The Cage King (15 page)

She watched that skillful tongue come out to make a light pass over the outside lips and clit before it delved deeper, entering and tasting her, lapping up the wetness and creating more.

She watched the dark curls move as his head turned this way and that to taste every inch available. There wasn’t a patch of skin that hadn’t experienced his lips and tongue on it, and his expression was of a man savoring every experience, committing it to memory.

She watched as his fiery eyes lifted to meet hers, and not breaking their gaze, his tongue and lips found her clit and began to work.

His teasing had worked her up, made her muscles jump and her skin crackle with electricity, but it was his eyes that ratcheted up her arousal, had her wet beyond all reason and desperate to come. Those gorgeous eyes watching her, taking his cues from her body and without words, pressing harder here, sucking a little more there.

A rolling hunger swept through her, and in quick decision she grabbed his hair and pulled him up. “Not like that. I’m coming with you in me.”

His eyes closed like a man in pain. “Are you sure?”

In answer she spread her legs wider, opening and making herself vulnerable, willing him to understand everything in her heart with what she was offering.

He lowered himself over her, taking her mouth again, and she accepted greedily, tasting herself on him and loving how they combined. “Esh, I’m yours.”

He surged forward, burying himself in her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, holding tight as he rode her, long perfect strokes that had her already primed body coming apart in minutes.

As her orgasm began to end he came, groaning in her ear as his body emptied in hers, and she held him tighter, holding onto him and vowing in her heart she’d never let him go again.

‡

T
he final day
of the fights. Esh was going against Rorth in the first round, and Nalah had accepted Esh at his word that she didn’t have anything to fear from the half-orc.

She
did
fear the albino, though, and her heart beat a mad rhythm whenever she considered the possibility the final match would be between him and Esh.

All in all, fear held her in its grip, though she did her best to dispel it and keep moving forward. It was too insistent though. Today was the end, and all she saw was disaster. She didn’t tell Esh, but she was beginning to question what was going on with the Guild. There was no indication she’d received about anyone else being her back-up or coming for her, and that combined with the albino and Beylor’s looming
offer
had her downing antacid and hoping she wouldn’t be sick.

She’d seen Tiffany earlier at breakfast. The woman had been wearing the magical ring and talking her usual mile-a-minute about nothing in particular. Before she left she gave Nalah a hug and a wink and said how glad she was they were joining the “family”. That made Beylor’s expectations pretty clear.

Esh was already at the ring. After breakfast she’d come back to their apartment, but it was about time to head out and cheer him on. There was a knock at the door, and before she could answer Beylor walked in, followed by Lian.

“Hello Nalah,” he said in that high voice, and strange how being alone and defenseless made the usually pitiful tone suddenly menacing.

“I’m about to head to the ring,” she replied, though from Beylor’s smug, sure face, there wasn’t anything she could say that would change what was about to happen.

“I hope you understand we don’t want to harm you. We just need to give Esh the proper incentive to make the right choice.”

Lian moved towards her, and his power rose in him, a beacon shining from within. In his hand was a gold cuff, and as he fastened it around her wrist, his power surged forward, branding her and making her hiss at the repugnant sensation. Her hand jerked in automatic desire to get rid of the loathsome shackle.

“Don’t touch it,” Lian said. “I have a gift, you see. Take it off, and it will poison you. Move more than five feet away from me, the same thing will happen.”

Nalah prodded the magical item. Lian was telling the truth, the magic circling the band giving light taps to her skin before pulling itself back, and one tiny thread rose from the band and split apart, pinning one side of itself to her shoulder and the other latching on to Lian.

Beylor made a motion with his head, and Lian grabbed her and jerked her upright. Beylor continued. “You’ll be fine as long as Esh makes the right choices. So quit whining. Gods, women are such a pain.”

Beylor left, muttering something about Tiffany starting to get on his nerves. Lian kept her still in the apartment, and after Beylor was long gone, spoke to her. “So you understand your circumstances,” he began, his voice perfectly pleasant. “You are dying today. If the fights don’t kill Esh, I’m going to kill you in front of him, and then I’m going to kill him. Of course, if you run from me, you’re dead that much sooner, and I’ll simply throw your dead body in front of him.”

“You can’t do that! Beylor said-”

“After I kill Esh I’m killing Beylor, so I don’t care what he said. That fool has been too lax in running his empire. It was time for it to fall.”

Nalah studied him for any hint of what was going on. With everything else going on, they hadn’t taken him seriously enough. “Why are you doing this? You’re really that jealous of the Cage King?”

Lian’s lips thinned. “I couldn’t care less about that ridiculous title. What I care about is he murdered my brother, and it’s time he paid.”

“Esh doesn’t murder anyone. If it was a cage match-”

“My brother’s name was Vitto,” Lian interrupted. “Ring any bells? It should. Your brother died in one of my brother’s matches.”

