Championship

Sex Wizards, Book 3

Alethea Faust

Published by Alethea Faust, 2023.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2023 Alethea Faust, LLC

All rights reserved.

Cover art by Jo O’Brien

Edited by Rebecca Scott

For every trans or gender non-conforming person who has felt fear recently. You're not fighting this fight alone. 

Acknowledgements

I’m going to try to keep this brief, but y’all are not making it easy! The outpouring of love for this series has been incredible, and I am so, so grateful to everyone who saw a series called “Sex Wizards” and decided to read it anyway.

First off, to Geo, who continues to be a huge source of inspiration and encouragement. Olbric would not be as bratty, and Dom would not be as kind without him. To Jo, for her love and support, humor, and endless Drag Race references, as well as her SCORCHING hot covers. Likewise, a huge thank you to Adelaide Blaike, whose friendship has been invaluable as we both cut through the weeds of indie authoring. Her ideas have helped make this story what it is, and she deserves a huge thanks for loving these kinky nerds as much as I do. To Lane Hinson, who patiently listened to me rant and still stepped in to help, not only with their excellent summarizing skills, but also with some truly amazing recipes. And as y’all are reading this opening scene, thank Nikolai Alexi because it wouldn’t exist without them!

Emeric Davis at Queerly Beloved Services also deserves my undying gratitude for acting as sensitivity reader for this story. Because of nim, this series is becoming more of the safe and inclusive place that I want it to be. Likewise, a huge thank you to Hypnostory for his input and advice on the chapter ‘Champion.’ I never want to perpetuate stigmas or incorrect stereotypes surrounding a kink, and the one used in that chapter is widely misunderstood.

As always, a huge thanks to Rebecca Scott for not only being one of my first readers, but for being my editor as well. Your input has been invaluable, and your patience while I work to get my shit together has been so, so appreciated. To learn how she can help your own writing endeavors, check out her website at www.bee-scott.com/editing.

Then there’s Sam O’Neill, who is responsible for helping me get my shit together. Thank you for all that you have done this last year. I’m not sure I would have gotten through it without you! And because of Sam’s efforts, I have a street and ARC team now, and in a very short span of time, y’all have earned my ETERNAL GRATITUDE. I couldn’t ask for a more incredible group of people, and I cannot overstate how much your support means to me. Thank you for everything <3

To my smutty pals Dakota Brown, Sierra Cassidy, Vera Valentine, Mx. Alix, Rebecca Rathe, El Copen, Blake Lockheart, Kate Hawthorne, Maggie Bonnet, Mila Sin, and Manueal Rouget, y’all are incredible, and I’m so grateful to know you.

I want to thank my readers, but specifically to B Scott, LBMatt, botanicalmysts, SortaVulcan, Lila, Cheryl Terra, "Cancassi's Favorite," Azamir, Nora, HypnoStory, Peter, B.K., Melody Diaz-Musgrave, Jill Rafferty, Jaye-Anne, Kate W, Anna Lea, Kristen, Jessica Syring, Charlie Osborne, Nicole Wurster, Jayne Fowler, Tyler Rose, Veronica Alvarez, Mila Sin, Gale B, Hadlee, Heat, Anna Slayton, Scott., Sax Mahoney, @lupaescosces on Tiktok, Liz Lane, Saibh, Annie Lynch, Read, Psy, Kathryn Noelle, Deimos B., Brock Mason, Alex, DevilAlice, Carmel, Mady, El Copen, Emily, Julchen, Lisa G., Jessi Larkins, Kayla, Lena S, Tiana Marie, Alyssa Leblanc, Phobos, fantasychica37, Kaytlyn, Alex Shide, Jen, Justin O'Connor, Monica Barner, Luna Daye, Nila K., N Carter, Katie H, Liz Antropie, Sunny, Josephine Maltese, Lark, Karina, Germaine Mooney, Kristina Swanson, RoverMaelstrom, Vroni Höcherl, Pup Emi, Blake Lockheart, Josh Stuck, Manuel Arvelo, Amy Haake, Arden, Liz Mayer, sylvershade, Nanette, Liz Z, Alexa G, Scout, Iauraha, Matt N, Rory J, Lady Grey, Laura R, Dr. Cheryl P., and Lena Klein.

Some of y’all have been my patrons since the very beginning, and I could not have gotten this far without your support. From the bottom of my filthy little heart, thank you <3

Author's Note

This queer erotic fantasy novel has a kink-based magic system, and, as such, contains explicit adult content. As this story crosses a wide range of kinks of varying degrees of intensity, applicable chapters will have a description at the top showing what type of play is included in the chapter as well as any other applicable warnings.

#

PLEASE NOTE A READER informed me that the original name I gave Arlon’s ethnic group has offensive roots. Racism against the Romani people persists, and I sincerely apologize for contributing to that by failing to do my research. I have since renamed this group to “Tinari,” and I have edited Initiation and Mastery to reflect this change. Going forward, this will be the name that is used in this series.

Previously...

After six months at the Crux, Dominai solidified his place as a skilled conduit and earned his mastery in divination. Yet his attempts to prove himself as an equally adept caster were thwarted when his spells ended up underpowered, grinding his studies to a halt. At Olbric’s prompting, Dom consulted Arlon, the Grandmaster of the Crux. Surmising that the casting issue might stem from a lack of confidence, Arlon collared Dom to help him work through his concerns.

Dom soon learned that being collared was no easy task. He was broken down and built back up, confronting his anxieties and people-pleasing tendencies while also getting intense instruction on the overlooked aspects of casting. Over the course of the week, Dom and Arlon’s relationship grew as they gained trust in each other as caster and conduit. And when Dom finally earned his freedom at the end of the week, Arlon left him with one last instruction: cast.

