Unbound Enchantment (Unbreakable Force Book 1) (5 page)

14

Adaryn

A
aric turned to me, his eyes dark with smoldering anger. “What in blazes was that all about? Out of all the people at that party, you had to go and insult
Kingsley
? He's one of the magistrates of our city, and one of the more important people at this event, if not
the
most important. You . . . humiliated me.” His breath billowed out white in the lamp-lit air.

It was my turn to feel angry. “I humiliated
you
? Your friends are horrible! They insulted me and my people! I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, really, but they deserved no respect whatsoever, Aaric.”

Aaric sighed with exasperation, looking up at the sky. A light snow was falling, muffling the noise of the city. He didn't seem to notice the flakes falling on his face.

“Maybe I should sell you,” he said quietly. “I seem to be pretty bad at this whole master thing, and you can't bring yourself to even pretend to respect me or my wishes. I should sell you to someone who can handle you better.”

Aaric wanted to sell me? He couldn't! I thought of Miss Grace and of Kingsley, and I felt a ripple of fear. It seemed unbearably hot. The air seemed to shimmer and shift, and the world spun. I felt like I was falling, but then hands grabbed me and steadied me. Strong hands.

“Adaryn!” Aaric's breath tickled my ear. Did I hear a note of concern in his voice, or did I imagine it?

“I . . . don't feel well,” I said. “I'm feeling overwhelmed.” That much was true, and I didn't need to fake the tremor in my voice.

“You're overtaxed. You need to get some rest.” Aaric guided me down the steps of the hall to the street where a carriage waited. The cab driver opened the door for us but lifted his eyebrows with surprise when Aaric helped me in first. Aaric snapped, “My slave isn't feeling well. She won't be any use to me if she's hurt.”

The driver bobbed his head. “Quite right, sir, no offense meant, sir.”

Aaric gave him his home address, and we were off. The carriage seemed to catch every uneven cobblestone.

He sat next to me this time. I leaned against him for support, and he didn't object. He anxiously smoothed my hair back from my forehead.

“You don't have a fever, thank goodness,” he said. “You must be over excited from the party.”

My eyelids drooped with exhaustion. We rode in silence the rest of the way home. I was just drifting off when we arrived. Aaric helped me down from the carriage and into the house.

Passing the kitchen table, I stumbled, falling. Aaric caught and steadied me. He only hesitated a moment before scooping me up and carrying me upstairs. I felt like this should surprise me, but I was too tired to think much about it.

He gently laid me in bed and then retreated, closing the door behind him without speaking. My eyes closed with exhaustion, and I drifted.

15

Aaric

A
aric tiptoed back downstairs. “Hang it all,” he muttered to himself. “This whole slave ownership thing is a lot more hassle than I anticipated.”

Grabbing a glass out of the cupboard, he had to admit, he was getting used to having clean dishes all the time. It was rather pleasant. He filled the glass with water from a pitcher Adaryn had filled earlier, and went back upstairs.

He went to the linen closet and extracted an extra pillow and blanket. He held them awkwardly against his side with one arm while holding the glass with the other. It was with difficulty that he opened Adaryn's door, but he managed it after a moment.

The woman looked to be asleep, but when he stepped on a creaky floorboard, her eyes flickered open. She looked at him without speaking while he silently cursed the floorboard and walked over to her bedside.

He set the glass of water on her table and, spreading the extra blanket over her, slipped the pillow under the one she had. Good thing, he thought to himself. The one she had been using looked thin.

He stepped back a little, and they both looked at each other without speaking. The silence got uncomfortably long, and Aaric cleared his throat, feeling awkward.

“I got you some water,” he said, motioning to the table. Idiot, of course she saw the water!

“Let me know if you need anything else.” He turned to go, but she reached out and grabbed his hand.

He looked down at her, surprised. “Why are you doing this?” she asked. Her voice was quiet. So quiet that Aaric found himself kneeling at her side in order to hear her better.

“Why are you kind to me?”

Aaric shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. “I'm just doing what any owner would do, looking out for his slave.”

Adaryn shook her head. She still held his hand as she spoke. “You're not like the other Oppressors, Aaric. You . . . have a heart.”

Her hair smelled like pine, and her eyes glittered under long lashes. She smiled at him, and Aaric felt his pulse quicken.  His head moved closer, his lips drawing close to hers. It was with a great effort that he stopped himself. It shouldn't, couldn't be this way. He stood, releasing her hand.

