Free 20 Years Later by Emma Newman

he replied, immediately annoyed at his voice not sounding as deep as he wanted.
    â€œMmmm, yes. Let him go, Luthor. I want to see his face.”
    The pressure lifted from the back of his head and Zane finally did as he craved, but slowly, now fearful that the sight of her wouldn’t match the promise of her voice.
    Three more polished wooden steps came into view, then a slender foot, wrapped in a sandal of thin strands of leather that crisscrossed their way up the smooth, shapely leg above it. Then red silk, draping its way across to cut off the upward track of his eyes. Unable to stop, he drank in the rest of her like a thirsty man would sweet wine.
    The Red Lady sat at the top of the dais in a throne-like chair so wide that she half lay across it, accentuating the curve of her hips and her slim waist. Her long, straight hair framed her face like rich satin, a deep blonde with occasional auburn streaks. Her eyes looked back at him, hinting at something playful yet dangerous. Their colour reminded him of spring leaves with sunlight filtered through them. Her skin was flawless, creamy, and smooth, as if made to be touched. Hewanted to rush forward and run his hands over her arms, left bare by the silken red dress that alternately draped and clung to her in all the right places. It was held up by two thin straps that looked as if they may slip off her shoulders at any moment, and without even realising it, he wished that they would. When he saw the deep cleft between her breasts, his mouth went dry, and in that moment he decided that if he ever saw another woman again, she couldn’t possibly be as beautiful as the Red Lady.
    She watched him, amused, as he blinked and his mouth hung open. Her full, red lips curved into a slow smile and she allowed him a few moments more before saying, “You act as if you’ve never seen a woman before.”
    â€œI haven’t,” Zane replied stupidly, and then hastily added, “I mean, not one that wasn’t Mum. Miri, I mean … she’s my mum.”
    Her smile melted into a brief laugh that in his stupor reminded Zane of melodious birdsong. “I know.”
    He remained silent, watching her eyes slowly move up and down him as she seemed to study him, appraising him as one might a fruit tree that needed to be pruned. He became painfully aware of how small he seemed in comparison to Luthor.
    â€œZane’s a strange name. Were you named after someone?”
    He wished he could tell her he was named after some kind of great hero, but all he could truthfully reply was, “I don’t know.”
    â€œNo matter.” She caught a wisp of hair in her fingers and twisted it. “Luthor, you never told me how handsome Miri’s son has become.”
    Zane heard the leather of Luthor’s armour creak as he tensed at the comment. Zane smiled to himself. Handsome! She said he was handsome!
    â€œLeave us now.” She waved a hand dismissively at the huge man as she would a stray dog. He paused, as if needing a moment to understand the unexpected command. When he didn’t immediately obey, the Red Lady’s eyes flicked to him and it only took a moment of her glare to make him bow deeply and reluctantly withdraw.
    She watched him leave and then her attention fell back on Zane.
    â€œSo what do you think of my Hunters?”
    Zane fumbled for words, most of them having been pushed out of his mind by the vision of her. “Um … they’re very strong.”
    She smiled. “I like my men to be strong. And big.”
    Zane thought of his skinny arms and legs and sighed to himself.
    â€œI would think,” she began slowly, continuing to torment the strands of hair caught on her finger, “that you would like to be big and strong one day too.”
    He nodded rapidly, completely unaware of how transparent he was.
    â€œPerhaps you could be big and strong enough to be one of my Hunters.”
    Zane nodded again. “Yes,