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Summoned and Bound (Summoned Series Romances Book 3) Page 3


  “That’s an unusual talent. I imagine it’s rather handy, too.” She handed him the slippers she had been holding, and once he had them on, she pointed back down the hall they had come down earlier. “Follow me, and I will take you to your cell. Once we’re there, I suggest you get some rest. Tomorrow, your new life begins.”

  Gwyn started walking, confident that Vamir would follow. The torc around his neck would ensure he obeyed. They hadn’t gotten more than few paces when he broke the silence between them.

  “I know he told me to call you mistress, but are you permitted to tell me your name?”

  The question caught her off guard. “I…I suppose I am permitted, but what does it matter if you can’t use my name?”

  “When I think of you, I would like it to be by your real name. My thoughts are still my own, even if nothing else is,” he said.

  His words held a certain wisdom, and she found herself stopping so that she could turn to face him. Gwyn had learned that names held a certain type of power. To give another being your name meant that you were offering up a piece of yourself. The names of every slave her master summoned was inscribed on the ring that controlled them, part of the magic that bound them to his will. Gwyn preferred to be known simply as the mistress, to hide behind the title and to protect what little remained to her, but she found herself wanting to give this man her name.

  She tried to convince herself it was only so she could speak the words aloud once more, that he would be gone soon and no threat to her, but she knew better. If he knew her name, then he would remember her, and maybe her life would not be quite so lonely if she knew there was one other person out there who knew her name. “I’m Gwyneth Annaren.”

  His eyes widened for a brief moment, and then he bowed low. “I am honored to meet you, Gwyneth Annaren.”

  “You shouldn’t be honored at all. You’re here with me because you had the ill fortune to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and ended up being summoned into slavery by mistake. If anything, you should be regretting that we ever met.”

  He straightened and flashed her a cocky grin that made her heart stutter in her chest. “Maybe I should, but I don’t. I’m starting to think I’m exactly where I need to be.”

  “Then perhaps you’ve gone mad. You wouldn’t be the first.” She turned her back and started down the hallway, doing her best to calm herself as she walked.

  “I’ve not lost my wits, thank you very much. All things considered, I think I’m coping rather well.”

  His words were laced with laughter, and she wondered if he might be a little mad. After everything Vamir had lost today, he shouldn’t be laughing, or flirting, and she was quite certain he just done both.

  Vamir fell in behind Gwyneth, still trying to wrap his head around what he’d learned. He knew who Gwyneth was, probably better than she knew herself. She’d been little more than a child when she had vanished from the gardens of her home. The only daughter of two of the most powerful elementals alive at the time, she’d gone missing only days before the plane was to be sealed off to protect the inhabitants from the Magi. Her disappearance had sent shockwaves through the population and broken the hearts of her parents.

  Forced to choose between searching for their child and protecting the entire plane with the spell they had personally created, Gwyneth’s parents were faced with an impossible choice. In the end, they had cast the spell. They had begged Vamir and the others who stayed at the outpost to watch for the ones who had gone missing and protect any they found, most especially their little girl. In all the time since, Vamir and his guardians had never found a trace of the ones who had been taken, not until today.

  He’d been wrong before. The fates weren’t fucking with him. They’d sent him to the person who needed him the most. He’d wanted a purpose, and now one had been handed to him.

  ***

  Chapter Three

  Gwyn answered her master’s early morning summons with dread in her heart. He normally left her to her duties during the day, especially when there was a new slave to train. To be called to the Magi’s quarters so early in the day didn’t bode well.

  Vamir’s eyes had haunted her, even after she’d fallen asleep, filling her head with fractured dreams and long dormant memories. She heard her momma singing a lullaby, the boom of her daddy’s laughter, the faces of loved ones long gone. Her past, locked away for so many years, came back to her in a disjointed jumble. Scents and sounds, places and people she had banished to the deepest corners of her mind. In her sleep, she couldn’t stop it, and by the time she awoke again, it was too late. Her mind overflowed with memories of the past, too many to ignore.

  She woke with tears on her cheeks and one recollection standing out above all the others. A pair of creatures with skin like granite, their aquamarine eyes glowing softly in the twilight as they perched outside her window, guarding her bedroom. They were Garda warriors, her guardians, and they were the same race as Vamir.

  Gwyn had bathed and tidied herself, composing her mind as she washed away every trace of her tears. If the master noticed her distress, he would want to know why, and the power of the collar would force her to confess what she had remembered. If that happened, Vamir would die, but only after they had wrested every secret from him and left him shattered and broken.

  He was the first denizen of Essa she had seen since the day she’d been summoned, the only one who might be able to tell her what happened to her people and why no one had ever come looking for her. She had to talk to him again and then she had to find a way to free him before the master realized exactly who and what he’d summoned.

  She transported herself to the hallway outside the master’s quarters with nothing more than a thought. Teleporting was one of the few magics she could use without restriction. She had learned that if a magical talent made her more useful, she could sometimes gain permission to use it. She could release spells on chains and manacles like the ones Vamir had worn last night, and a few other things, but the majority of her abilities were denied her unless the master gave her permission.

