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Own to Obey Page 7


  “Tes ni choya detta mthnoy, kysm eshar,” came the low rumble from the shinno.

  She blinked up at him and his gaze was one she could not decipher, nor did she care to. She turned to look at the ocean, but a low growl came from his throat and he leaned her back into him.

  She cried out as her shoulder squeezed against him, pain exploding through the whole joint and down her chest, chasing away the euphoria she had been enjoying.

  The shinno froze, a frown entering his face. He gently prodded her shoulder, but she cried out again and hissed at him with annoyance. He ignored her, slowly looking over her whole body and then back to her shoulder.

  Then he got up, holding her carefully, and turned away from the beautiful ocean. As he led her away, she wondered if it was the final time that she would ever see it.

  ***

  By the time he arrived at her cabin, Shaya was once again drowsy. The shinno ensured he had not jolted her body as he walked, and so she could almost forget how much pain she was in. But as he placed her down on the bed, her limbs all cried out in protest and her shoulder practically screamed. He left the room and she gingerly lifted her arms, wriggled her toes and tried to roll her shoulders back to see where the pain was emanating from. The soreness in her legs was more like an ache now, as though she had been tending to her garden the day before. Her hands and arms were still extremely painful from hanging on the deck and the tea-making punishment, but her shoulder felt as though it could have been bruised deep within.

  Before she could consider it further, the shinno returned with jars, bottles, and a number of different types of materials. He set them on the bed next to her and then lowered to kneel before her.

  Shaya was taken aback that he was on his knees in front of her, and how close he leaned into her, but she didn’t have time to think about it for long. The shinno began to lift off her tunic.

  Immediately, she thought to resist, but even if she tried, the pain in her body was too much, she couldn’t do it. And then she wondered why she was bothering. She had already known that he would do whatever he wanted to her, and she would have to take it. If he was going to try to use her while she was suffering, it was simply another thing that she had to try to survive. She kept herself limp, trying to send her mind somewhere else as he pulled off her tunic and underclothes, revealing her torso to him.

  Surprisingly, he did not touch her breasts, but instead started examining her shoulder—the one that hurt. Using her elbow, he lifted her arm and rotated it as she cried out in pain.

  Once he was satisfied with whatever he had seen, he grabbed some of the jars and bottles and opened them. The potent smell of the substances within the jars drew her attention. They seemed familiar, like the herbs and plants from her garden she had used to create potions, tinctures, and balms over the years. She had spent significant time mixing different types of natural substances she had found in the garden, from dews, fresh and dried herbs, fruit and leaves, to rainwater that had dripped through the leaves of certain plants. There were countless days experimenting, creating different creams and oils, some with Kyus’ guidance and experience, and some experimenting with what she had available to her. Kyus always joked she should be careful in case she mixed any of the potions into their food, but it wasn’t that different from creating a recipe, experimenting, tweaking, and then trying again. Along with Kyus’ ability to use magic, she had created some pretty powerful potions that Kyus had used on some of her missions.

  Shaya peered into the jars that the shinno had opened, sniffing as she recognized rosemary, bitter bark oil, lemonseed root and—

  She cried out as the shinno applied a cold substance into her shoulder, stiffening at the shock and pain of it. “That hurts,” she snapped at him, before she realized what she was saying and who she was saying it to.

  The shinno studied her face and the corner of his mouth tilted up as he continued to apply pressure to rub in the cream.

  She turned her head away and gritted her teeth as he continued. Obviously he was trying to treat her, and there was no way to do that without applying some pressure, but it hurt so much. She wondered if it was broken, and how she would know whether it was or simply badly bruised. She had been throwing the same shoulder at the walls in the box-room. It wasn’t unreasonable to think that she may have broken it.

  Once the shinno finished with the cream, he applied oil, which was just as painful. She gripped the sheets of the bed, tears stinging, wondering when it would be over, but trying to stay as still as possible so that it wouldn’t hurt more.

