The castle in the mountains shuddered like an earthquake. In his heart, in a small room, a young girl kneeled at the bed. She prayed. And she trembled together with the castle.
The noise of the battle did not reach her, but the girl knew that there were enemies outside.
After a week's break they attacked again. They will win or be thrown away - she doesn't care. If the invaders do not torture them after the battle, the owner of the castle is himself.
She feared him a thousand times more than the attackers she had never seen before. When they finally get what they want - to wipe the castle off the face of the earth - will it be worse for them than all the months of captivity? What could be worse than what he does to her when he comes to her prison after every fight?
He was with her two nights ago. Then everything was different. Careful, sluggish. The owner of the castle and her fate were not always cruel. Where he was often tender, passionate and caring. Like the night before yesterday.
Then he brought them into a burning frenzy of skilful caresses. He was a gentle lover and a sought-after man. I brought her a dress made of the finest silk - she had never seen such a wonderful fabric in her native fishing village before. It seemed that the fabric itself stroked and excited the body, just as it stroked and excited the man's fingers.
He let her dance slowly in this dress in front of him, and at the end remove it slowly, expose a young body in front of him and hand it over - hot and willing. Makes him forget the pain caused by his intimacy on other nights. On the night of the witchfights. Like this one here.
The fisherman's daughter did not understand magic. Her master, her kidnapper, didn't think it necessary to explain why she was kidnapped from the sea village and dragged to the castle, where you can't walk. They locked her up in four walls, in the power of a man who stroked her and then tortured her.
All she knew was that he was a magician. The strongest, the most important of them, who obeys him. They call themselves the Order of Randu, and he is his Grand Master.
They have enemies. Another magical order, just as strong and powerful. For fourteen years they have besieged this castle - the residence of the Randu order - to destroy their rivals forever. To remain the only magical order on this land.
The Randu Order resisted. And the strongest of them all - the Grand Master. He was strong and powerful. One could resist the hordes of enemy magicians.
But his power, his magic did something to him, why he came here after every magical battle and tormented the girl. How many of these nights will she survive? What will they do with her when her weak body can't take it anymore? What happened to those who were in this room before her?
She was only here for a few months. And the castle was besieged for fourteen years. A large wardrobe was used to store women's clothing of various sizes and shapes. Who owned it? Where did those who wore it go?
At dawn the walls stopped trembling. This meant that the enemies had gone. Everything calmed down and was quiet. The calm before the storm.
He came in a quarter of an hour later. The large, broad-shouldered figure overshadowed the doorway. It was as if the room had shrunk, and each piece of inner life had become smaller in the presence of this man. So frightening. Such an attraction in other moments. Now there was no attraction anymore - only fear.
The girl was afraid to raise her eyes, to see his face. On other evenings he smiled at her. In the night, full of bliss and sweet tiredness. There was much more than nights full of witchcraft and torment.
But today there will be no strokes or grass. The darkness came out of his eyes. The girl put her arms around her head and began to sob.
The man sighed. What would happen did not make him happy at all. He himself would have loved her. Hostile attacks and deadly dangers did not reduce his male desire. On the contrary, they warmed him up.
The fisherman's daughter was drawn like a woman who cared for his male nature. But the attraction was only a means. And the purpose of her connection was completely different. For such nights you need a girl.
The man approached the bed resolutely, grabbed the prisoner by the shoulders, jerked on his feet.
- Take off your clothes, Tesso. On the bed. Don't fight it - it's easier for you.
An hour later he left Tesso's bedroom. The poor girl cried on the bed in a semi-sensual state. The man was irritated. He could no longer fully use Tesso without inflicting fatal damage on her. As a result of the discharge, the recoil remained in him, weighing and bubbling, threatening to snap.
He cursed violently.
- Mark? - He heard the voice of a cautious woman next to him. - How are you?
Of course it wasn't Tesso who was locked in his room. One of his co-workers, the magician of the Order of Randu.
I wanted to swear even more. Now he didn't want to see anyone anymore or talk to anyone. The unshakeable recoil bubbled inside and caused anger and rage. He could have turned anyone on. Even his closest co-workers. To them - not at all.
- It's disgusting," he went without ceremony. - Tesso was exhausted. She must be replaced.
- You're getting old," said the woman. - You didn't care if the girls were exhausted or not. You used them to the extreme.