  She schooled her features to careful neutrality and then knocked on the door of his study.

  “Enter.”

  The master’s voice lacked the bitter edge that normally heralded a fit of temper. Gwyn considered that a good sign. She let herself in, closing the door before kneeling on the stone floor with her head bowed and hands clasped together in her lap.

  “I am here as you requested, master. What did you need of me?”

  “I need you to attend to a matter for me. You are to go to the kingdom of Wulfshaven and free a slave I summoned some years ago. It seems she has fallen into the hands of a king with more money than sense. His Highness King Bern contacted me and offered to pay for her to be freed.”

  She blinked in surprise and lifted her head to look at the master. “You want me to free a slave?”

  Even here, in the privacy of his quarters, the master wore his robes and hood, keeping his face hidden. Gwyn knew he never looked at himself anymore, not if he could avoid it. There was a price to be paid for the power he wielded, a payment claimed in flesh and blood, carved from his body the same way his spells ripped and sundered the essence.

  “Did you lose your hearing since last night? Yes, that’s what I want you to do. Free her, take the payment, and return here before the day is out.”

  “Yes, master.” Gwyn’s head spun. Never before had she been instructed to use her magic to undo the Magi’s. She could of course, and both of them knew it, but to do so required him to free her from one of the first commands he’d ever given her. She could never to use her magic to counter his.

  He snapped, “You have your orders. Why are you still here?”

  “Forgive me, master, I have a question before I go.”

  “What?”

  “I would like to know the name of the slave I will be freeing.”

  She felt the force of his stare and bowed her head again, unsure if he would answer her
or not.

  “Her name is Lily. Why did you want to know?”

  “You taught me that names have power, master. If I have her name, it will be easier to free her from the binding spells.”

  He paused, and then uttered a dry rasp that might have been a chuckle. “Indeed. If only my true apprentice paid as much attention to his lessons, we would both be free of his presence by now.”

  Gwyn started to get to her feet, but the master’s next words made her muscles freeze and her blood turn to ice water.

  “He asked for you company again.”

  “What did you tell him?” she asked, fighting to keep all emotion out of her voice. Raul had been trying to find a way to get her into his bed from the beginning of his time there. The master had always refused him, but that didn’t mean she would be safe forever.

  “I told him that his obsession with you needs to end. I find it disturbing that he continues to pursue carnal pleasures this far into his apprenticeship. If he spent as much time devoted to study as he did to his slave girls, he would be a master by now. To that end, I have stripped him of his pleasure slaves in hopes that the lack of distraction will help him focus.”

  “I see.” Gwyn knew that meant Raul would be in a vile mood for the foreseeable future, and she made a mental note to avoid him as much as possible. “Thank you, master.”

  “Don’t thank me. If I thought it would benefit him or me, I would give him the use of your body in a heartbeat. You are a tool for me to use, Gwyneth. Nothing more.”

  “Yes, master. I understand. I will see to the freeing of the slave and return here afterward.” She rose to her feet, bowed, then left. The second she was alone, she transported herself back to her room to gather up her cloak and other items she might need.

  Once she stood in her room, her thoughts turned to Vamir. With her gone, the master would assign Raul to train the new slave. Her stomach twisted into knots. Vamir would bear the brunt of Raul’s anger, and she could do nothing to stop it. She had to obey her master.

  For the first time in a long age, she uttered a silent prayer to whatever gods might be listening to watch over Vamir until she could get back. If her newly returning memories were right, then he had the strength to survive the tests they would put him through today. In his other form, he was nearly invulnerable, but if he transformed completely, they would recognize him as one of the Garda.

  He’d have to be careful.

  I hope he’s as smart as he is handsome. Otherwise he’s going to die before I can get him out of here.

  ****

  With no window or light to help him judge, Vamir had no way of knowing how long he’d been locked away in the cramped and barren cell where Gwyneth had left him. All he could tell was that enough time had passed that his stomach rumbled with hunger, and the chill of the stones beneath his bed had seeped into the marrow of his bones. There was nothing in the room except a pile of moldy straw covered by a thin sheet of burlap and a single oil lamp that produced more smoke than light.

  Despite Gwyneth’s advice to rest while he could, Vamir hadn’t done more than doze since he’d been locked away. He had too much to think about. The only way he would be able to keep his secrets was to dance on the thin edge of the truth, and that required forethought and planning. It didn’t’ help that long after she’d left, Gwyneth’s perfume lingered, teasing at his senses and calling to mind images of her haunting eyes and sad smile.

  Booted footsteps stopped outside the door to his cell, and Vamir rose to his feet in a heartbeat. Keys rattled in the lock, and the door swung open. He’d expected to see Gwyneth again, but instead he found himself staring into the hard face of a stranger.

  “So, you’re the new arrival? You don’t look like much to me.”

