdity of a wedding gown that her mother had taken from her sister’s wardrobe and forced Echo to wear. Despite the snug fit of the bodice, another little jiggle and her nipples would make a royal appearance.

How did Sapphira even breathe in these things? Dresses like this would be outlawed in Crolum. Loose outfits only. Anything this tight was more akin to a murder weapon than clothing.

Although…

She stole a glance at Bane’s thighs, encased in worn leather that fit like a second skin. Tight, but also buttery soft against her knuckles when the jostling of the carriage bumped the back of her beribboned hand against his leg.

But the leather was the only soft thing on his body, encasing muscles that were clearly defined, even at rest. And those muscles were thick. So thick. As all of him was. His body held not even a spare bit of fat—but instead of running lean, his form was built on a massive scale. When she’d been beneath him, clamping her knees to his sides to urge him between her thighs, there’d been a breathless, shocking moment as she’d realized how widely she had to spread and how utterly open to him she was.

His cock was built on the same massive scale. Afterward, when he’d knelt on the bed at her side, flaccid and stained with her virgin’s blood, she’d been stunned by the heavy hang of flesh. The length of it, the heft.

Yet that thickness was nothing to when he’d been aroused. Or when he was inside her. Brutal, at first, just as she’d asked. Then tender, waiting for her pain to pass. Waiting for her to adjust to that thickness, that length, that strength—before finally fucking her. And as the end had neared, he’d pounded into her like a battering ram, but in the very best way that a battering ram could be.

She could still feel him. In the lingering soreness that made itself known with every bounce on the cushioned bench. In the building ache between her legs as her gaze roamed over his thickly muscled thighs. And deep inside, where she’d been so full but now was…empty.

While Bane hungered after lips that were just like her twin’s. While he stared at the identical tits about to pop out of her sister’s dress.

Jaw clenched, she turned her face to gaze blindly out the carriage window.

Let him look. She was never letting him touch her again.

And why did he have to be so good? If he’d been a selfish bastard, Bane could have remained in Gocea and fought his brother for Sapphira’s hand. Why hadn’t he stayed?

Though she might be staring at the answer. Mounted warriors rode on either side of the carriage—and she recalled the dozens more waiting in the courtyard to escort them. Those hoofbeats sounded all around them.

With a lift of her chin, she gestured to the guards mounted outside her window. “Is your brother making certain that you leave the kingdom?”

“No. They’re leaving with us.”

“They’re loyal to you?” Though she didn’t know why she was surprised. Of course General Bane’s warriors would remain loyal to him. He could inspire loyalty in anyone.

Even her.

At his nod, she asked, “What if Gocea needs protection?”

“Then my brother will have to beg for Crolum’s assistance.”

His smug reply made her grin. His next question erased it.

“What is the rose chamber?”

“Why?” Her throat tightened. “Do you hope to keep me under control?”

“I want to know why it frightened you.”

“It doesn’t.”

“It does. You argued against marrying me. After your sister mentioned the rose chamber, you didn’t argue anymore.”

“I’d be a fool to tell you what it is.”

“You’d be a fool not to. If I don’t know what frightens you, I don’t know what I need to protect you from.”

How could she argue against goodness? She hated him. Hated him.

“It’s a chamber spelled to make me more complacent,” she said thickly. “It makes me feel as if my brains are stuffed full of wool. So it’s hard to think or plan.”

But not hard to feel. Beneath those muffled thoughts was the terror of knowing what had been done to her. What had been taken from her.

He was silent for so long she glanced toward him. A muscle was repeatedly clenching in his jaw. As if he struggled against anger—and she’d seen his jaw clenching in the same way the night before, as he’d listened to her family describe her cursed nature.

Finally he grated out, “How much time did you spend in that chamber?”

Years. “Too much.”

Until she learned to escape, even in that muffled state. Terror was a fine motivator.

“Why not kill them?”

No question who them was. She turned toward the window again and shrugged. “They do no harm to anyone in the kingdom. They also do no good. But they do no harm.”

“Except to you.”

“They feel justified. They’re protecting Phaira from my evil schemes.”

“That nonsense about omens?”

“A raven cried as the blood moon rose,” she intoned dramatically. “A wolf howled as I was born.”

“And they truly believed that made you evil? Was it based only on the omens or something you did afterward?”

“The omens. I am the firstborn twin, but I was never the heir. Not even as a babe.”

“A babe can do no harm.”

“My birthing cord was wrapped around Sapphira’s neck.”

“So you attempted to strangle her in the womb? Your evil schemes truly began early,” he said dryly.