  Finally, he finished and began to spray something on her. She narrowed her eyes at the tiny bottle he used. Every time he pressed the top, a mist was ejected that coated her shoulder with yet another substance that she’d probably be able to identify if allowed time to examine it, but was simply glad that he wasn’t touching her anymore.

  Once that was over, she hoped that he would leave, ignoring the fact that her nipples were hard and she was still wet between her legs, but he picked up a soft, white padded square of material and fastened it over her shoulder, then began to slowly wrap another piece of material around her upper arm over her shoulder and around her neck until the whole area was securely covered.

  Instantly, the pressure made her shoulder feel much better. She breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that the pain had lessened, but the shinno wasn’t finished.

  Opening a new jar, he rubbed a thinner cream between his hands and massaged it into the sore muscles of both her arms and each hand, his thick fingers pressing into them deeply. It didn’t ache as much as her shoulder but she still winced and stiffened at the treatment.

  As he massaged her, the shinno watched, his eyes trained on her face as though trying to detect her thoughts through her expression. Shaya could barely stand it—his attention felt oppressive, as it always did. She didn’t want to be seen, and he always wanted to ensure that she was, even if only by him.

  Finally he rose to his feet, gathered the bottles and potions and placed them on the desk. He then poured water into one of the glasses on the desk, tipped a drop of something into it from one of the smaller bottles, and gave it to her.

  Shaya gulped down the cool water and handed it back to him without hesitation. She suspected he had given her something for the pain, but even if it was something else, so what? There was little he could give her that could make things worse than they were now.

  The shinno stood and watched her for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face and then gathered up all the bottles and left the room.

  ***

  No one entered her room again for the rest of the day, and a drowsiness came over her quickly after the shinno left. Her shoulder made it extremely difficult to lie down without pain, and even when she lay on her left side, twinges of pain still shot through her right, but eventually it dulled.

  She slept somewhat comfortably until she woke naturally the next morning, and was surprised no one had come to wake her. Pushing herself upright, she slowly made her way to the washroom. Afterward, she found she had nothing to do. She tried fixing her bedsheets, but it was difficult with her shoulder. With nothing for her to read or to do, she ended up pacing the room, humming a tune that Kyus sang to her in her childhood when she needed comforting and wondering what day it was back in DarFara. If it was market day she would be planning a trip to see her favorite market traders, perhaps get some fresh fish, and collect new jars and bottles for her potions, as she did every week. It was the one day she spoke to multiple people, usually her conversations were with her sister and the very few servants that visited the house.

  The door to her cabin opened and the girl who always helped her came hurrying in, her arms full with sheets of parchment, books, scrolls, jars, and bottles. She headed for the desk and Shaya rushed to help her, but could only do so much with one arm.

  Once everything was placed down, the girl gestured for Shaya to sit on the bed and she knelt on the floor before her, like the
shinno had done, and looked over Shaya’s shoulder carefully. Then her eyes rose to meet Shaya's.

  “Are. You well,” she mumbled, haltingly.

  Surprise slammed into Shaya and her brows shot up. Her mouth dropped open, and instantly tears stung her eyes at the sound of the language she had not heard from anyone else in so long. “You speak the Common Tongue?” she said, her voice lowered to a whisper, so much hope pouring into her. “You speak my language?”

  The girl shook her head. “Not well. I learn when we leave for your land.”

  Shaya exhaled in relief and then released a nervous laugh that expelled the tension that had twisted her stomach. It didn't matter how broken the girl’s Common Tongue was, the fact was, she spoke it and could understand Shaya! She resisted throwing her arms around the girl, mainly because her shoulder still hurt, but also she didn't want to scare her off. “Why didn't you tell me before,” she said, in a hushed tone, almost frightened that the girl would not speak again.

  The girl shook her head. “The shinno says no words unless Mayaros.”

  Shaya exhaled, nodding. Of course he would have told her that rule. “Then why are you speaking to me now?”

  “You—” the girl paused, searching for the correct words. “—you suffer in the black.”

