Summoned and Bound (Summoned Series Romances Book 3) Read online

  With her defenses back in place, she answered his question in clipped, cool tones. “It is. I’m tasked with teaching all new arrivals what they need to know to survive their new existence. Those who do not listen to me don’t tend to live long.”

  She approached him with one hand outstretched, and her palm turned up as if she were soothing a wild beast and not a man. “You will stay still as I unchain you. Then I will find you something to wear.”

  He glanced down in surprise and then swore. “Where the hell are my clothes?”

  “You’re only now noticing you’re naked?”

  She wanted to smile at the look of confused outrage on his face but managed to hide her amusement. She would not be drawn in by his looks or his charm. That way would only lead to pain, and she had already suffered enough. Easier to feel nothing at all.

  Vamir lifted his shackled wrists, then held completely still for her. “Well, yes. You might recall I was rather busy getting summoned to pay attention to anything else. That hurts like a bitch, by the way. And then there were the chains, and the nasty tempered fellow in the robes, and the discovery that I’d found a surviving member of the elemental race hidden away in the lair of one of the Magi. I did have a few other things on my mind.”

  “What did you call me?” she asked as she touched her fingers to his wrists, releasing the spells that held them closed.

  “An elemental.”

  Vamir knew the risks, but he didn’t have the time for a better plan. Not that he had much of a plan. This was going to be one part fast talking and three parts making shit up as he went along. He needed her to trust him, and it had to happen quickly.

  “You seem to know a great many things you shouldn’t.” Gwyn crouched down so that she could unlock the shackles on his ankles, and an unexpected surge of desire hit him as a light floral scent teased at his senses.

  “No.” He growled to himself, and Gwyn’s head snapped up in surprise.

  “No?”

  He gritted his teeth, inwardly cursing himself for speaking aloud. Now was no time to be thinking with his cock. No matter how enticing she looked kneeling at his feet, he had to stay focused. “I know what I know. I wasn’t aware any of it was a secret.”

  The chains fell away, and she rose to her feet again, her silver eyes full of unasked questions. “The master will want to know where you learned about such things. I suggest you have a clear, concise answer prepared.”

  “How will he know?” Vamir asked, but he already knew the answer. She would tell their master because she had no other choice. That was the risk he’d taken when he’d admitted to knowing the name of her race. It had been worth it, though. That information connected them and kept her talking. He wasn’t the most charming of his brethren, but he’d kept company with some of the smoothest talking bastards in the regiment, and he’d do his damnedest to make her trust him.

  Tyrion and Tanor would be laughing into their ales if they could see him now. Captured by the enemy, naked as a newborn, and trying to talk a beautiful woman into trusting him…when she didn’t even know who or what he was.

  The fates were fucking with him.

  ***

  Chapter Two

  Gwyn led Vamir out of the summoning chamber and down a short hallway to the bathing area. The master was fastidious in his habits and insisted that all newly acquired slaves wash themselves directly after their arrival. Since her master didn’t trust anyone else to be present during the summoning rituals, it invariably fell to Gwyn to see each slave cleaned, dressed, and introduced to their new reality.

  It was never easy to witness their anguish and fear, harder still when that fear invariably turned to anger and they lashed out at the only person present. Her. It didn’t matter if she treated them with kindness or cruelty, when the anger came, she was always the focus. Gwyn understood. If there had been someone she could have raged at after her summoning, she would have. Back then, there hadn’t been anyone else, only the master. He’d summoned her first of all his slaves, using a ring that had taken him years to prepare.

  In all the years since her capture, the master had never been able to find another of her race or even another species from her home plane. Not until today. She glanced back at the towering warrior who followed a few steps behind her and tried to block the memories that were trying to surface. She didn’t want to remember her former life. If she recalled anything about her plane or the ones who lived there, she would be compelled to report it to her master. Her heart told her that Vamir would not survive long if the sorcerer learned his true nature.

  Vamir followed in silence, his mind creating and discarding plans with every step he took. Eventually, the others would find him. It might take weeks or even months, though, before the Garda spell-weavers tracked him across the various planes of existence until they found the right world. It could take even longer to find his precise location on it.

  His planning was interrupted by their arrival at the end of the hall. The left-hand room appeared to be small, dank, and smelled of wet earth and pungent herbs. Barrels of water lined the far wall, with smaller buckets set in front of them. The right-hand room was dimly lit, with a number of tunics and robes hanging on the walls.

  “You will bathe in there, using the cleanser on the shelf.” She pointed to the left-hand room.

  “What if I—” Vamir had intended to argue, but his feet were already moving, and he found himself obeying her commands. The lack of control over his body disturbed him deeply, and he shot a disgruntled look her way.

  Her expression was carefully neutral, he caught a glimmer of sympathy in her eyes that she couldn’t quite hide. “It’s disconcerting, isn’t it? The master told you to obey me, and so that becomes your first instinct. The collar makes it happen.”

  “And if I fight it?” he asked.

  She shook her head slightly. “You won’t succeed. The compulsion will grow stronger. If you continue to resist, the pain begins. Eventually, you will obey. Everyone obeys in the end.”