Despite his apprehensions, Dom rose to the challenge by casting in the schools that scared him. An evocation he created with Olbric helped him build his confidence while also alleviating Olbric’s niggling jealousy over Dom and Arlon’s relationship. Under the supervision of the quiet wizard Alix, Dom cast an enchantment with Ambra that tested his own tolerance for embarrassment.

However, the shadow of Diran Barclay still loomed over the Crux. With Diran’s non-detection spell holding strong, all attempts to find him through divination had failed. King Thermilious denied Arlon’s petition to question Diran’s captured associates, Lucien and Jaret, for his whereabouts. Fortunately, Allisande had an idea: if they could use the silver to contact the two wizards that Dom and Arlon had killed inside of the cave, they might be able to gain information about Diran’s location. To an extent, the plan worked – Dom contacted Virico, but the disgraced wizard gave him little information on where Diran was hiding. Dom emerged from the silver afraid to go back into it lest Virico’s vengeful spirit find him again.

In spite of the botched divination attempt, Dom had another suggestion. Diran may have been hiding behind a non-detection spell, but his mercenary, Isa, might not be. With a new target, Galiva, Allisande, and Margeurite set their Sight on her. Yet as the wizards continued their search, the Crux was rocked by an announcement from the King stating Jaret and Lucien’s execution would be public.

Seeing their victimizers brought to justice could have been the closure some of the Crux wizards needed, but that closure never came. The execution was disrupted by Garrett, who had been captured and enchanted on the road back from Immenbach by Diran. Garrett sprung the prisoners from the hangman’s noose and could have killed Arlon were it not for Dom’s intervention.

With the trust between the Kingdom of Straetham and its wizards fractured, the King ordered that Garrett be confined to the Crux. To protect his wizards from any more harm, either from Diran or the angry citizens, Arlon locked the Crux down. This left the wizards with little to do but come to terms with the escape of two of the people who had done so much harm to their numbers.

During the tense week, Alix asked Dom to walk him through a spell, the first the wizard had attempted since being recovered from Diran’s clutches. Dom also helped Cancassi get a good night’s rest before reporting back to Arlon about the subdued and anxious mood that persisted through the Crux by keeping the towers locked down. Dom finally managed to convince the Grandmaster to lower the Crux’s shields before Arlon loaned him out to Bridgette to blow off some pent-up frustrations.

Bridgette used him to cast a mastery-worthy spell, but Dom was still shocked when he woke to find a gray abjuration mastery sewn onto the sleeves of his robes. However, this was nothing compared to the private conversation Dom overheard between Arlon and Bri discussing his replacement as Grandmaster, a position Arlon hoped Dom would someday fill.

Despite his fears about being put in such a position of power, Dom was determined to cast his first unsupervised spell with Olbric. Before he began, Arlon reminded Dom of the lesson he’d been trying to instill in him during his time collared: he was enough.

Diran was still on the loose, and the tensions with the Kingdom of Straetham still high, but as the doors to the Crux opened again, everyone was able to breathe a cautious sigh of relief. For now.

Patience

When you are in the role of caster to a collared conduit, you must be stern with your commands. This is especially true if your conduit enjoys playing with rebellion and brattiness. Sometimes, a creative problem brought about by an unruly conduit requires a creative solution from the caster.

Advanced Casting Principles: Collaring by Felix Kessler

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I’VE ALWAYS BEEN A patient person. It comes from hunting, I think. Waiting for hours in the hot sun or snow for a deer or turkey to cross my path. When the choice is between eating for a week or going home hungry, you learn patience real quick. And until now, I don’t think Olbric really understood the depth of my ability to just wait it out.

He’d been the one to make the bet, though. When he was mouthing off to me during a spell a few days ago, he’d said that he could last longer with his cock locked up than I could resist putting my own in him.

He’d been wrong, but it’s been real funny watching him try.

The second he enters the mess hall, I can tell he’s warring with himself. He heads to the breakfast table and picks up a plate but doesn’t grab anything else. Over the past few days, he’s resorted to dressing up in his prettiest small clothes to grind against me, waking me up more than once with his mouth around my cock. But on top of being patient, I’m also stubborn as hell. It’s taken every ounce of my self-control not to give into his demands, but I can tell that every time I deny him brings him that much closer to breaking.

“Someone’s looking antsy.”

I chuckle and glance across the table to where Galiva is seated. She’s caught sight of him too, and her brown eyes sparkle with mirth as she tracks Olbric’s progress at the food table. He picks up a roll only to set it back down again, his scowl deepening.

“He even woke up in time for breakfast, for once,” I chuckle. “I’ll bet you a silver he breaks by tonight.”

Galiva hums as she uses her bread to scoop up the last of her scrambled eggs. “Nah, I think he’s got one or two more days left in him.”

It’s only then that Olbric seems to notice us looking. He must guess what we’re talking about because his scowl turns into a glower as he meets my eye. Gods, but I love how his lower lip sticks out in a pout when I keep him desperate. And I can tell just by the look on his face that he is desperate.

He resolutely turns his back on me, and my hope dwindles. But then, Olbric reaches into his pocket and pulls out a shiny band of silver.

His shoulders slump in defeat as he brushes his loose hair out of the way before clasping my collar around his neck. From where I’m sitting across the mess hall, I can’t hear the little click of the lock, but I know that it’s just signaled my win all the same.

Behind me, Galiva tsks, but I don’t take my eyes off of Olbric, waiting to see what he’ll do now. Part of the bet was that the loser had to show proper contrition for overestimating their abilities, and I can’t help but wonder how exactly he’ll do that.