“Get some rest,” he said stiffly. “I expect you to make a full recovery by morning.”

He left, shoving his confused feelings aside with irritation, not knowing the woman he left behind was feeling just as bewildered as he was.

16

Adaryn

D
awn was pale and cold through my bedroom window. I could tell by the light it was still quite early, but already I could hear the sound of the usual crowd outside. Did they ever sleep? I wondered irritably. I thought of my forest home and its people. They arose early, too, but it was without the shouting and pushing. We didn't feel a relentless need to rush about our business.

Aaric. My mind went back to the night before. I frowned. What did I think of him? Compared to the other Oppressors, he was good. I was sure of that. There had been times while with him that I could almost forget that I was collared and that he was the one who collared me. I reached up, lightly touching the thick leather and metal band around my neck, careful not to push too hard.

Yes, he had collared me, but why didn't he treat me like a slave? Not once had he used the collar against me. He certainly didn't appear to have any plans to release me though, and that was what confused me most. Why collar me at all, if not to force me into submissive servitude? And there was still the matter of last night. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought he nearly kissed me.

My heart did a little flip, and I scowled. I could admit that for an Oppressor, he was quite handsome, but I certainly couldn't afford to develop any real sort of relationship with my captor. Bertram had told me during one of my visits of instances where Oppressors might use their slaves for their own physical pleasure and needs. Aaric didn't
seem
like he would do that, but I didn't want to risk finding out. It could be a very dangerous thing to feel anything for him if I had any hope for future escape. I needed to keep my head clear and focused.

I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, then stood. I felt much better than I did the night before. I grimaced, thinking of the party. That night seemed bad enough to make anyone sick. I didn't know how Aaric could put up with such nonsense.

I'd gone to bed wearing the dress from last night. I discarded it now, trading it for my worn nomadic clothing. I had never given much thought to my attire before capture, but now they were quite dear to me, as they were all I had left of my past.

I walked over and shoved open my window to let in some air, allowing myself to grasp the magic for a moment. It hummed through my blood and heart. It was exhilarating. It was an exercise I'd done nearly every morning since being brought to Aaric's house. It helped me remember who I was. No shame of the magic, I told myself. Not ever. I summoned a spark of light and danced it across my fingers.

Occasionally some passerby would look up and gawk at me, but I ignored them. With all the slaves in the city, I could hardly be the only person in the city to practice magic.

After several minutes, I closed the window and walked over to my door, ignoring the comb on my table that Aaric had purchased for me some time ago. I had attempted to use it once, but it had been a hopeless case, so now it just laid there, a few teeth short.

I assumed Aaric would be in the study, but on reaching the stairs, the smell of fried eggs and toast tickled my nose. My stomach growled in anticipation. I hadn't eaten anything since well before the party last night. I hurried down the stairs and stepped into the small kitchen.

Aaric was standing at the stove, his back to me. A plate piled with burnt toast sat on the table. A pitcher of milk stood next to it, with one empty glass. I seated myself at the table and helped myself to some milk and toast. Aaric turned toward me and set a frying pan filled with eggs on the table. I saw with some dismay that those were burnt, too.

“I see you're awake.” Aaric frowned at the glass of milk I had poured. “I got that glass for myself.”

I motioned toward the cupboard. “I'm pretty sure there are more in there.”

Aaric sighed and retrieved another glass, seemingly oblivious to my testing. I had taken his glass and told him to get a new one. Completely unacceptable behavior for a slave, but he tolerated it. Why?

I heaped the eggs on my plate, leaving him to serve himself. He did so without commenting on it. After watching the other Oppressors and seeing how they were, I didn't understand his behavior, but I wanted to.

“What are your plans for today?” I asked.

Aaric had shoved an enormous mouthful of eggs in his mouth at the same time I asked, so I had to wait a minute before he answered.

“Not much,” he said when he could speak. He drank some milk and continued. “I think I may go to the library.”

“A library?” I asked, unable to contain my eagerness. “Like, for books?”

Aaric smiled. “Yes, that is typically what they contain.”

“May I go?” The question was out before I could help myself. I'd heard of libraries but had never seen one. They sounded incredible.

Aaric tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm. I suppose. Slaves aren't often seen at the library, but
occasionally
their masters bring them along to carry books and such.”

“I'll carry fifty books if I have to!” I half stood, ready to be off. “When do we leave?”

“Why so eager?” he asked, taking a bite of burnt toast and grimacing at the taste.