“So they claimed. To them, it was proof that a darkness lived within me and my sole purpose was to kill the true heir.”

“Or perhaps you are a hero meant to rid your kingdom of the twin who should never rule it.”

Despite the pain of knowing he did not truly mean such a thing about her sister, Echo had to laugh.

His gaze searched her face. Looking for Sapphira? “Your sister believes it, as well?”

“As you saw.” Anger chased away Echo’s amusement. She hated that his preference for Sapphira hurt her. “Why? Do you think her nature too sweet and good to condemn me for such a foolish reason? Well, you are mistaken. Though Sapphira is nice, she is not kind—and she is an ignorant milk-blood in the bargain.”

His reaction was not at all that she expected. Rather than angrily defending Sapphira—as he had when her father had insulted her—Bane grinned. “She is still latched to your mother’s teat?”

“Her blood likely runs red,” Echo had to admit, “but there is not a thought in her head that my parents did not put there. It is a different sort of suckling dependence.”

“And she is nice but not kind? Tell me the difference.”

So he could mount a defense of her twin’s character? Echo had no wish to hear it. “I don’t want to speak of Sapphira any longer.”

“We’re not speaking of her. We are speaking of the difference between nice and kind.”

Frustration clipped her voice. “It is simple. Kindness is for the comfort of others, and requires that someone does what is right. Niceness is for the comfort of oneself, and lets someone do what is easy.”

“That’s not simple. Explain.”

So they’d speak of Sapphira after all. “My sister is only nice for her own sake, so that the people she meets are impressed by her sweetness and she can claim that she treats everyone well—not because she truly cares about how that person feels. She would let atrocities pass by uncriticized so that even a monster might think well of her. If Geofry the Child-Eater were still alive, she would be nice to him.”

“Not merely polite to him out of fear?”

“No. She would be welcoming so that people can say she is fair. That she treats everyone the same no matter who they are or what they’ve done. And if she invited someone who suffered under the Child-Eater’s rule into the same room, she would be nice to them as well—never understanding that her welcoming that tyrant with a smile must be so incredibly hurtful to them.” She drew a deep breath, calming her tone. “Also it is easier to be nice, to let cruelty pass by unchallenged. It is easier to smile at everyone than to take someone to task or to enforce consequences for their behavior.”

“But for someone to be kind, they must expose and denounce what is cruel—and refuse to let the abuse continue,” he said with deliberation, following what she’d said of niceness to its logical conclusion. “In the face of suffering, someone who is truly kind must take sides.”

He understood, then. But Echo knew he would. Never would General Bane leave cruelty unchallenged.

“Just so,” she said quietly.

“Your sister did not take your side. But she was also not nice to you.”

“Yes, well—Sapphira’s niceness ends at a threat to her position and her own comfort. And I am a threat. But you notice she justifies her treatment of me by claiming to protect others from my scheming or by pretending to care for them. ‘Oh, the poor guards! What have you done to them, you cursed slut?’” She mocked Sapphira’s reaction of the night before. “But she will never seek out the guards or discover for herself how they fare, because she doesn’t truly care about them. She only asked for the benefit of those in the room with us, so your brother would think she cared. And she did it for the same reason that she is nice to begin with: she wants people to think well of her. Did you check on the guards?”

“I did.”

Echo knew he would. “And they were not harmed.”

“The worst they seemed to suffer was embarrassment,” Bane agreed, his lips twitching—perhaps he’d heard one of them bleat. “And what of you, my queen? Are you nice?”

“I care little of what people think of me. So I am not.”

“Are you kind, then?”

“Only to those who deserve it.”

His dark gaze held hers. “And after all that we shared last night and this day, what would you say that I deserve?”

Everything that is good. But she didn’t say it aloud.

Then he stole her breath by raising her bound hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to the tips of her fingers. His gaze burned into hers.

“We have a long carriage ride,” he said, his voice deepening, “with not much to do.”

Her heart thundered. “I intend to sleep,” she whispered.

“Will you not change your plan? We left many inches left unkissed.” The touch of his mouth to her wrist sent a shiver over her skin. “Or if you wish to revisit the inches already kissed, I will happily spend the next hours with my head between your thighs.”

“I do not wish it.” She did not. And she hated the reason and hated him for making it hurt. “Why would I ever let you touch me again, knowing of your feelings for my sister?”

He frowned. “Your sister?”

“You hoped to marry her. Did you not?”

“I did. But—”

“And while inside me, you claimed to already be a fool in love. But I will not be a substitute for her.”