Olbric sets his still-empty plate back down, but he doesn’t come towards our table. Instead, he heads to the front of the room where the stained glass windows shine a rainbow pattern across the stone floor. He’s dressed in trousers and a flowing, frilled white shirt that’s cut low enough to show off the spell strands that hang across his chest. But in the morning light, I can see the corset cinching in his waist through the thin fabric of the shirt.

A few curious eyes turn to look at him as Olbric moves onto the dais that Arlon usually makes his announcements from. The hall quiets some, waiting to see if he has some news. Olbric scans the room before his eyes land on me.

He glowers before he slowly, elegantly sinks to his knees. I meet his glare with a grin as I pick up my steaming tea. I take a sip as he drops forward onto his hands before he slowly crawls his way down the dais and starts across the mess hall towards me. Though the sway of his hips, the heat in his eyes, makes it seem less like a humbling crawl of defeat and more like a mountain cat’s prowl.

There are a few whoops from the others in the mess hall, but I barely hear them, my eyes locked on Olbric. It’s only when he gets closer and lifts his head to glare at me that I see that he’s done his face up a bit. His pouting lips have been made even poutier by the rouge that stains it a few shades darker, the kohl around his eyes turning his glare sharp.

When I first started dressing him up in garters and dresses, he’d been embarrassed to be seen. With how coy and flushed he used to get, enchantment had been easy to get out of him. But over the past few months, our spells have started taking on a different energy, one that’s harder to pin down. There’s a confidence in him that wasn’t there before, and he wears it well, even from his knees. My cock aches at the sight of him, and it strikes me how much of a toll these few days of denial have taken on me as well.

“I’m sorry, Dom,” he says, his words just as tight as the fists that rest against his thighs as he sits back into a kneel. “I was wrong.”

My grin widens as I lean down to brush a stray hair behind his ear. “What was that?” I ask as I cup his cheek. “I couldn’t quite hear you.”

His eyes are still full of defiance, and with my hand on his face, I can almost feel him bite his tongue. He seems to work through the urge to shoot a snappy retort my way, and I can’t help but chuckle. It’s a delight to watch the brat tame himself.

“I said that I’m sorry!” Olbric finally says, raising his voice to declare it to the whole mess hall. “I admit that I was wrong!”

Oh, but I’m not going to let him off that easy. “Wrong about what, again?” I ask and cup my ear, batting my eyelashes at him.

Olbric lets out a little “oooh you-” but he cuts himself off before he can finish the thought. I have a feeling that I’m going to regret riling him up like this when he pounces on me later, but I’m sure that I can give his mouth something better to do than swear at me.

He collects himself, and I see that familiar flash of defiance in his eyes as he smirks up at me. “I was wrong about how much you get off on denying me.”

I chuckle and move my hand down to grab his chin, giving his head a little shake. “Oh, beautiful,” I say. “Just for that, I’m going to fuck you twice before I take that cage off.”

A quiet whimper of anticipation escapes him before he can stop himself. His heated glare feels like it’s trying to burn a hole through me as he says, “That better be a promise.”

I press a kiss to his forehead before saying, “You can count on it. But first, you need to go grab your breakfast.”

I release his chin, and I half expect some sort of sass. Instead, he obediently gets to his feet, not quite able to hide his wince. The cock cage that I borrowed from Arlon must be feeling pretty tight right about now, and he walks a little stiffly as he heads back towards the breakfast table, accompanied by a few whoops and jeers from some of the watchers across the hall.

Olbric smirks as he flips Alix a rude gesture before gathering his plate with much less indecision this time around. I only take my eyes off of him when there’s a clink of coin, and I turn to see Galiva pull a silver from her purse and set it on the table next to my plate.

“I’ll have you know that you just won my lunch money,” she says.

I push the coin back to her with a laugh. “Then your lunch is on me. You need any help at the clinic today?”

“Sure you don’t have more exciting things to do?” she asks with a pointed look at Olbric.

“Oh, I’ll have plenty of time to do him once the sun’s down,” I say with a wink. “I want him begging before I even take his clothes off.”

Galiva chuckles as she slips the coin back into her purse. “Well, thanks for the offer, but I think I’ve pincushioned you enough this winter. Besides, we don’t have nearly as many people coming in now that the worst of the fever has passed.”

It’s a relief to hear. The fever comes through every winter, but this year has been a bad one. Just after the solstice, it swept through Straetham, even making it into the Crux. Olbric and Cancassi had both gotten it, along with a few others, but theirs was a mild sniffle and some sweaty, restless nights compared to what Bridgette suffered through.

That had been a tense week. Arlon and Garrett barely left her bedside, and the day her fever broke, it felt like the whole Crux could finally breathe again. But it wasn’t until a few days later, when Bridgette was finally back on her feet, that a representative from the Crown came to the Crux to formally ask Garrett to return to his duties at the clinic on a probationary basis.

Garrett had been eager to help. No doubt he hoped that getting involved at the clinic again would allow him to fix some of the damage he’d unwillingly inflicted at Jaret and Lucien’s botched execution. Yet the suspicious looks we get aimed at us when we head into town make it hard to say if it’s helped.

“Well, the offer stands if you need me,” I say as Olbric falls onto the bench next to me.

“What offer?” he demands suspiciously. “Because I swear to God, Dom, I didn’t crawl across the entire mess hall to have to share you with anyone else today.”

“No sharing. I’m just trying to find a way to keep busy today,” I say innocently.

A sharp smile spreads across Olbric’s face, and it seems like his defeat has done nothing to douse the fire in him. In fact, by the looks of it, I’ve only stoked the flames higher. His voice is a sultry purr as he says, “You’ll have your hands full, I promise.”

