The Prisoner’s Princess Chapter 106

Bryson

I was tied to the post with thick rope and a roll of leather placed in my mouth. The only problem was that I knew I could probably bite through said leather and snap said rope if I truly wanted, but I would play his little game. This wasn’t about power; this was about the show. I was uncomfortable with how tight my restraints were, and I couldn’t loosen them… this was magic.

I thought to try a little harder, but not so hard that others would think I was trying to escape… It wouldn’t budge. I was faced to my mate by one of the hyena shifters. Their Alpha female did Not like me. It trickled down to the others, but this one behaved it seemed in front of their superiors. I could see now that I faced the crowd in the arena, that they were placing bets on if I’d scream.

He was king, and as king he needed to show the others that he wouldn’t allow disruption, and also, I wasn’t a threat to his reign. They seemed ultimately satisfied looking down on me, but if I could help it, I wouldn’t participate in their spectacle any more than I had to.

“Wolves of the Council that sit at my left and my right.” Said the Wolf King, shirtless, yet battle-scarred more than me. The one across his chest looked particularly nasty. I didn’t really notice it with Grahkes because then he was covered in poison but this was perhaps my brother’s doing. He paused with his words as he walked to me would be intimidating to any other… but I didn’t feel pain. I could see my mate’s concern though… “I am here tonight to punish, and you are here to watch. I do not tolerate breaking of the law. However, for him there is an exception. And for him I will give him the 40 lashes as promised and not one more.”

He cracked the air for a test, and the pop could be felt. It was the first time I saw my wolf upset, and I knew why. I saw multiple flashing glints on the thick whip… Silver, along with the heavy scent of magic and burning wood…. He held a flaming multi-tailed whip… That was low. He would give 40 lashes, but I would have the meat ripped off me by the time he was done. Pain or not… this would damage my body.

He got behind me raising the whip slowly. I could hear the creak of the leather. I held my breath on the first crack. I said nothing, but Ven could not hold all the pain away as he usually does…. He yelped with the first lash, and I hissed as I breathed out at the residual sting.

There was a burn to it as he used his power to catch the whip of many tails ablaze. The wounds were cauterized on impact, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t bleed. I sweat into the cuts by the tenth strike, making it sting from the salt, and I finally gave him the small whine he wanted.

“Stop this!” Yelled Isabelle. I could hear her from the top, glass screened balcony box. “He’s had enough! You have your show!”

Her cries were more punishment than this… and I held my head down in shame. There was a numbness that washed over me by his 27th strike. I stopped counting, feeling nothing but a light tingle. I smelled burning flesh. He used his power proper… I knew it was ripping meat. I let out my breath, but I felt weak. It was by design that I felt nothing; it was Ven’s doing, but it didn’t mean that I wouldn’t lose the same amount of blood as before…

I coughed it, making the only other sound to escape my lips, but he still was not done. He had promised 40. If he wanted to stop, he could not go back on his words as King, and as Alpha I would not allow my punishment to be partial. My vision got blurry, but he stopped…. Only something felt a little off… I didn’t know what until I tried lifting my head… I couldn’t.

The shame of my failure ended. And when they cut my ropes, my body held no power. I fell in the dirt, coughing as I did so.

There was a loud groan, along with a low rumble I felt from the ground. I was picked up by someone, and slung over their shoulder. A hissing voice I somewhat recognized growled words I did not understand

“I punish him.” Said the King sternly. “Begone Snake, go slither at your master’s feet.”

The snarl of his deep gurgling hiss echoed off the stone of the arena. They shared more words, though now it was slightly more civil. “Bryson.” He said taking me only the gods knew where. I was passing out but I could hear a distinct flapping sound.

“I suppose you don’t understand English but you’re crushing my lungs.” I coughed. His grip was firm iron, and I heard my mate literally shriek in rage and fear that she would not let him take me.

“English.” He said with a nod, loosening his grip, but where we were headed, I had no idea.

We were still inside the castle, but he leaned me against the wall of the arena and pressed his horns to mine. “What are you doing?” I asked feeling a bit drained.

“Words.” He said gruffly, and his eyes flashed between different shades of red. “Forgive my feeding, I needed words.” He said with glowing red hands.

There were popping sounds as I could feel myself slipping. My eyes closed, and each time I saw my father… in his chair. He was livid, but rested a hand on his cheek. I tried moving, but it seemed my limbs were limp, meaning my body was at its limit. It would only make sense that I couldn’t handle the King, or my brother. I was still a man.