He stared at her. “You think I love your sister?”

“For what other reason would you have deceived your way into your brother’s bed, except to take the bride you love? But instead you were forced to marry me.”

“Forcedto marry you?” He barked out a laugh before crowding close and snaking his free arm around her waist.

She shrank back. “What are you doing?”

“Lifting you.”

And there was apparently nothing she could do about it. Echo kicked and struggled and pushed, but in a flurry of silver skirts and curses, she still found herself lifted and turned and locked into place—facing him, straddling those massive thighs with his arm wrapped around her waist and her beribboned hand pressed to his lips again.

She sneered into his face. “I still will not touch you.”

He grunted. It sounded like an absentminded agreement. As if he’d not even noticed her sneer or her declaration.

Likely because in the lifting and struggling, her tits had finally escaped and were happily bouncing and jiggling along with the carriage. And if he’d appeared hungry before, now he looked ravenous. And mesmerized.

“Bane,” she said sweetly.

His eyes were dazed when they met hers.

“Do you truly wish to kiss me?”

His focus cleared. “More than anything.”

“Even knowing what I am? Knowing the risk?”

“You are worth every risk, wife.”

That gruff response nearly undid her. Nearly. But best he learn now that she was not Sapphira. She would never be Sapphira.

“Go on, then,” she urged him softly. “Take what you wish.”

He wished for her mouth. Even as he dragged her closer by the arm around her waist, his lips covered hers—and she didn’t open to him, couldn’t open, even when his tongue traced the seam of her lips and she so badly wanted to let him in. And he wished for her cunt. With their bound hands, he shoved the bunched hem of her skirt up to her hip, exposing to the warm summer air the wet arousal already painting her inner thighs.

And then he stopped. His entire body frozen.

Silently she drew back, her gaze holding his. The fierce internal struggle that took hold of him was so clear to see.

“This is why I turned my cheek,” she told him quietly. “I meant to leave you after the ceremony. Perhaps I should have.”

A growl ripped from his chest. And in his eyes was reflected…panic? Worry?

She could at least assuage that. “Do not fear. The effect lasts but a few hours. And it will not kill you. It only prevents you from moving at will.” Though she could move him—as she would have to when extricating herself from the arm he’d locked around her. “But everything your body does to keep you alive is not affected. You’ll breathe and blink, your heart will beat and you’ll still experience any other involuntary…responses.”

She bit her lip. Because one involuntary response had made an earlier appearance and hadn’t yet softened. Between them, in the cradle of her own widespread thighs, the bulge of his erection strained against soft leather, the purpled crown extending above the waist despite the taut constriction of the laces.

It looked…painful. The angry color of his cock recalled the shade of her father’s face while being choked. But although Echo had rejoiced in that strangling, she didn’t want to hurt Bane. Or his prick.

“Should I loosen the laces?”

Gratitude joined the suddenly feral light in his eyes.

Carefully she unknotted the first lace. His erection did the rest, the pressure of his turgid shaft forcing the ties to slide through their eyelets, until his cock stood proudly between them, huge and thick and a bead of come decorating the tip.

Without thinking, Echo slicked her thumb over the drop. Oh, and the sound he made. A deep groan of arousal and pain. So desperately, she wanted to ease it for him. But she would not be a substitute—and she needed to escape before she was tempted into touching him again.

Heart pounding, she flexed her bound fingers against his where they were bunched in the skirts at her hip, then reached over with her free hand to pry his fingers from the fabric.

The need vanished from the sounds rumbling from his chest. Only a growl was left, dangerous and low and—

Oh.

She stopped tugging at the ribbon and stared at his hand.

At the fingers that ended in claws.

Oh.

Her gaze lifted to his. That feral light was still there, burning brighter. But also she glimpsed something…vulnerable? Surely that couldn’t be. She lifted trembling fingers to his mouth, pushed gently at his upper lip.

Fangs.

“Oh,” she breathed in wonder. “I’d heard rumors that some of the warriors who fought the undying scourge had been changed by the venom. But it is not a full change, is it? Not at all.”

And involuntary. Like breathing. Except he breathed all the time. But he didn’t have fangs all the time. So it must be more like…an erection. A response to an emotion.

But a response to what emotion?

She recalled the vulnerability she’d glimpsed.

Because she’d left him paralyzed and helpless. Unable to defend himself. So his defenses had appeared, unbidden.

“You’re safe,” she told him, though he likely wasn’t reassured by that since his fangs didn’t vanish. And now she recalled more. “When your brother said you were a problem to solve, did he mean this? This is why he didn’t want you to remain in Gocea?”