My cock throbs at that, but I try not to let it show. I may have won the bet, but the game of heating each other up is definitely still on.

“You know, I wanted to get some reading done today,” I say. “Found this really interesting essay about tease and denial’s effect on different schools that I’ve been making my way through.”

Olbric leans over to nip my earlobe, making gooseflesh shiver over my skin as he hisses, “You’re already an expert.”

Across the table from us, Galiva groans. “Gods, you two are insufferable.”

I smirk as I grab Olbric’s roll from his plate and take a bite. “Yeah, he gets like that when he’s randy.”

Olbric doesn’t even hesitate as he grabs my wrist and takes the rest of the roll back using only his teeth. His eyes smolder as he looks at me, making my pulse spike.

Yup, my patience is definitely starting to crumble, too.

“How about you two hurry up and finish eating. Then maybe you can keep your hands off of one another long enough to help me,” Galiva says. “We’re running low on some things at the clinic, and Arlon said I could take what I needed from the infirmary.”

Olbric groans when he realizes that he’s going to have to suffer a little while longer. I smile and nudge him with my elbow as I say, “We’d be happy to.”

As Olbric eats with the speed of someone whose patience has fully run out, I scoop up mine and Galiva’s empty plates and turn them over to the kitchen. Olbric’s already finished by the time I return, and he hurries to hand off his dishes before he follows me and Galiva out of the hall.

Together, we head to the posterior courtyard. It’s where most of the Crux’s non-magical work happens, but the infirmary has its own little building right near the front. I’ve never had a reason to go into it before, though I’ve passed by it countless times.

Inside, it’s small but well equipped, with three neatly made beds. Right now, they’re all empty, which I take as a sign that the fever has fully made its way back out of the Crux. Against the far wall is a row of cabinets that Galiva starts to open as she searches for what she’s looking for.

It’s enough to keep both Olbric and I distracted for the time being. We help pack up a box of supplies, organizing whatever wraps and salves Galiva hands to us. Yet as one box spills over into a second, I frown.

“This is way too much for you to carry,” I say. “Want me to ask Symon to get a cart ready?”

“That’s alright, Dom.”

I turn to find Garrett standing in the doorway of the infirmary. He’s got on a maroon shirt that’s a nice contrast against his storm-gray skin, and as he rolls the sleeves up, it shows off the peppering of dark corpimancy scars on his arms. “We should be able to handle it. Maybe my escort will even be kind enough to help?”

I peer around the door frame to see who it is today, and smirk when I catch sight of Nikolai.

Ever since Garrett was enchanted and made to free Lucien and Jaret from the hangman’s noose, Nik or one of Captain Thora’s other guards have been by weekly to check on him, though they usually wait outside of the Crux walls. Now that Garrett’s been allowed to return to his duties at the clinic, the guard has been by even more often to provide an escort, and going off of the look on Nik’s face, he’s well over wizard-sitting duty.

Nikolai lets out a long-suffering sigh as he says, “I suppose.”

“Damn, Nik, try not to sound so excited about it,” I say with a smirk and am met with a cross-armed glower.

The half-orc gives me a toothy grin as he goes to help Galiva in her search. With him in the room, it gets to be a little cramped, so I use it as an excuse to get up and stretch. I head out of the infirmary and fall in beside the guard.

“How long are we going to keep meeting like this?” I ask casually.

Nikolai snorts even as he watches me out of the corner of his eye. “You ask me that every single time you see me.”

I stretch my arms over my head as I say, “And every single time you’ve failed to answer it.”

“I don’t make it a habit to answer questions that I don’t know the answer to,” he says.

I hum at that and say, “You know, last time you were around I could have swore I asked you how you were, and you just ignored me. So, did you just not know the answer, or...”

He’s as sour as a crabapple most days, but at that, I catch the slightest quirk of his lips. Over the past few months, I’ve been trying to get through that hard exterior, but it’s like trying to break a rock with a fork. I still can’t tell if I’ve curried any favor with him or if he merely tolerates me, but it’s been kinda fun hassling him all the same.

“I’m fine, thanks,” he says, and dare I say that he sounds a little amused.

It hadn’t exactly been an idle question. Garrett had mentioned that the guard had caught the fever last week, but whatever magic he worked seems to have cleared it up.

“Glad to hear it,” I say with a grin. Even getting that much out of him feels like a triumph, but my mouth speaks before I fully give it permission. “So, are you single or betrothed or...”

The slight grin on his face turns to a scowl in a blink of an eye. “No.”

“No as in you’re not single or not betrothed?” I ask.

“No as in I’m not interested,” Nikolai says, sounding bored. This isn’t the first time I’ve asked this question, either.

“Why, ‘cause I’m a man or I’m a wizard or...”

Nik snorts. “Because you’re obnoxious.”

I laugh at that, and the guard’s scowl softens just a little bit. “So what you’re saying is if I curtail it a bit, you might be interested?”

Nikolai rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t answer as Garrett emerges from the infirmary, carrying two small boxes stacked on top of one another. He hands one off to the guard, and Nikolai doesn’t hesitate to take it.

Garrett brushes the short, sweat-damp brown locks out of his face like he’s annoyed at them as he says, “Thanks for your patience, Nik.”

Though frankly, I admire his own. I doubt being ordered around by the guard is as fun as I sometimes imagine it being.

“Anytime, Garrett,” Nikolai says before his eyes flick to mine. “See you next time, Dominai.”

I wave him off with a grin as Olbric and Galiva emerge from the infirmary. Galiva leans up to kiss my cheek before saying, “Thanks for your help. I’ll see you both later.”