“Why?” I repeated. “It's a library! Need there be any other reason?”

“I don't know . . .” Aaric tried to look doubtful, but his eyes twinkled, and I knew I would get to go. For the first time since my capture, I felt happy.

17

Adaryn

I
t was freezing outside, and a chill wind blew down the streets, cutting through my cloak. Despite how cold it was, the sun was out, casting its pallor on the world.

I walked a little behind Aaric, trying to conceal my impatience with him. The man was actually attempting to walk with his nose in a book. I had to push him out of the way of an oncoming carriage more than once.

The city seemed so alive in some ways, filled with people scurrying in all directions, sounds, smoke, and steam from the factories . . . but the city seemed dead as well. The buildings were all brick and mortar or cut wooden planks. Nothing grew. Not like my forest, peaceful and still,
alive
.

I tugged Aaric out of the way of a horse and rider clattering down the street for what felt like the hundredth time, rolling my eyes with exasperation, when a flash of red caught my eye. I turned my head to look, curious, and my heart stopped.

Ember was here, in the city! I hadn't seen my childhood friend for over four years. She had simply disappeared one day and was assumed dead. I glanced quickly at Aaric who was still reading and decided he wouldn't notice I was gone until he reached the library (if at all), then I darted down the side street toward my friend, my eyes locked on her reddish mane of hair. If she was in the city, then she must be a—

“Ember!” I called out, skidding to a stop in the icy slush behind her.

Ember turned to look at me in utter shock. “Adaryn?” she whispered. Her eyes went to the collar around my neck. “You too?” There was pain in her eyes. She wore an identical collar to mine.

“You're alive!” I exclaimed happily, wrapping her in a hug. I felt her frame stiffen, and she didn't return the embrace. “Everyone thinks you're dead.” I stepped back to look at her. “We will have to find a way to let our people know the good news.” I grinned; it was wonderful to see a familiar face, especially that of one of my best friends.

Ember looked at me, her face twisted with worry. She was not the Ember I knew. “Go,” she whispered and jumped with fright when a hand landed on her shoulder.

“What a touching reunion,” a familiar voice drawled. I looked up into the eyes of Kingsley, the hairs rising on the back of my neck. Ember was now looking at the ground, her hands white knuckled and clasped together.

“What did you do to her?” I spat.

Kingsley arched a lazy eyebrow. “What should be done to you, Poppy. She was properly broken, body and spirit. Your friend here is the perfect slave. She obeys every command given to her, takes no thought for herself, and would never, ever dream of escape, would you, Ginger?”

Ember shook her head fiercely, fear etched in every line of her body. “Never!” The word came fervently. I felt sick inside. And enraged.

“You're a monster,” I said to Kingsley, my body trembling with anger. “You're disgusting. No human should be treated like this, ever.”

“Oh, you're quite right, no human should,” Kingsley said, his green eyes sparkling with malice. “Good thing you're not human.”

I summoned the magic without thought. The air hummed and crackled around me. I
was
the magic. I started to weave an enchantment of lightning when the same cloak of magic sprung up around Ember. She was looking at me, her eyes wild with fear.

“Please go, Adaryn,” she begged. “I don't want to hurt you, but I have to protect my master. Go!”

I stared at her in shock, unable to believe what she just said, but the aura of magic around her was unmistakable.

Kingsley watched it all, a sly smile on his lips. He'd goaded me, I realized. He had wanted me to summon the magic. I jumped, startled, when a hand lightly touched my shoulder, only to realize it was Aaric. I released the magic. Aaric ignored me, talking to Kingsley.

“I am truly sorry, Kingsley,” Aaric was saying. “I don't know what got into her. This won't happen again, I assure you.”

Keep dreaming,
I thought, but I held my peace.

“She's a wild thing, Aaric,” Kingsley said. “Summoning magic against one of the Enlightened is no small matter. Are you sure you won't sell her? I'll double my offer. One hundred silvers. She needs someone to train her properly, Aaric. Someone with . . . experience.”

His eyes flickered my way. I blanched, desperately hoping I misread the double meaning in his words and gaze. I looked fearfully at Aaric, and a soft laugh escaped Kingsley's lips, sending an awful chill down my spine.

Aaric was quiet for a moment. I tried not to fidget. One hundred silvers was a staggering amount. My whole village never saw that amount in a single year. It was incredible to think that a single individual could possess that kind of money.