  “And if I attacked you?” he asked. “Would your master give me my freedom in exchange for your life?”

  She laughed, an empty, mirthless sound that echoed off the walls. “Our master doesn’t need to worry about such things.” She dropped her arms to her sides. “Try it. Come at me, Vamir. See if you can lay a hand on me. I promise you won’t be punished for it.”

  “And why should I trust you?” he growled the question, his muscles already tensing as he prepared to attack.

  “You shouldn’t. You’ll live longer if you don’t trust anyone but yourself.”

  He lunged, covering half the space between them in a single stride. He didn’t bother raising his hands. He wouldn’t hurt her, she was a victim in all this. Still, he needed to understand the limits of his collar, and this seemed a good way.

  “Freeze!” she commanded him, and his traitorous body did exactly that. It happened so suddenly he stumbled, his muscles locking up so that he couldn’t recover his balance. Vamir landed on his hands and knees as he fought for control. The wave of pain was minor, nothing more than a warning, but as the discomfort grew, he started to understand exactly how powerful the collar was, and how much fucking trouble he was in.

  “Relax, Vamir.”

  At her command, his body reverted to his control again, but the lesson wouldn’t be forgotten anytime soon. “I hate this fucking collar,” he muttered as he got to his feet.

  “Hate it all you like, but try to remember to respect what it represents.”

  He rolled his eyes at her. “I know, I know. If I do, I’ll live longer.”

  Gwyn didn’t want to, but she liked the new slave. Despite everything that had happened to him, he’d somehow managed to keep his sense of humor. It had been a long time since anyone had made her want to laugh. It hadn’t escaped her notice that when he’d come at her, he’d never even lifted his hands. He wouldn’t have hurt her. She doubted he’d have even touched her, and that had never happened before. She t
aught this lesson to each new arrival, and it always went only one of two ways. Either they were too afraid to make a move at all, or they were so angry at their change in fortunes that they eagerly accepted any chance to lash out and came at her with the intent to do serious harm.

  “Bathe, and I’ll find you something to wear. You’re what, six and a half feet tall?”

  “Closer to six-foot-nine, actually.” Vamir glanced around the room and then sighed. “The water’s going to be frigid, isn’t it?”

  “It is. Heated bath water is a luxury not granted to many.” She turned to go, but his next question made her pause.

  “What do I have to do to get a hot bath, then?” he asked.

  “You don’t want to know,” she replied and left the room to give him what privacy she could. She needed a few minutes alone to calm her thoughts and try to understand why this man affected her when so many others hadn’t. He intrigued her, making her want to know him better, and she couldn’t take the risk. If the master sensed her interest he would use it against them both, and Gwyn did not want to be the cause of another’s suffering.

  Not if she could prevent it.

  Vamir checked the barrels, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the faint stench of mold that clung to the water-warped wood. He picked the cleanest of the buckets and doused himself quickly, gritting his teeth against the biting cold. The rock floor was soon slick with water and soap residue, and he had to move carefully to avoid slipping. By the time he’d cleaned up, he was cold, wet, and irritable. The only benefit to his frigid dip was that the cold had eliminated all physical evidence of his attraction to her. He’d managed to clear his mind, too, and he was determined to stay focused.

  That plan lasted right up until the moment she re-entered the room.

  “I brought you some rags to dry yourself. I’ve found some clothes for you, too.”

  The soft melody of her voice rekindled the fire in his blood, and his cock hardened despite the icy bath he’d just endured. “Thank you.”

  “My master instructed me to see you settled. I’m simply obeying orders.” She made her way to him, ignoring the water pooling on the floor.

  She was still a few steps away when she lost her footing and slipped. Vamir caught her before she hit the floor.

  “I’ve got you,” he murmured.

  “Thank you.” Her lovely mouth turned up into an expression close to a smile as she looked at him, and that delicate, floral scent hit him again. It was stronger this time, reminding him of wildflowers and sun-warmed meadows. Desire flared, hot and insistent, and for a moment, he was tempted to kiss her. He wanted to crush her to his chest and promise her that he would take her away from this nightmare of a life.

  What in the hells is wrong with me?

  “You don’t have to thank me for doing my duty, little one.”

  “Carrying me is hardly your duty,” she protested, a slight furrow appearing between her pale brows as she puzzled over what he’d said.

  “My duty is to protect any elemental who needs it. Always.”

  “Well, the threat from the floor is over, so you can put me down now.” She pointed toward the ground, but he noted that she hadn’t phrased the statement as an order.

  “I’ll put you down by the door, the floor is dry there.”

  She arched a pale brow at his logic, and there was no missing the smile that touched her lips. “If you’re trying to save me from getting soaked, perhaps you should have considered the fact that you are just as wet as the floor.”

  He laughed, the unfamiliar sound filling the room. “So much for my dashing rescue.”

  Gwyn couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched her without inflicting pain. The close contact made it impossible to ignore her growing attraction to the new arrival. Her fingers itched to touch him, and her heart raced as if she’d sprinted from the top of the citadel all the way down to the lowest levels.

  Once they reached the doorway, Vamir stopped, but he didn’t let go of her.

  “You have to let go of me now,” she told him.