Olbric’s hand grabs mine before he guides it up to the silver of his collar. The heat I lit at breakfast has gone nowhere as he growls, “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

I chuckle as I thread my finger through the ring of Olbric’s collar and tug him close even as Galiva rolls her eyes. “I’d prefer not to see either of you back here anytime soon, so for the gods’ sakes, go easy on one another.”

#

OLBRIC GRUNTS AS I shove him against the wall of my casting room, claiming his lips in a bruising kiss. His hands paw at me, though I can’t tell if he’s trying to tug my shirt off or just tear it. I like this shirt, so I grab his wrists and pin them to the wall over his head as I pull back, panting.

He arches underneath me, hips rolling, and I feel his metal cock cage through the fabric of his trousers as he grinds against my crotch. I shove forward again, pressing a knee between his legs as I pin his lower half with my hips. His growl of frustration takes on the hint of a whine.

“Come on, Dom,” he pants. “You promised to fuck me twice, and there has been a distinct lack of fucking happening.”

I smirk and rub my thigh higher, teasing at his cage. “You want me to fuck you? Then you’re gonna have to beg me for it.”

Olbric lets out a frustrated groan as he grinds wantonly against my thigh. “I’m already begging.”

I chuckle as I meet his heated gaze, bringing us nose to nose. “Oh, beautiful. You don’t even know the meaning of the word yet.”

His eyes widen as I pull back before I spin him, pinning his chest to the stone. “Stay still,” I order, and bless him, as desperate as he is, he actually obeys. My hands trail down to his hips and slide them forward until I find his cage. His laces come loose under my fingers before I rub him through the fabric of his trousers. I move without an ounce of haste as I ease them, inch by inch, down his hips.

Olbric growls impatiently, yet the second he so much as scoots his hands, I crack my hand against his ass. It makes him think twice about moving again, and he lets me finish easing his trousers off before I tug his shirt up and toss it away. Only then do I spin him to face me again.

Even reduced to nothing but a corset and some white small clothes, he still looks ferocious. Ever since Ambra and Galiva first dressed him up for me, he’s really taken to it. He’s learned some tricks with his makeup that seem to change his face, softening his jaw and accentuating his lips and cheeks. His thick black hair cascades over his shoulders and chest, and I brush it out of the way as I catch his lips again, softer this time.

“Gods, but you’re beautiful.”

Olbric breaks away with a growl. “No, absolutely not,” he says. “You didn’t promise to fuck me twice just to go all soft and gentle on me.”

I chuckle as I place my hand deliberately around his throat. I tilt his head to the side, kissing my way down his jaw before trailing slowly to his neck. “And what’s wrong with soft and gentle?”

My hands stroke over the curve of the corset before I trail down further, my thumb just brushing the edge of his cock cage. He groans in response, pushing his hips forward as he silently begs for more.

But I’m not about to give it to him yet. Instead, I sink to my knees in front of him before I grab the hem of his small clothes with my teeth. Slowly, I drag them down, easing them off his hips. He trembles, his fingers tangling in my hair as I press my lips against his thigh.

I toss his discarded small clothes aside, and his legs spread at my smallest prompting. That alone makes me realize how desperate he is. He’s usually full of fight and defiance, making me work for whatever I get out of him. I’ve wondered if he’d be easier to tame after I kept him locked up, and I guess I finally have my answer.

I’ll have to do it again sometime.

My tongue darts out to taste his skin before I nip gently, moving ever closer to the crux of his legs. The little metal cylinder keeps his cock locked away, but there are gaps large enough to fit the tip of my tongue through. I pin his hips gently as I tease him, savoring every desperate groan as his cock tries and fails to swell inside of the tight little cage.

His fingers grip my hair hard enough that I feel a few strands pull free. I kiss the caged tip of his cock before I say, “I’m going to count down from three, and your hands better be on the wall beside you.”

I look up to see Olbric grimace as he wars with himself. “One,” I say, the warning clear in my voice. “Two.” Olbric lets out a quiet sound of disagreement, but his fingers release their death grip on my hair and slam against the wall beside him just as I say, “Three.”

My lips press against his stomach as I savor his miserable little laugh. “Good girl,” I purr before saying, “You ready to beg, beautiful?”

Olbric’s fingers drum against the wall frantically, like he wants nothing more than to reach out and grab me again. “Fucking hell, Dom, please!”

I chuckle and say, “Tell me what you want.”

“For the millionth time, I want you to fuck me already!” he snaps.

I grab his wrist as I get to my feet and use it to spin him so he’s facing the wall again. I press my weight against his back, letting him feel my hard cock through my trousers.

“Is that right?” I tease. “How do you want me to fuck you, Olbric?” My feet kick his legs apart, and I’m rewarded with his gasp of surprise. I reach around and grab his locked cock roughly as I say, “You want me to take you hard? Fuck you until you’re begging me to finish?”

I press a gentle kiss against the back of his neck, hearing a needy moan break past his lips. “Or do you want me to take you slow and gentle?” I ask. “Let you feel every inch?”

A moan rattles out of him that makes the heat pool straight in my groin. His cheek rests against the wall, and one eye watches me over his shoulder, glazed with lust.

“First one, and then the other,” Olbric pants.

I chuckle as I bring my lips close to his ear even as I free my cock from my trousers. “Which way first?”

Olbric rolls his hips back, grinding his ass against my crotch. “Caster’s choice.”

I smirk as I slide my hand up into his hair. The black locks twist around my fist before I tug, pulling his head back. “That’s a good girl.”