A soft growl answered her. Another unbidden response, since he couldn’t speak under the effect of the poison. Just as he couldn’t stop such involuntary responses like that growl.

She interpreted the growl as meaning that he hated his brother. With good reason. “It only proves that Tamas is a fool. Already you were a powerful warrior. But now, if you are even stronger, to have such as you protecting the kingdom…” She couldn’t fathom not keeping Bane near instead of sending him away. “Does your brother think you are a danger to him? But you always could have been, because you are no less dangerous with a sword than you are with fangs. Does he think you are a danger to his people? But you only would be if you cannot control this—and you must be able to. Most of the time.”

Just as he could not control the other involuntary response. And she could not control her own, the slickness gathering between her thighs, or the way her gaze was drawn between them, to where he was long and thick and swollen with need.

More moisture gathered at the tip and she licked her lips, remembering how the previous night she’d been prepared to use her mouth all over him. While planning it, tasting him had merely been a task she was prepared to perform to reach her goal. Yet now, oh now. She hungered for it. She needed to know if Bane would feel as she had when his tongue was upon her, licking and licking her clit. Her arousal had glistened all over his lips when he’d finished. And when he’d kissed her, she’d tasted—

Oh no.

In a panic she attempted to rise—but froze halfway, with his arm still around her back and her thighs open wide over his lap and her face almost even with his. Laughter shook silently though his chest because he must have seen what she’d done.

She’d licked her lips.

And now she was stuck. Stuck! Just as he was. But in a worse position, because he was sitting on the bench with his feet braced on the floor, while she’d been frozen in the middle of rising over him, supported by her knees but unbalanced, so the jolting of the carriage was tossing her from side to side when it wasn’t making her sway back and forth. If not for the cage of his arm around her waist, she would have already tipped onto the floor.

Backward. With her skirts over her head and tits flopping out. Just lying there with her knees bent and legs widespread.

For hours.

Her involuntary giggles joined the silent quake of his laughter. Until the jostling of the carriage stole her breath on a gasp.

Because she’d felt him. For an instant, as she’d swayed. The hot slide of his cock between her wide-open thighs.

His laughter vanished. A flush rose over his sun-darkened skin. His eyes burned into hers.

Did she pray for the next rut in the road? She did she did she did. The carriage bounced and there he was, right where she needed him—at her entrance. But it wasn’t enough, wouldn’t be enough. She remembered how he’d had to grunt and shove to get into her, his massive column of flesh invading a much smaller channel.

Then she swayed forward again and he was gone. A choked sound erupted from his throat. She was shaking, shaking all over, her nipples throbbing as her breasts jiggled with every jolt back, forward, every direction but the one she so needed.

Another hard bounce shoved her back and then his cock was there, inside her. Barely. Just the crown, stretching her entrance. Her desperate whine filled the carriage. His chest rose on ragged heaves.

And she’d never seen anything like Bane’s eyes. Near glowing as they held hers. As the next jolt pushed him a little deeper. Then came smooth road, with her trembling over him. With her arousal wetting the insides of her thighs. No doubt he could feel it. Joined as they were, her need must be dripping down the length of his shaft—easing the way for every small swaying motion to push her down instead of up over that thick bulbous crown, which proved to be as hard to get out of her as it was to get in.

The carriage lurched as if they’d rolled over a log, and she lurched with it—up and down and suddenly she was full, stuffed full, so deep.

Then nothing. Smooth road again, with a little jostling, a little rattling, but she needed something more and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry—except she could see that Bane felt the same, and as the tension rose and rose and rose within her, the only sanity was knowing he was there with her. Until just a little bump, perhaps no more than a pebble, sent her flying over with her inner walls clenching and a scream riding up her throat.

Eyes wild, teeth clamped, Bane shook as her sheath gripped him tighter, tighter until he grunted and a violent shudder wracked his big body. His heavy length pulsed inside her cunt, sending waves of pleasure through her flesh as he grunted again and filled her with seed.

Overfilled her. New slickness slid down her inner thighs, and they were both panting and sweating when the tension finally released.

Slowly her breaths eased. His gaze likely mirrored hers—heavy-lidded, replete. As if he were just as near to falling asleep. Only a few hours until the poison wore off and they could move again. But at this moment she didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Another jolt made her sway against him. The carriage began to rattle and vibrate.

A cobblestone street.

Glowing again with a feral light, Bane met her eyes. Her laughter dissolved into a moan when the heavy shaft within her stiffened.

Only a few hours.

She hoped for rough roads.