Free Wings by J. C. Owens

praying for release, praying for it to stop—or not. He could no longer think, only
    feel. His body tensed until he thought he could not breathe, could not survive another moment.
    The force of the wave rolled over him, drowned him.
    He screamed—or was it only a whimper?—his body convulsing around the spear inside
    him. And Vanyae threw back his head and shouted his triumph, his seed bathing Anyar deep
    within, branding him with its heat, marking him as the prince's possession…
    His slave.

    48
    J. C. Owens

    Chapter Five

    Vanyae watched his little bedmate sleep; with gentle fingers, he traced the golden skin. He
    had thought that maybe taking Anyar, satisfying his lust, would free him from the attraction he
    felt. Instead, it felt greater, more potent.
    He slowly pulled his hand away and rolled onto his back, his lips thinning as the younger
    man whimpered and curled closer to his warmth. He stared up into the darkness and wished, for
    the first time, that he had never laid eyes on the boy, for both their sakes. Some part of him
    wanted more from Anyar than Nazarian culture would allow. Somehow, he had to get this boy
    out of his system.

    * * * * *
The great hall was hot and oppressive, the huge doors shut against the storm that raged
    outside. Smoke from the fireplaces swirled about just under the roof, light from the torches
    making it look like mist before it finally was sucked out the wooden vents.
    Laughter and argument rose and fell, and servants rushed about to supply enough drink to
    suit the profusion of lords and ladies who gathered that night for feast.
    Slaves lined the walls, some kneeling, some standing, attentive to their masters' and
    mistresses' needs. Favored ones knelt by their owners, often fed by hand, a sign of great favor.
    Anyar leaned away from the hands that pawed at him, curling closer in on himself as he
    half knelt, half lay between Vanyae's legs.
    “Come on, Vanyae. I only want a quick taste of him. You've kept him to yourself for the
    last bloody two months. Share a little.”
    Hard hands grasped Anyar's shirt, pulled him from safety, and Anyar stared in terror at the
    grinning face of the man who yanked him up, covered his mouth with his, and tried to penetrate
    his clamped lips.

    Wings
    49

    He growled in sudden fury and bit.
    The hold was loosened, and he fell back as his tormenter touched his bitten lip in open
    disbelief.
    Anyar pressed himself back against Vanyae, his master seeming a safe haven compared to
    the brute before him. He growled again, unable to control himself, his eyes never leaving the
    man.
    Blood on his fingers, the man looked at him in shock, which soon turned to fury. He
    reached, only to have his wrist taken in an unbreakable hold.
    “Keep your hands to yourself, Bayner, and you will not know his bite. You provoked him.”
    Vanyae's tone held steel.
    “I thought you said he was tamed. The little bastard is a menace. A dangerous little
    menace.” Bayner's voice vibrated with anger and a certain disbelief that the little Melanian slave
    would have the guts to attack him.
    “He is dangerous to those who mishandle him. Leave him alone and he will leave you
    alone.” Vanyae grew teasing. “Use your own little slave, Bayner. He is more your type. I like
    mine wild.”
    Bayner touched his lip again and glared at Anyar. “So I see. You should keep him gagged
    so he cannot bite another, my prince. They will demand retribution if it should happen. You are
    lucky I am a friend. You should take his wings; that would settle him.”
    “Any who touch him without my permission have only themselves to blame for what
    occurs. I will warn others when they come, then, if you think it necessary.”
    “Little beast,” Bayner muttered, casting a last venomous glance at the Melanian slave.
    Vanyae only smiled, his fingers gently stroking Anyar's wings where they folded tightly
    against his leg, where his little slave had taken refuge.
    Their talk turned to other things,