My free hand reaches into my pocket to grab the small bottle of lotion, yet Olbric’s whimper of anticipation nearly makes my clumsy fingers drop it. I just barely save it and pour the slick liquid over my cock before drizzling the rest down his ass. The bottle clanks gently against the ground as I drop it before I line myself up.

Olbric arches as I sink into him, his head thrown back with a shout of pleasure. I snap my hips forward again, reaching even deeper, and the feel of his tight hole shatters what little remains of my patience. I fuck him hard as I put my hand on the back of his head, pushing him forward to pin his cheek to the wall.

Every hard thrust is met with a whimper or a grunt. Olbric’s legs are starting to tremble already from holding his hips out, yet the second he tries to relax, I crack my hand against his ass.

“Keep those hips back, beautiful,” I pant, but it takes one more slap before he obeys. I chuckle and let go of his head so I can properly grab his hips. “That’s it. Stay right there.”

Olbric shouts as I use my grip to deliver a particularly deep thrust. “Oh, fuck!” he shouts, his voice layered with pleasure. “Oh God, Dom, please!”

“Please, what, Olbric?” I ask as I meet him with another hard thrust.

He cries out, his eyes flying open wide as he takes every inch of me. “Please! I want to feel you cum. Please fuck me.”

He’s trembling, his arms shaking where they’re braced against the wall, his legs looking like they’re about to fold. I can’t see it, but I have no doubt that his cock is leaking through the bars of his cage, begging for relief.

“That’s the kind of begging I want to hear,” I purr before I quicken my pace. Olbric shouts his torment, and the sight of him opening around me is enough to undo me. I swear as I seat myself deep, my cock pulsing as I empty into him.

He slumps against the wall, a long moan rattling out of him as I pull free of his hole. When I turn him around, the kohl around his pleading eyes has smudged, his expression glazed. Over the past few months, I’ve learned to recognize the haze of conspace softening his features, and he’s definitely in it now. He trembles as a bit of my seed drips down between his legs, looking thoroughly debauched.

I capture his lips, swallowing his desperate little whimper. He’s always so quick to snap back, so eager to disobey me, that it never gets old seeing him break. My hand trails down to grab his cage, and he arches against me, breaking our kiss with a wanton moan.

“Do you want this off, beautiful?” I purr.

“God, please,” he wails, and the desperation layering his voice is like music to my ears. “Please let me cum, Dom.”

I hum as I guide him over to the bed on the far side of the room. When I push him to lay down, he goes without protest. He’s down to nothing but the corset cinched tight around his waist, the white fabric a beautiful contrast against his flushed russet brown skin. The sight of him, soiled and wanting, is enough to make my cock harden again.

My clothes suddenly feel too constricting. I tug my shirt over my head before I kick my trousers the rest of the way off. And when I kneel on the bed over Olbric, his breath hitches, eyes wide as I grab the key to his cage from under my spell necklace.

“I told you I was going to fuck you twice before I freed you,” I say, and Olbric sucks in a breath, his eyes narrowing. I shift, settling my knees between his legs and using my leverage to spread him. “But maybe if you’re very good, I’ll let you out early.”

He whimpers as I catch his lips again, my cock finding his entrance once more. I tease him for a moment, just barely entering him as I swallow his quiet sounds of desperation. And when I finally do sink into him, he arches with a moan that’s equal parts bliss and torment.

Just as promised, I go slow and gentle, rolling my hips in a steady rhythm that lets him feel every inch of me. Through the cage, his cock is red and leaking, his fingers a vice on my shoulders as if he’s trying to urge me on. Yet now that I’ve finished once, I feel like I could keep this up forever.

I grab his wrists, peeling his hands off of me to pin them over his head. The angle lets me reach even deeper, and he cries out, hands clenching to fists under my grip as I savor the feel of him tightening around me. His face is flushed, eyes clenched shut, his lower lip held between his teeth as he rides the leisurely thrusts of my cock. His legs hook behind my back to silently urge me on.

“What do you think, beautiful?” I pant. “I want to play with your cock, so you think you can keep your hands where I put them?”

I shift my hips, changing the angle so I rub right against his prostate on my next thrust. His eyes fly open, a choked gasp of pleasure escaping him. Even with the cage on, his cock jumps.

“Oh, fuck! Dom, please! I’ll do anything,” he begs.

I pause my thrusts to pull the key to his cage from around my neck. “Then you better keep your hands where they are or it’s going right back on.”

Olbric whimpers at the threat, and his arms tremble as he grabs the sheets overhead like he’s trying to pull the cloth apart. I chuckle as I look down at him, splayed out and beyond desperate. Fuck, but I’ll never get tired of it.

I let him ride my steady thrusts as I reach down to toy with his cage. One hand dips lower to massage his testicles while the other raises the little key to the keyhole. Olbric watches me with wide eyes, his entire body taut with need, yet as slow as I go, he doesn’t dare risk a peep to try and speed me up.

Finally, I slip the key in and twist, hearing the quiet click as the cage comes apart. Olbric’s moan is pure relief as his reddened cock is finally allowed to spring free, rising up hard and leaking. And when I wrap my hand around it, his hips buck, nearly pulling off of my length in his attempt to seek more.

“Ah ah, beautiful, don’t pull off of me,” I warn as I spear him with a hard thrust, earning a yelp of surprise. “Or else I’ll stop being so gentle.”

Olbric’s hazel eyes flash with mischief, and it’s like he was just biding his time until the cage was off before he tried to defy me again. Even though his hands stay right where I put them, he rocks his hips up, thrusting into my grip and pulling right off of my cock.

Give him an inch and he takes a mile. Guess I should have known better than to think I’d fucked the disobedience out of him.

