All Through The Knight - M. Jade Glock (the beach read .TXT) 📗

himself. Though Nealan respected the man he still had issues with authority figures. 

Nealan crossed his arms over his chest and rubbed his shoulders as he thought further. Instead of continuing with the thoughts of Aracane he moved on to Moonrise's strange behavior. Moonrise had fled the room when Aracane had walked into it. He thought this very odd and couldn't come up with any way to explain it. His curiosity almost consumed him about not knowing what was going on.

Nealan's eyes became heavier and his mind began to slow. His thoughts became muddled and soon it was too hard to keep a conscious idea in his head. He didn't even make it to the bed that stood just a few feet behind him. Instead he fell asleep in front of the warm fire that gave him so much comfort.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Aracane was thoroughly confused, but the most prominent of her emotions was fear. The situation before her was something all too familiar, and not in any pleasant ways. She fully expected the man in front of her to lay his hands on her in the most inappropriate fashion. 

"You don't have to be afraid of me." He tried to coax her into a state of complacency, a state of mind that she was unable and unwilling to revert into. 

She didn't even bother answering the man, instead she just pulled her knees up to her chest, burying her face in between them. The man poked and prodded the fire more vigorously now, she couldn't tell if it was out of anger or the awkwardness of the situation. All that she knew was that his muscles became visibly tense and ridged. Though, noticing even that much came as a surprise to her. Her chest was tight and constricted, it felt as if her ribs could completely squeeze the breath out of her lungs and the life out of her heart. Hot tears began to form in her eyes as her anxiety built upon itself. She forced herself to focus, to take in his every breath and movement. But her overwhelming emotions were getting the best of her. She could not take control of her own emotions, much less focus on the man across the room. She breathed in and out, slowly and shakily. 

The mission was to breath. Her attempt to calm herself crumbled into dust when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She snapped her head up, her eyes connecting with the man that sat beside the fire, only moments ago. The tears flowed more vigorously and violently from her eyes. The man was taken aback by the young woman's sudden tearful outburst, and was even more clueless as to what to do about the impending situation. He didn't know what to do or say, but it didn't matter. Aracane's body was present in the current reality, but her mind was gone, delving into long ago memories that she had done her best to keep from resurfacing ever again. She could not have been more than fourteen years old.

She sat on the bed in her chambers, a place that should have made her feel safe, providing refuge or a safe haven from the evil's of the outside world. But that wasn't meant to be. She heard footsteps coming up the stairs that lead to her room. Her anxiety grew ten fold. Her chest ached, her body trembled in fear, her blood went cold and she could feel the color drain from her face. She could hear the footsteps stop in front of her door. Her breath caught in her throat, forming a bitter lump, as her chamber door began to open. The man slipped inside, closing the door swiftly and quietly behind him. He crossed the room towards her bed, taking off each item of his clothing along the way. Aracane tried to scream, but he roughly covered her mouth with his hand, bringing a knife to her throat. He whispered to her in a low growl.

"One sound out of you and I will slit your throat. No one will miss a whore like you."

Tears streamed down her face, but she made no further attempts to make any noise. He grabbed her and threw her onto her stomach and had his way with her. Pain seared through her body, but she bit her lip, holding in her cries, until she broke through her own skin. Blood began to seep into her mouth as her assaulter did as he pleased with her. She prayed for it to be over, to please let the pain stop, but it felt never ending as the pain that racked her body escalated. Her screams that she held in wanted to force their way out of her throat and break free of her lips making it uncontainable. But just when she couldn't hold in her violent protests he released.

Bile formed in her throat as she realized fully what just happened to her. The man let go of her, got dressed, and left without saying a word. Aracane could barely move, everything hurt, so much. She couldn't help but cry. She was weak and knew it. In some ways she felt that if she really wanted for these nights to be put to an end she would strengthen herself to over power the men that came to visit her so late into the night. She burried her face into her pillow, letting her tears soak into the material. She was so helpless. 

Aracane pulled out of her memories. Feeling disoriented and dizzy, she threw up before her whole body collapsed to the floor as she fainted. This alarmed Moonrise to a great degree. Quickly he felt the base of her neck for a pulse. When he found it he breathed a sigh of relief. Moonrise then lifted the girl from the floor, placing her in his bed. He pulled the covers over her exhausted body. 

"You are a peculiar one," he thought to himself. He crossed the room to lay by the fire, and soon fell asleep while being warmed by the blaze. 

Chapter IV

Nealan was awoken rather suddenly by a knock at his chamber doors. Agitated, he got up from the floor in front of the fireplace, the embers no longer producing any significant heat. Grogy and irritated, he practically stumbled and could not seem to keep his balance as he walked to the door that would not stop eminating such loud and horrible sounds. Rubbing his eyes with his pointer finger and thumb he opened the door to his chambers to reveal a rather attractive young woman. 

Her attire suggested the she was a coutier with the way it modestly hugged her breasts and hips, accentuating her torso, then falling to the ground in elegant pleates. Her ornaments only served to balance the outfit. As he gazed at her, she looked at him before immediately fixating her eyes on the floor before her, a pinkish red pigment revealing itself on her soft alabaster cheeks. 

Nealan took notice of this and was confused for only a moment before realizing that he had went to bed with nothing but his bottom undergarments. Though he did not waiver, he was in no way, shape, or form, embarrassed of his body. 

"Let her be embarrassed," he thought, a mental smirk spreading wide across his mind. 

"I apologize, your highness, I did not realize you had not awoken yet."

"No need to be embarrassed by my physique. Have you never seen a man's body before?" He completely disregarded her statement and apology. Nealan was known for his messing with various women, and the one before him would be no different. He took a step towards her, gently ceasing her chin between his soft fingers, fingers that had never known any true hard labor. He forced her to look at him. 

"Have you ever shared a man's bed before?" A seductive smile twisted the edges of his lips upwards. His question was suggestive and more of an invite rather than a prod. She jerked herself out of his grasp, though her blush remained on her cheeks. 

"I should have never come here. I apologize, my prince. I will be on my way."

And with that she hurridely made her way down the hall before Nelean could make any true action. 

He simply stood in the doorway to his room and shrugged

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Publication Date: 06-15-2012

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