“Vitto didn’t have a brother.” This was madness. She wanted closure, right? Well, closure was slamming down on her hard, knocking her to the ground and gut-kicking her while she lay there broken and bleeding.

“‘Half-brother might’ be more accurate. While we might not have been close, Vitto was my blood, and I won’t let his death go unavenged. So I’m going to kill Esh, then take over Beylor’s operation and merge it with the remnants of my brother’s that I was able to salvage. My empire will be one everyone will envy. You won’t be around to see it, of course, but you’ll be the one who starts the dominos falling.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her to the ring. Instead of being up front, they were in their own little box, about halfway up. Nalah had a clear view of everything, including the ring, including Beylor, and including the Pale Lady, who was taking in the scene before her, and even at this distance the woman’s magic was fearsome.

The announcer stepped up, and the crowd lit up. Nalah put her hand over the gold cuff and began working on it, fighting the Pale Lady’s power beating at her shields and concentrating everything in her to figure out how to unwind this unfamiliar innate magic. Damned if they were going to use her to control Esh, and she’d make sure they regretted putting a hand on her.

*

Rorth lunged for
him, but Esh shifted his body and had the half orc hitting the ground hard, the resounding
thud
echoing through the building. Rorth groaned in pain.

The match had lasted a while, both of them able to take a beating. They were worse for wear, but Rorth’s face was now as distorted and misshapen as any orc’s, and his skin had a decidedly green hue.

The half orc was an excellent opponent, but the way he moved told Esh he was used to handling weapons and defending himself against a large number of opponents, not cage fighting and not fighting one on one. Nalah was correct in what she saw in him.

The crowd’s roar was beginning to penetrate his brain, and a quick glance showed bets being paid out.

Esh moved away from Rorth, waiting to see if his opponent was out or would try to rise one last time.

A few boos came from the crowd when it became apparent he wasn’t going to go after the half orc when he was down, and a chant began, started from the upper boxes. “Kill him. Kill him!”

It spread through the crowd.
Kill him, kill him, kill him!
Fucking cowards, so willing to watch death but they’d piss themselves if they ever entered the ring themselves. He took yet another step back, to louder boos and louder chanting.

Finally, Beylor rose, lifting his hands for quiet. “Cage King, listen to the crowd. End the match.”

“The match is ended. I won.”

Beylor’s eyes narrowed, and beside him, Tiffany began to twine her hands together, her face uncertain as she looked up to Beylor. “I said kill him.”

The end game was beginning, and now he’d get through it the way he always did – he’d fight, and the gods take pity on anyone in his way. “I won’t kill him.”

‡

“I
won’t kill
him,” Esh repeated. Raising his voice, he looked directly at Beylor. “I’m not your dog, so like fuck I’ll kill on your command.”

Beylor’s rat face had a smug smile Esh couldn’t wait to pummel off him. “You think you have a choice? Kill or die.”

“Oh, I’ll kill, don’t doubt that.” Esh enjoyed the loss of assurance from Beylor’s face. The little piggy might pretend he was king of all, but he knew the truth, and that moment proved it.

Rorth rose behind him, the half orc shaking blows and soil from his body, and the movement had the smug look returning to Beylor’s face. “You handful against my army? I don’t know why, Cage King, but I always thought once you came here and saw the truth, saw what I would give you, you’d be practical and join me. I’m disappointed this isn’t happening.”

Nalah.
He had to get to Nalah. He could waste his time hoping she got to safety, but she’d proven time and again she wouldn’t run if he was in danger. It was left to him, to fight, to kill. The fire in him started its journey, the small flame that always flickered in his gut sparking, a slow inferno tripping through his limbs, burning doubt and fear and all emotions, burning everything save the one truth in his world – Nalah would live, and everything that tried to hurt her would die.

Rorth started laughing, the sound from not-an-enemy, therefore the reason for it not a concern. Beylor, though, frowned and said, “Disgusting orc, it was a mistake to bring you into the Tour.”

“For more reasons than you can know, you pathetic piece of shit,” Rorth replied in his earthquake voice. He looked up to the long, flat expanse of ceiling. In quick succession Beylor as well as those in the stands copied the movement, and even Esh’s followed in automatic response.

A crack bloomed in the center of the ceiling, chunks falling in, once in a slow pulse, then a repeat of the action again and again, the cracks now with audible accompaniment. From the corners of his eyes Esh took in the actions of those surrounding him, Beylor’s men shifting with confused jerks, and the sounds of movement and vocal mutterings from the stands.

An explosion blew the center of the roof open. Screams from the stands, shuffling became the thumps of bodies colliding, and something…
someone
…fell from the sky, landing in the middle of the ring, legs bent and back curled to absorb the shock, in one hand the largest, most impressive sword he’d ever seen, in the other a double-bladed axe three times normal size, the metal sharp enough to decimate stone with its edges.