“Oh no,” she murmured, reaching out again, and he quailed, but she only stroked his hair. “We’re keeping you. Our little pet. When you aren’t serving him, you’ll serve his harem.” She tipped her head. “Do you know how to cook? They’re mostly quite lovely, but none of those ninnies knows how to cook.”

“I don’t,” he cleared his throat, “I don’t know how to cook.”

“That’s all right.” Her gaze moved down his body, and a sick smile curved her lips. “You have other uses.”

“I want his mouth,” the creatures deep, velvet voice sounded.

He was like a godly seraph.

And yet, he was a monster.

That smile remained in place as she studied the priest. “He has a quick recovery. And he can come, and come, and come.” She rolled her eyes with exaggeration before she bent over him. “And wait until you see what else he can do when he is not bound to this under-realm. He has such power, such awesome power. And not just with his cock.”

“You are wasting a great resource,” he tried. “I am—”

“Yes,” she sat back on her heels, “who are you?”

“G’Jell of the Go’Doan.”

“No, you aren’t. That’s the name they gave you when they stripped you of who you were so you could be theirs. Who are you?”

“Jellan of Airen,” he whispered a name he hadn’t spoken in decades.

“And you are a great sorcerer?” she asked.

“Yes. Yes, I am. I have much power,” he told her fervently.

“No.” She shook her head. “No, you don’t. You did. But like those girls, all those many girls over the centuries, you have nothing anymore, Jellan. As they were pushed to the point they wished they were dead, you will be pushed to the same. Except your torment will last a great deal longer.”

She then stood, nodded to the Beast, moved toward the opening the other women disappeared through, and he moved toward G’Jell.

Jell scuttled away, but he was caught by the hair at the top of his head, yanked up in a way that caused excruciating pain in his scalp, and then he was force fed cock.

And thus, his torment continued.

77

The Sacred Horn

Melisse

Northwestern Border of the Veil of The Enchantments

WODELL

Gagged, bound, her shoulder having been dislocated somewhere along the way, not having had but minimal water or food for days, Melisse was tossed to the ground within feet of the veil of The Enchantments.

There were a number of men in this party.

Too many of them.

By the goddess, how had they missed this many Go’Doan conspirators?

She was woozy. Concerned about her head wound, dehydrated and ravening, often traveling belly down on the back of a horse, and when she wasn’t, she’d been sequestered with a guard.