  The black. The black room. Shaya’s face dropped, and she nodded, her eyes lowering as a tingle of shame embraced her, but the girl’s hands found hers and she glanced back up at her.

  “I too,” the girl said, her eyes wide with sympathy.

  She smiled at her, the tears that had gathered in her eyes overflowing with a small bit of joy that she had found a connection with someone in this terrible situation that she was in. “What's your name?”

  “Treska.”

  “I'm Katashaya.”

  The girl nodded, and her eyes drifted back to see a shoulder. She pointed to it. “Shinno say I treat.” She looked up at Shaya, her eyes inquiring and her brows raised. And she realized she was actually asking a question. Shaya nodded. “It is painful. I was trying to get out… of the black.”

  The girl nodded. She raised her own arms, and Shaya saw scars all over her forearms. She lifted a finger to touch them, and then paused, but the girl nodded.

  “How did this happen?” she asked as she traced the scars. Some of them long, others short nips, but it was clear that her arms had been attacked by something.

  “Three days in black,” the girl said to her solemnly.

  Three days! So maybe she inflicted the scars herself—scratched at her own body in order to try and escape the strain of it. The horror on Shaya's face must have been extreme, because the girl’s shoulder’s lowered. Shaya rubbed her arm and squeezed. “You survived longer than I,” she said, trying to be reassuring. “I was only in there for a few moments and…” Her breath quickened at the thought of it and she shuddered.

  The girl nodded. “Yes.” She rose to her feet. “I will treat,” she repeated again gesturing to Shaya’s shoulder before heading over the desk.

  Picking up a number of materials and jars, she headed back to the bed and made Shaya remove her tunic. She undid the bandage that the shinno had wrapped. As the bandage loosened, the pain increased in her shoulder, but she gritted her teeth and bore it, recognizing that it was at least better today than it was the day before.

  After gingerly rubbing the various creams and oils over her shoulder, just as potent as the ones the shinno used, the girl rewrapped her shoulder tightly and then gave her a glass of cool liquid to drink. It was the same as what the shinno gave her, so it must be for the pain.

  Then, the girl returned and sat on the bed next to her and gathered up the parchment she had placed on the bed. She set a piece of parchment between her and Shaya. “Map of the Isles,” she said haltingly. “You must learn if you are joining Nyek.”

  Shaya shook her head. “I am not joining Tribe Nyek.”

  The girl stilled. “The shinno says I teach you.”

  Shaya shook her head, determination filtering through her. “I will not learn. I will not be a part of this culture.” She turned her eyes on the girl. “He is cruel. He is mean and he has hurt me.”

  The girl's eyes widened. “He is not mean, he treat you. Himself.”

  “I would not have needed treatment if he hadn’t put me in the box-room.” But even as she said it, she recalled the girl’s own injuries. Maybe she thought that was normal, the price of not listening, or learning, or paying attention. But for Shaya it was an unbelievably cruel punishment that no one should have to endure.

  “I must teach,” the girl insisted. “You must learn.”

  Shaya shook her head firmly. She was not doing anything else the shinno wanted. She had tried her best and it mattered not whether she struggled or whether she found things easy, he found a way to make her suffer anytime he could, whether it was with his cock down her throat, hanging her from the deck like she was some kind of slab of meat to be dried, or torturing her by locking her up in a box that was small even by the standards of an Omega. Anything else he wanted her to do, she would not do it willingly. She would still ensure that she did not break, but she would not be happily running into any situation that she did not want to be in again. It was one thing to offer to come in place of her sister, and try her best to ensure that she did everything he wanted, but it was quite another for him to torture and degrade her the way he had.

  Treska looked perplexed and a little lost at Shaya’s refusal. But Shaya’s mind was firm. She got up and walked to the other side of the bed. “Tell him I refused,” she said to the girl as she climbed in. “Tell him I said no.”

  When she woke again, the girl was gone but she had left the parchment and scrolls and all the other things she had brought with her on the desk. Shaya used the washroom and then continued strolling in her room, her thoughts solely focused on planning her day as if she were at home.