  “Appearances can be deceiving,” Vamir replied, taking in every detail of the man in the doorway. Heavier and shorter than the Magi, the new arrival wore the same style of robes. The rich, heavy fabric was dyed gray instead of black, but the overall look was the same, right down to the hood that covered the man’s head and cast a shadow over his face.

  “For your sake, I hope so.” The other man lifted his hands so that the sleeves fell back, revealing several rings on his fingers. “One of these rings is yours, slave, so do yourself a favor and don’t try anything stupid. You will follow me, do as you’re told, and if I think you are so much as thinking about trying to escape, I will make you suffer in ways you cannot begin to imagine.”

  “I thought my training would be overseen by the mistress. Has there been a change in plan?” Vamir asked. He had assumed he’d see Gwyneth again this morning. If he couldn’t make contact with her again, how in the hells could he take her with him?

  “I’ll be overseeing your testing today. As for my master’s favorite pet, she’s off running an errand for him.”

  The apprentice moved out of the doorway and snapped his fingers. “Follow me. Your trials begin now.”

  Vamir followed his captor, counting his paces and memorizing every turn they made through the twisting corridors. They passed more cells. Some of them had their doors open, but many others were locked and barred from the outside. The scent of food wafted down one hallway, and his stomach rumbled in response, reminding him that it had been a long time since the light meal he’d eaten before leaving the market the day before. The greasy, charred scent that greeted his nose was far from appetizing, but he was hungry enough it didn’t matter.

  The apprentice glanced back and shook his head. “If you’re still alive this afternoon, you can eat. I see no reason to waste food on a potential corpse.”

  Vamir didn’t bother to respond. He simply returned to counting his steps and pushed his hunger to the back of his mind. He’d eat later, after proving himself. For now he had only one purpose, to endure.

  ****

  Vamir’s world was full of pain. It came in a near infinite variety of types and intensities, but it was all very fucking unpleasant.

  The testing had been a long, vicious ordeal that had lasted for hours. He’d managed well enough in the beginning. The apprentice asked him questions about his life and ability to shift his skin to stone. Most of the questions were easy to answer without giving away anything of importance. Those same questions had been asked over and over again throughout the day. The wording changed, the meanings twisted in subtle ways to trip him up if he were somehow lying despite the spells imbued in the torc wrapped around his neck. Over and over, the apprentice ordered him to demonstrate his ability to turn his skin to stone and back to flesh again. The questions continued as he was beaten, burned, and slashed to test his abilities and his endurance.

  Then, he’d been handed a sword and ordered to fight, and then the true testing had begun. He’d held his own against the first slave, a human with no supernatural abilities. After he won a fight, he’d be interrogated again, and then the cycle would repeat.

  The trials were made worse by the need to guard his words and keep control over his instincts to protect himself and change forms. There would be hell to pay if he suddenly grew larger, then sprouted wings and horns mid-way through a fight. As his strength flagged and his mind tired, his will had weakened, but never broken.

  In the end, his years of ceaseless training saved him. A lifetime of discipline gave him the focus to hold on and endure until the apprentice finally declared the testing at an end.

  He’d been carried back to his cell by the very men he’d been fighting most of the day. They’d dropped him onto the burlap-covered straw that was his bed, adding another level of bruising to his already battered body. Normally, he’d heal most of the damage by shifting to his stone form and back again, but he couldn’t risk being seen, so instead, he suffered the pain in silence until sleep finally took him.

  ****

  Gwyn was gone longer than she would have liked. Freeing the slave had been a pleasure, though seeing the gentle fae woman so much in love with her human savior had reminded Gwyn of everything missing from her life.
Lily was one of the lucky few who had found happiness and a life after slavery, but Gwyn knew how rarely such things happened. Countless slaves had come and gone from this place over her time here, and most of their stories ended with suffering and death.

  The master wanted a full recounting of her day, and by the time she had finished her report and presented him with the king’s payment, the last rays of the sun were fading from the sky.

  “You may go now. Once you have eaten, I want you to check on the new arrival and continue his instruction. The apprentice’s report indicates he is an excellent fighter. He will be sold to the fight pits. You will teach him what he needs to know and then deliver him to his new master once negotiations are complete.”

  She nodded, careful to keep her voice and expression neutral, hiding her relief. “Yes, master. I will see it done.”

  Despite being hungry, Gwyn decided to check on Vamir before eating. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him all day, and she knew it was more than just her hope that he could give her the answers she sought. Learning about her family and home had nothing to do with the comfort of being in his arms or the deep rumble of his voice.

  His cell door was locked, but there wasn’t a lock in the citadel resistant to her magic. She opened it with a simple wave of her hand. “I’ve been sent to continue your education, Vamir.”

  Silence answered her, and she pushed the door open a few inches wider, revealing a smeared pool of blood on the stone floor. Gwyn didn’t bother calling out again. She threw open the door and rushed inside. Vamir was sprawled facedown across his pallet, and the damage she could see made her gorge rise in her throat. His was covered in bruises and cuts, some of them still bleeding. His shirt was gone, and the pants he wore were tattered and bloodstained.