I grab his hips hard enough to bruise before I yank him back to me, entering him again in one rough thrust. My grip on his cock turns painful, and he throws his head back with a shout, even though his open mouth holds the hint of a smile.

“Slow and gentle isn’t your style, is it?” I ask as I start to fuck him into the bed, hard enough that the wooden frame creaks. “You want me to fuck you bowlegged, don’t you?”

Olbric’s saved from trying to answer as I deliver a hard slap to his cock. He cries out, but it quickly morphs to a moan as I grab his length, stroking him in time with my own rapid thrusts.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” he gasps. “Oh God, Dom, I’m going to-“

I speed up, my hand stroking faster as I say, “Let me see it, beautiful.”

Olbric screams as his end crashes through him. His cock empties over my hand, his hole clenching so tightly around me that my thrusts stutter to a stop. I swear as the energy crackles between us, making my hair stand on end as my own end catches up with me.

For a second, neither of us move, both of us too busy trying to catch our breath. Then, Olbric lets out a quiet little laugh.

“You did it again,” he says, but it takes me a second to realize what he’s talking about.

“Ah, fuck,” I mutter and let my forehead rest against his chest. “I did, didn’t I?”

Olbric’s chuckle morphs to a groan as I pull out of him. He rolls onto his side as I flop down next to him, spreading my arms and legs out to just try and cool off. Olbric doesn’t let me breathe for long. He scoots closer and closer, not letting up until I lift my arm so he can rest his cheek against my chest.

“Dominai of Airedale,” Olbric says, one finger idly tracing my nipple. “One of the most promising up-and-coming wizards of the Crux. Or at least he would be if he didn’t keep forgetting to put fresh focuses on his conduits.”

I flush hot even as I grin. “Hey, sometimes just fucking you silly is more important than making magic.”

Olbric kisses my neck gently. “And as grateful as I am, I’m curious to see how well that’s going to go over with Arlon tomorrow.”

The haze of pleasure starts to break apart at that. Fuck, I really have dug a hole for myself. After I had failed to turn in even a single spell sheet for two weeks straight, Arlon had given me the order to make some godsdamned magic. That I failed to actually cast when I had Olbric collared and caged is bad news.

“I’m gonna get my ass kicked tomorrow,” I groan.

Olbric chuckles and presses a kiss to my cheek as he nestles closer. “You sure are,” he says. “It’s a little too late to help you this week, but I can at least help you get a spell sheet to turn in to him for next week.”

“Yeah? What do you have in mind?”

Olbric smiles up at me through his mussed hair. “The supplies for my transmutation spell are finished.”

“Godsdamn, finally,” I say. Winter is trying to cling on as spring takes over, but it had been late fall when Olbric first commissioned the casting supplies for his transmutation mastery. “What the hell is this spell that it took nearly half a year to build the supplies for it?”

Olbric squirms against me, like he can’t quite contain his excitement. “You can’t tell anyone.”

I chuckle and brush a strand of black from where it’s stuck to his kiss-swollen lip. “I promise, I won’t say a word.”

Olbric beams up at me, his smile bright as he says, “I’m going to change iron into gold.”

For a second, I’m sure he’s joking. Yet the look on his face tells me that he is anything but. “Fuck me, and how are you going to do that?”

He bites his lip, but it fails to dampen his smile. “That’s what I need you for. I think you may be the only one who can conduit for this spell.”

I brush a stray hair from his face. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

His face flushes a few shades darker, and his eyes avoid mine almost shyly as he says, “Because I think that value is going to play a big factor in this spell, and... I value you a lot.”

And fuck if that doesn’t make my whole body feel warm. I tighten my arms around him as I press another kiss to his head. “I’ll be happy to help.”

Olbric presses a line of kisses along my jaw before he finds my mouth. “Thank you, Dom.”

Divine Retribution

Not all punishments have to hurt - physically, that is. Depending on your conduit, some enchantment methods can be an extremely effective method of punishment. Humiliation and degradation can be used as efficient rectifiers of bad behavior.

Fundamentals of Magic by Eroland Lockhart

––––––––

THE NEXT MORNING, I eat a quick breakfast before I go down to the baths. I shave and clean myself inside and out before I head back up to my room to make myself as presentable as possible. I pull on my nicest shirt and trousers and comb my wavy hair before I check my reflection in the little copper mirror that Cancassi got me as a yuletide present. I smooth every last crease out of my clothes before I finally fasten Arlon’s collar around my neck.

My stomach is already a knot a nerves. Olbric’s right - I’m going to get a beating today, though it’s up in the air whether Arlon or Bridgette is going to be the one to deliver it.

Ever since Garrett was confined to the Crux, my Mondays with Arlon have turned into Mondays with all three of them. Usually, it’s a pretty fun arrangement, but I’m dreading it today.

Once I’m put together, I grab my door handle and tug. It doesn’t budge, yet when I go to flip the lock, it’s already open.

I frown. The thing has never stuck before, yet when I tug again, it rattles but stays firmly shut.

“What the fuck?”

I brace my foot against the wall and pull with all my might just as I hear a stifled snicker of laughter from outside the door. My stomach drops.

Thaddius. Of course it’s fucking Thaddius.

When he knocked into me and made me spill Arlon’s breakfast those few months ago, I had taken it for an honest mistake. Yet the escalating pranks over winter have made me realize it was anything but. This isn’t the first time he’s tried to make me late with Arlon, but it’s by far his most blatant attempt. I don’t know what I’ve done to put a target on my back, but I swear as I pound on the door.

“Let me out!” Footsteps scuttle down the hall, making a run for it. “HEY!”