  She realized that she didn’t like being in her room for long periods either. It didn’t feel as bad as the box-room, but a certain anxiety came over her at the idea she had to remain in it for hours, so she thought of her home.

  She was so caught up in her thoughts, she didn't notice that the door had opened and the shinno had entered. She turned, as she hummed her bland tune, then stopped dead as she came across him.

  She watched him evenly, wondering if he would be unbuckling his pants or bellowing at her for not accepting the training that he had clearly told her she must take, but he did neither. Striding toward her, he lifted her again into his arms and carried her out of the room.

  Shaya curled herself into him wondering why he insisted on carrying her this way. Did he carry every woman or just her? And why? She was completely capable of walking.

  The coolness of the ocean breeze caressed her skin, tempering down her annoyance, and her mood lifted at the sight of the ocean before her. The shinno strode across the deck, toward a wide chair that sat on a platform higher than the rest of the deck. When he climbed up and stood before the chair, she recognized the position—it was where they had stood in when she first saw the ocean.

  And it was still as captivating as it had been the first time and everything faded away as she stared at it. Today it looked more blue than green, and the sky above had less clouds, allowing wide stretches of beautiful blue to peek through.

  Shaya took a deep breath and as she exhaled, she relaxed.

  She wasn't sure how long they stood watching the ocean, but when she glanced at the shinno, his eyes were also on the horizon. The expression on his face seemed to match what she felt, an indescribable feeling of watching something so raw and uncontrolled, something beyond anything anyone else could do or be, and in that moment, a warmth flooded her for him. She had always felt a closer kinship with anyone who appreciated the natural marvels of nature, but just as the thought ran through her, his eyes slid down to her, and the feeling transmuted into something else, something hot and wild… something that she did not want to feel.

 
She tore her eyes from his and return to looking at the ocean, feeling him lower to sit in the chair, but keeping her eyes focused on the chaotic waves.

  She wasn't surprised when his hands began to stroke her ass as soon as he sat; she wasn't surprised as he rubbed her legs; she wasn't surprised when he slipped his hands between her legs and sought out that nub that made her lose control in his arms. Because she was already wet, her nipples were already aching for him from the moment he picked her up. She couldn't understand the reaction, but she had come to expect it. He had an ability to control and do things to her that couldn't be explained by any conversation she recalled having with Kyus.

  This time, he balanced her body on both of his thick legs and used his other hand to pull up her tunic to her neck, exposing her bare torso to him. Wrapping his arm back around her, he lifted her upper body up to him so he could close his warm mouth over her breast.

  It was incredible.

  The suction of his wet mouth, the twirling of his tongue on her nipple coupled with his expert strokes between her legs brought the pleasure rushing into her quicker than she could have ever imagined. Her head rolled as her body writhed, and when that familiar rumble came from his throat, she looked up at him. He held her eyes as he released her and said, “Tes ni choya detta mthnoy, kysm eshar,” before returning his mouth to her breast.

  The hunger in his eyes was what she had always seen when he looked at her. She had thought it was because his own desires were being met that made him look at her that way, but there was no obvious gratification he was getting, other than having her completely at his mercy to pleasure however he pleased. And as the orgasm ripped through her, tearing a scream from her throat, and jostling her body with such ferocity that her shoulder ached, the thought of that gratifying him satisfied her more deeply than she wanted it to.

  ***

  The next few days seem to repeat themselves over and over.

  Shaya woke naturally, without anyone interrupting her sleep, washed and then paced the room thinking of the life that she had left behind. Treska arrived around midday, with her lunch and always tried to encourage her to learn about Southern culture. She started off by asking about words in the Common Tongue to write in her own little book, and then quickly transpired to pointing to items and saying the name in her language, Mayaros, or correcting Shaya when she said thank you to yettsyrm, which meant the same thing in Mayaros. But Shaya continued to firmly reject all attempted teaching.