  He started to set her down, but then his muscles tensed and his jaw set as he resisted obeying. “I’m really starting to hate this fucking slave collar.”

  “It’s easiest if you don’t fight it.” Gwyn found herself stroking his cheek in an attempt to soothe him.

  Vamir turned his head to brush a light kiss to her palm. “I’m a warrior, little one. I won’t stop fighting until I’m dead.”

  “Then you won’t live long,” she said, seized by a sense of loss at the thought of his dying. She’d seen so much death and suffering that the idea of another life ending shouldn’t have bothered her, but it did.

  He finally put her down, letting her body slide along his in a way that made her breath catch. His eyes gleamed with mischief, and she knew he’d done it deliberately.

  “What?” he asked when she frowned at him. “Your robe was already wet, and now I’m drier.”

  “That sort of thinking will ensure that what little time you are alive is spent being punished for insubordinate behavior. Please, Vamir. I do not want to see you punished.”

  “I don’t intend to be here long enough for that to happen, little one. But I will try to behave in the meantime.” He brushed back a lock of her hair from her face and gave her a strange look, one that made her heart beat a little faster. “Would you really care if I were punished?”

  “I would. I may be surrounded by misery and suffering, but that doesn’t mean I take any pleasure in it.”

  “How long have you lived like this, mistress?”

  “A hundred years or more. Enough time has passed I’ve lost track of exactly how long ago I was summoned. And you must stop talking about escaping. No one’s ever managed it.” She had witnessed firsthand the deaths of the handful of slaves who’d tried to flee. Some nights she still heard their screams in her nightmares.

  “When I leave here, little one, I intend to take you with me. I think a hundred years of darkness is enough for any soul to endure.” His fingertips caressed her cheek lightly before he lowered his hand to take the rags she held.

  “When you leave here, it will most likely be with your ring on my finger as I deliver you to your new master. Will you still want to rescue me when I’m the one stealing your future?”

  “Unless that torc around your neck is purely decorative, then you’re just as much a slave as I am. You’re not responsible for anything you do while you are under his control.”

  Vamir used the rags to dry himself as they talked, rubbing briskly to help warm himself up after his cold water bath. He could see the guilt in Gwyn’s eyes as she spoke of taking him to his next master, and he found himself wondering how many times she’d had to perform that task.

  She shook her head, her eyes darkening to a stormy gray. “You don’t understand. I’m my master’s right hand. I remember every summoning and have memorized the name of everyone I’ve delivered to their new owner. I’ve lived with the darkness so long, I don’t know any other way. Even if you do find a way to escape, you shouldn’t take me with you.”

  “Why not?”

  Her fingers strayed to the collar around her neck. “Because until I am freed, I am his servant, and I will betray you the way I have betrayed all the others. You can’t save me or protect me from the things I’ve done.”

  Vamir didn’t argue with her, but he knew she was wrong. She had memorized the names of her master’s victims, holding their memories in her heart and carrying the weight of her guilt at what she’d been forced to do. The darkness hadn’t consumed her, not yet. She could still be saved. For now, though, he changed the subject. “What will happen to me now?”

  She handed him a slave’s robe and a pair of felted wool slippers large enough to fit him. “If you’d been the feral species we were expecting, then you’d have been sold as a pit fighter. Likely, that’s where you will still end up, but our master will not decide until he’s tested your abilities.” Her expression dar
kened slightly. “If you impress him, he may keep you as breeding stock before selling you.”

  “Breeding? You master actually…” The haunted look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. With his stomach roiling in horror at what she’d told him, he tugged the robe over his head and tried to ignore the rough scratch of the wool against his back. It fell to mid-thigh and had no sleeves at all, but it would have to do.

  “He does. It would be one of the ways you could earn that hot bath you were asking about earlier,” she said.

  “You were right, I was better off not knowing. I can’t father children, though, so I’ve no value as breeding stock.”

  For the first time in his life, Vamir was grateful for the unique circumstances of his birth. Garda males were always born in pairs. The brothers were raised and trained together, fighting as a team and protecting each other’s backs. They claimed a mate together, too, binding their souls to one woman. Only soulbound mates could conceive, and Vamir was the only male of his race to be born without a twin.

  His solitary existence reminded some of his people about an ancient prophecy, but Vamir didn’t believe in ancient riddles. Whatever his destiny was, he refused to consider that it had already been planned out and predicted by an oracle that’d been dead for centuries.

  Gwyn tipped her head and gave him an assessing look, considering his admission of sterility. “If that’s true, then you’ll be sold as a fighter for certain. If you have any abilities that make you exceptional, the master will want to know of them. The more he can charge for you, the better you’ll be treated while you’re here.”

  If he revealed the true scope of his abilities, it wouldn’t take long for the master to figure out Vamir’. Even if the sorcerer had never come across one of the Garda before, there was only one race in the planes able to transform themselves into beasts made of solid stone. They were the subject of legends on dozens of worlds, and Vamir’s luck could only hold so long. If the sorcerer didn’t recognize him, then he certainly would the moment he transformed. “I’m not a feral, but I can alter my form, change my skin to something like stone so that it acts as armor.”