Owned by Luna Voss
19
Melyta
Barion knotting my ass to enforce his dominance might not be very effective as a punishment, but it sure does bring out a submissive side in me. And that serves me well, because he makes good on his promise to start being stricter. Now, at least when we’re at home, my first warning for misbehavior is being told to go upstairs and put in my butt plug. Then when I come back to him, blushing, he makes me bend over and checks to make sure that I’m wearing it. The whole thing is really quite humbling.
When we’re out of the house, though, the way he enforces discipline is more varied. Sometimes, for something minor, I just get a swat on the ass, right there in front of whoever might be watching. That’s usually enough to remind me that I don’t want to make things worse for myself. And although it hasn’t happened yet since our experience at the mall, I have no doubt that if I really crossed the line, he wouldn’t hesitate to take me somewhere semi-private and spank me in public again. In a weird way, it’s reassuring to know that my man isn’t going to put up with any bullshit. I guess that’s why he’s effective as a vostrat.
For my part, I find myself finally starting to adjust to my new life. It still doesn’t feel solid yet. It won’t be solid until I go into heat and Barion marks my neck again. But it feels right, and that in itself is a tremendous weight off my shoulders. The deeper I find myself delving into Vostra culture, the more at home it makes me feel. Soon, maybe I’ll even think of it as my culture.
“Babe, we’re going to be late!” I call out to Barion as I wait by the door. I’m already dressed and ready to go, my makeup perfect and my brand-new dress absurdly expensive.
“Coming, vulta!” he calls from the other room.
A moment later, he emerges wearing the new suit I helped him pick out yesterday. He looks just as dashing as he did in the dressing room.
“You look good,” I tell him, standing on tiptoes and giving him a kiss.
“So do you,” he replies, putting his hands on my waist and extending the kiss for several extra seconds.
“Come on,” I say, taking his hand. “We really do have to go.”
Somehow, we’ve already gotten to the point where I’m more on top of our social calendar than he is. It’s not that he doesn’t care, I think he just trusts me to handle it. Which means something, considering how important appearances are in the Vostra. It’s a responsibility I take seriously.
We’re going to some big Vostra ball tonight. I worked a couple of these for the various Vostra Families in Dalax City at my old job, but this is my first time attending as a guest. And in all honesty, I’m excited. How many times did I look with jealousy on these beautiful, well-dressed women with their dominant gangster husbands? And now I get to be one of them.
We arrive at just the perfect time: slightly late, but not too late. The right way for the Family’s underboss to make an appearance. I can’t help but be filled with pride as we walk into the venue together arm-in-arm. Barion is one of the most important men here, and I happen to know that prior to this, he was considered a very eligible bachelor. That probably explains the hostile looks I’m getting from some of the younger, single women.
“Am I imagining it, or do these women look like they hate me?” I whisper to him, somewhat nervously.
“Fuck ‘em,” he whispers back. “The moment you have my mark on your neck, you’ll outrank all of them put together.”
My nervousness to show my face at Vostra gatherings is mostly gone at this point. Gurtion is still wasting away in the hospital, and no one else in the Dultaz Family knows who I am. Moreover, that whole incident seems to be fading into memory. It’s been over a month since I heard a word about it from Barion.
Still, a part of me can’t help but worry. This is the biggest and most public event Barion and I have been to together so far. Is it possible that some random vostrat could recognize me from the restaurant? The most reassuring thing to me is that nothing would probably come of it. Barion has far too much status and influence here not to crush anyone making random accusations against his mate.
So I bury my concerns and focus on enjoying the food. It’s pretty cool, being on this side of the table for once. What I’m used to is serving these dishes to other people, not eating them myself. Even when I was a waitress, it’s not like I could afford to actually eat at the restaurants I worked at.
“Where’s Sarizor?” I whisper to Barion. “Isn’t he supposed to be here?”
I’ll admit, I’ve been nervous about meeting the boss whose son almost made my life a living hell.
He shrugs. “Not here yet, I guess. He shows up when he wants to.”
Across the table, Korva glances at something over my shoulder. “Hey, there’s the old man.”
I resist the urge to turn and look, instead waiting for him to come and sit down.
“Barion,” says a gravelly voice, and a moment later a wiry old man takes his place at the head of the table. I do my best to examine his face without drawing attention. His visage is weathered, with deep creases around his eyes and mouth. He looks like someone who’s lived a lot of life.
“Sarizor,” says Barion, affecting a broad smile. “I’m so glad you made it. I don’t believe you’ve met my mate, Melyta?”
Sarizor looks me up and down, and I swear he seems suspicious. Why would he be suspicious?
“She’s your mate?” Sarizor asks, raising his eyebrows. “I don’t see a mark on her neck.”
“Well, soon-to-be-mate,” Barion corrects himself. “But she’s my vulta, and I’m going to mark her as soon as I can.”
The old man seems to think for a moment, and then nods. “Well, congratulations! I’m happy for you, despite the unfortunate name.”
I look down. I know the name Melyta is common enough not to make anyone suspicious, but it still feels awkward that he brought it up. I pick at my food, pretending not to notice.
The man next to Sarizor, a very large vostrat with a scar on his face, stays quiet and impassive throughout this whole exchange, giving only a tight-lipped smile to Barion at the mention of us being mated. Something about him feels off, as though he’s the only person here not interested in having fun. I catch Korva’s attention as Barion, Sarizor, and some other high-level Vostra guys begin a conversation, and he leans in to hear what I have to say.