You are not. Said Ven. Shit… Mother asked me not to tell you that. He said sheepishly.

Tell me what? That I’m mommy’s special little boy? I tried joking, but he took offence.

Very funny. Mother told me not to tell you, so if you want to know details, ask her smart ass. He huffed proudly.

Like I knew how to summon mother. No one did. I actually would have liked to speak with her, but she was imprisoned, watched closely by the Lord of Light. That didn’t make sense to me either… Why would he go through so much trouble to imprison his own daughter?

I opened my eyes. It seemed I was in hell, in a red chair. It was in father’s castle, though this place looked a bit lighter. I looked around, feeling a hostile presence. He looked beyond upset with me. His eyes were flaming yet black, and there was a crimson red crown of flames between his horns. That was new. It had three points, with a black stone in the middle of the tallest point. He rested his knuckles on his cheek, sitting in a black throne.

“Flesh of my blood… they will suffer.” He snarled, and I sat up proper.

“No… I was punished for my mate’s sake… I bear these stripes in her name.” I said with pride, and when I blinked, he held his hand to my heart. His speed almost made me question if he were closer.

“Then I will honor your wishes …. But while you are here, I may as well thank you. I have created my own sun.” He pointed up… the sky was black as night, though there was a blazing red sun that held his symbol in the center like a thick black tattoo. “I don’t think I have the time to show you, but I have begun construction on a city for the repentant here. I have created a black wheat for bread, and grass for cattle… I have even taken the souls of sacrifices and given them purpose. Many are too innocent to kill, so instead they will run stores and make food or clothing. Human things if you will. I have the states of Iawee, Jentucky and Missoura to thank for this. Whenever anyone in these regions thank my wife… they thank me as well partially.” He smiled.

“Why not take more?” I asked.

“I do not need more… A twentieth is more than enough, and I will not take the food from my wife’s mouth.” He said with crossed arms, but his gaze softened. “I cannot expect you to know these things my cheated son, he who was meant to be the God of Retribution and Just Punishment. I can destroy… but to create takes a special kind of energy I cannot easily produce.”

“But I’m mortal.” I looked at clawed hands, and when I blinked, he had me high in the air. We seemed to float down, but I could see what he was talking about. Foundations were laid, and gigantic beasts plowed fields, others laid pipe for plumbing, and even the repentant souls were working.

“A grand cheat.” He stated firmly. He snapped his fingers, and we rode a black dragon like serpent. “You, your brother, and Asanguis were meant to be the gods of Retribution, Judgment, and Harvests. Reapers of evil men who got away with too much in life, and received no punishment, destroyer of putrid realms, and a reaper of men and corn… Mighty Higher gods, though you are all reduced to flesh. It breaks my heart.” He growled with flaming eyes.

“But my mother posed as Grace.” I retorted. “She lived a mortal life, and even a mate.”

“A cover, and a fallacy. A true god pretending to be mortal is still a god. If I serve you dirt on a silver platter, and underneath was bread; it would still be dirt, and the bread could be dusted off. The problem is when the dirt becomes mixed with the dough… then it isn’t only bread or dirt once you bake it anymore then now is it?” He chuckled.

“Ven mentioned something about mother telling him I wasn’t a man.” I asked while I figured I was here, maybe he would know.

He looked at me a long time, and reached into my body, pulling out some kind of image of a hammer. “I think he meant this. She made your god’s crest-brand herself… it’s very crude…” His hands held an aura of deep black as it floated in his hand, and he pursed his lips. “She hid an additional life inside…. She should not have done that. Be sure to offer her something if you do die Bryson.” He mumbled. “Lulliba already has a champion. What she has done will infuriate Arviel and she is beyond my reach as I cannot access the pantheon.”

“I don’t understand why.” I grumbled, and he raised a brow at me.

“If I still ruled with him, I would not care if she gave her son a god’s brand, being the son of two gods. I would care that she gives lives to mortals not her champion… it breaks the rules me and Arviel created. Life is meant to be precious, and incarnation rare…” he looked down at me, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Wear this with pride Bryson. If anyone asks, tell them I made this. This is more than just a tattoo. It is who you are. Cracked and aged as it may look.”

“Alright.” He held it up as it floated in his hand… it looked like a hammer inside a circle. It held a combination of my parents’ symbols in the large block that was the hammer’s head. The whole thing looked centuries old, but it was mine… it was something my mother gave me, and I would protect this.