“I thank you for your offer,” Aaric said after what seemed like an eternity. “But I will keep her. For now. I understand she is acting the fool, but she is still learning our ways. I believe in time she will come to behave properly, as you say.”

I tried not to breathe a sigh of relief. Kingsley was looking at Aaric, his eyes narrowed in disbelief. “Your choice,” he said, but there was something in his tone I couldn't name. Anger? Warning? “But have a care she learns her place quickly. People are beginning to talk. She caused quite a scene last night, talking the way she did to me, staring down Miss Grace and treating you like an
equal
. There have been rumors she practices magic in plain view at her bedroom window. Did you allow that, or is she doing it without your knowledge? You know the laws.” Aaric's hand momentarily squeezed my shoulder, but he remained silent as Kingsley continued. “Don't let her womanly charms trick you into thinking she is anything other than what she is. A slave. An object. A wild . . .
barbarian
.”

My cheeks flushed with the injustice of his words, but then Aaric spoke. I was surprised to hear ice in his words. “I have not forgotten who or what she is, Lord Kingsley. And I haven't forgotten she is
my
slave. I apologize for her misbehavior. It will not happen again. Good day.”

With his hand still on my shoulder, Aaric turned me around and back down the street. I tried to turn to catch a glimpse of Ember, but Aaric's hand was strong, and he pushed me down the street with little effort.

Aaric didn't say a word to me for several minutes, and I was beginning to think I was going to be lucky enough to get let off without a lecture when he sidestepped into a narrow alley, pulling me along with him.

He spun to face me, his eyes blazing. I instinctively took a step back. I had never seen him this angry, not even last night.

“Are you insane?” he hissed, bearing down on me. “Do you
want
to be sold? What is your problem? This is
twice
now that you've popped off at Kingsley of
all
people, and heavens above you were going to use your
magic
against him? What is
wrong
with you?” There were bright spots of color on his cheeks.

I didn't know what to say, so I stayed silent. Aaric ran a hand through his already unruly hair. It wouldn't stay combed if his life depended on it.

“I don't know what to do with you,” he said, throwing his hands up in despair. “I
should
punish you. Generate pain until you're howling, begging for relief.” He quit talking, breathing heavily. And that's when I knew.

“You won't, will you?” I asked softly, wonderingly. “You won't hurt me.” The thought was incredible, unbelievable, but I knew it was true.

Aaric looked at me, took a deep breath, and let it out again. “No,” he said at last. “I won't. I can't.”

“Why?” I asked.

Aaric leaned against one of the cold, stony walls of the alley, his shoulders slumping in defeat. I felt an ache of pain for him, marveling at myself for feeling it.

“I
should
hurt you, punish you, rather,” he said. “Society demands nothing less. A master must be able to control his slave. And that's what you are. Just a slave, a forest thing, barely human. But when I look at you,” he looked then, pain and confusion in his gaze. My heartbeat quickened with his eyes on me. “I see a human,” he said. “A girl. A woman. A wild one, with bird's nest hair.” His lips quirked in a barely there smile. “But still a woman. And I can't hurt her. I can't. And I can't sell her either, because if she's hurt then, it will still be my fault.”

He laughed; it sounded hollow. “I'm a right fool,” he said bitterly, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets. “I can't bring myself to train my slave and, as such, I can't control her. And because she won't be controlled, she'll do exactly as she pleases, making me lose face in society. My father's memory will be tarnished with the shame of his son. Anything I do, all of my discoveries, will be tainted by my lack of discipline. Shameful, really.”

I felt a twinge of guilt. Slavery was wrong, of that I was certain, but looking at him in that moment, I knew he was only doing what society dictated of him. In all likelihood, he hadn't wanted to capture me, I realized with bewilderment.

“I'm sorry,” I said. It just about choked me to say it, but I managed. “I will try and learn your society's ways.” Aaric looked at me, suspicion in his gaze. I held my hands up peacefully. “No, I mean it. I will try and act . . . respectably. At least while we're out in public.” I added the last part with a crooked smile.

“How do I know you're not lying?” Aaric asked, skepticism in his expression.

I frowned. “I just promised. When a nomad promises, it's binding. I will keep my peace.”

Aaric nodded and then smiled bitterly. “I don't suppose I have a choice but to believe you.”

He wasn't like the other people here I met, I thought, not for the first time. Something happened. Why did he see me differently from everyone else? I didn't know yet, but I was determined to find out.