“Who’s that?” I ask, glancing at the man next to Sarizor.
“That’s Nullion,” Korva whispers back. “He’s like… Sarizor’s enforcer. And his bodyguard, sometimes. Nullion does the dirty work that no one else wants to do. Outside the command structure.”
I gulp. I’m pretty sure I remember Barion mentioning him, now that I think about it. I don’t think Barion likes him very much. Frankly, neither do I, even though we haven’t spoken. His entire demeanor gives me the creeps.
There’s a small commotion on the other side of the room. I look, and see one of the Vostra guys at another table leading his mate out of the dining area, his hand on her upper arm. Her face is flushed, and I can tell just as clearly as everyone else that she’s about to receive a spanking. I find myself laughing inwardly. For the first time in my life, I can relate. I wonder what she did to get herself disciplined at an event like this.
Then my eyes land on the waiter standing behind them, and instantly it’s like I have ice water dribbling down my neck. I recognize that waiter.
It’s Henry. My old coworker at the Rusty ship, the one who Gurtion shot. And even worse, he recognizes me. I can tell by his expression. All I can do is hope he knows better than to go up and say hi.
Fuck. He’s coming over to me. Fuck fuck fuck. What do I do? He knows who I am. He could literally spoil this whole thing.
“Melyta?” I hear him say. “Melyta, is that you?”
I jump up from my seat and quickly head him off, leading him over to the corner of the room, away from other people.
“Henry, how’s it going? It looks like your arm is better?”
He looks confused. “Yeah, much better. I wanted to thank you for helping me. What happened to you? I never saw you at the restaurant again. You’re…” He lowers his voice. “You’re dating a vostrat now?”
“Yeah, long story. Look, it’s really important that you pretend you don’t know me, okay?”
Henry frowns. “I think that’s going to be a hard thing to fake. They can all see you talking to me.”
“Okay, you’re right. We know each other, but only a little bit, and we definitely never worked together at a bar or restaurant. Got it?”
Henry still looks confused, but he nods. “… Okay. Whatever you say. Do I have to pretend your name isn’t Melyta or something?”
“No, Melyta is fine,” I say, raising my voice as a couple walks close to us. “Anyway, it was great to see you again!”
I return to Barion, feeling stressed. As I sit down, Nullion gives me a long, suspicious look before turning his attention back to his food.
* * *
Barion
I swear Melyta is so fucking pretty. This whole night, I haven’t been able to take my eyes off her. Being able to show her off to everyone like this feels amazing.
Sure, I could tell she was a little nervous coming here. It’s her first time at a big Vostra gathering as my partner, after all. But I wouldn’t have brought her here if I thought it was a risk. I’ve done my diligence. No one in the Dultaz family knows what Melyta Bartryz looks like.
She’ll be Melyta Dultaz soon.
The thought of bringing her here as my mate, with my mark on her neck, fills me with pride. It also makes my cock hard, which, let’s be honest, I’m hard half the time I’m around her, anyway. She has such a strong fucking effect on me. I can’t wait to get her home and see that look she gets on her face when I first thrust myself inside her.
Having her with me is almost enough to make me forget how much I hate being around Nullion. Out of all the criminals in this room, there’s no doubt in my mind that he’s the one who enjoys committing violence the most. We all do what we have to do, but for most of us, having to hurt people is just an occasional, unhappy side effect of our way of life. To Nullion, it’s the whole point. His proclivities give an outlet to Sarizor’s worst impulses.
I catch Melyta’s eye and she forces a smile. I wink, wanting to reassure her, but she still looks nervous. Trying again, I take her hand and squeeze it. It’s important to me that she’s happy tonight.
Melyta starts to relax somewhat as I put an arm around her, and we share a dessert together. My vulta seems be enjoying the food, at least. Everything we’re eating comes from a famed local delicatessen, the kind people come to Dalax City from all over Tarsheb 8 to visit.
“This is good, isn’t it?” I remark.
“Yeah,” she says, although I can tell she still isn’t entirely at ease.
After dessert, Sarizor stands up and clinks a fork on his glass repeatedly to get everyone’s attention.
“Thank you all so much for coming,” he says, a warmth in his voice that I rarely hear. “You honor the Dultaz Family with your presence. And me personally. It means the world to me to see all of your faces here tonight.”
I nod along, unsure where this is going. Even during his public appearances, it’s rare to see Sarizor so friendly.
“In fact, we have a reason to celebrate tonight,” the boss continues. “A great reason. One that I’ve desired for some time.”
The silence that follows is pregnant, as the entire room waits for his next words. Everyone here knows that Sarizor’s palpable excitement is unusual. Even Melyta looks surprised.
“As many of you know, several months ago my son Gurtion was the victim of a shameful attack,” announces the boss. “Our enemies left him for dead.” The room echoes with angry murmurs, although I would guess at least half of them are inauthentic. No one actually liked Gurtion. Sarizor stands up taller now, his chest puffing out with pride. “Tonight, I tell you that our enemies have failed. I just received word from the hospital that Gurtion will be revived from his coma within the coming week. He’s expected to make a full recovery.”
More silence greets this announcement, and then, like a gathering storm, every Voorian in the room begins to cheer and applaud, the noise growing louder and louder until it reaches a frenzy. Sarizor opens his mouth, extends his fangs, and adds a guttural roar to the cacophony, basking in his clan’s adoration.
I turn to Melyta next to me and see that her face has turned pale. She stares back at me, pretending to clap, fear in her eyes.