I press my ear to the door, but the hall has gone silent. Outside, first bell rings, and I swear again when I realize that I’m officially late. If I wasn’t already in for a beating because of my lack of spell sheets, I’m definitely in for one now.

Part of me wonders how much more trouble I’ll get in if I use an evocation to just bust the damn thing down. But when I yank on the door again, it opens abruptly, sending me toppling to the floor. I swear as I quickly find my feet and rush out. There’s no sign of anything physical holding it closed, so I assume Thaddius used some sort of spell. I don’t have time to dwell on it as I slam the door closed and run for the stairs.

I take them three at a time, sprinting down from the divination tower until I reach the main floor. A few curious onlookers watch as I rush through the atrium and down the hall to Arlon’s office. His door is closed when I get to it, and I try to righten my mussed appearance before I knock.

“Come in,” his deep voice calls.

I do as told, keeping my head lowered as I step into his office. He’s seated behind his desk, a pile of papers in front of him. Even with Bridgette and Garrett absent, the large office feels small when the Grandmaster pins me with a look.

“You’re late,” he says.

“I know, sir. I’m sorry.”

I don’t offer an excuse. Whatever childish game Thaddius is playing is between me and him, and Arlon’s got enough on his plate without me adding some petty Crux drama.

Arlon hums as he motions me in. I keep my head down as I go to kneel by his chair. His hand lands gently on my head, his fingers stroking through my hair, yet I can’t bring myself to relax because I know what he’s going to ask next.

“Do you have any spell sheets for me?” He must feel me wince because his hand stills. “Dom,” he says, exasperated.

“I did a divination with Galiva?” I offer, though I doubt it’ll do much to lessen my punishment.

“And how did that go?” Arlon asks.

“Well...” It had been a bust. Ever since the attack on the town square, we’ve been trying to get Sight of Diran’s mercenary, Isa. We’ve gotten a few glimpses of her somewhere in the Eastern Reach, but the plains of Immenbach are a big place. “Galiva caught Sight of Isa, but... it wasn’t specific enough to pinpoint a location.”

“She’s still in the Reach, though?” Arlon asks.

“Yes, sir, as far as we can tell. She’s been doing a lot of traveling, it seems,” I say. “Diran’s nondetection spell is still holding strong. We haven’t been able to catch Sight of him or any of his other wizards, but Galiva’s Seen that Isa is still working with them.”

Arlon sighs in frustration, and I know the lack of progress on that front weighs heavily on him. Over winter, there hasn’t been a peep from the rogue wizard that enchanted Garrett to attack the city square. Yet it’s hard to say if the silence is a good thing or not. While Garrett’s convinced Diran has returned to his home country for good, Arlon’s not so sure. I don’t know what to think, but I’m grateful that whatever Diran is up to, it doesn’t involve him targeting any of the wizards of the Crux. Gods know he’s already done enough damage there.

“And what about what you were working on with Olbric?” Arlon asks, changing the subject back to the matter at hand. “I heard about his crawl across the mess hall yesterday. That should have produced something.”

I flush hot. “I’m sure it would have, sir. I just... forgot to put the focuses on.”

Arlon’s chair creaks as he leans back in it. He sounds a little amused as he says, “Oh, sweet boy.”

“I know, I know,” I say, face flushing hot. “I’m sorry, sir. I got so swept up with casting that I just... forgot.”

Arlon’s fingers drum on top of my head, and I can tell he’s trying to think of a suitable punishment. I’m met with a long, drawn-out silence that makes my stomach twist with nerves. Gods know I’ve dug a hole for myself today, and Arlon can be cruelly creative with his punishments.

“Alright, Dom, strip,” he orders at last. “As punishment, I’m going to start today by getting an enchantment out of you.”

My face reddens, though I should have expected it. Over the past few months, Arlon has been working on enchantment with me. After he accidentally dropped me so deep into a spell that he stopped us, we’ve been gradually figuring out what parts of the school feel overwhelming to me.

There are times where he’ll draw me into his lap and pet and praise me until I feel like I’m going to melt. Hearing him compliment me used to make me so uncomfortable, but over winter, it’s become my preferred form of enchantment. Yet I know that’s not what’s in store for me today.

I came to him with a list of particularly egregious offenses this morning, and Arlon looks ready to rub my nose in them. Humiliation and degradation are where enchantment gets tricky for me. Unlike other casting methods, it actually feels like a punishment, and Arlon makes sure to only use it on me when I’ve earned it. And I’ve definitely earned it today.

“Yes, sir,” I say, resigned.

His office is chilly this time of year, but I shiver for an entirely different reason as I stand and strip my clothes off before setting them on the chair in the corner. When I turn to face him, he’s already at the cabinets behind his desk. He turns and my stomach drops when I see the wooden humbler he’s pulled out.

He motions me over, and I obediently drop to my hands and knees to crawl towards him. I’ve never worn the mean little device, but I’ve seen them used before and know what’s in store for me. Arlon circles around behind me, his hand cool where it lands on the small of my back.

His other hand finds my testicles and guides them through the gap between the two polished pieces of wood that make up the humbler. As Arlon tightens the screws down, my testicles are tugged painfully behind me. The curved wooden bar rests against the back of my thighs, forcing me to stay kneeling, but Arlon makes sure of it as he latches leather cuffs around my ankles and uses a length of chain to attach them to the ends of the humbler.

I can’t stop a quiet groan as I settle onto my hands and knees, but I was foolish to think Arlon was done. From his pocket, he pulls out a set of metal clamps that are attached by a length of chain. He tightens them onto my nipples, and I whimper as hot pain throbs through the sensitive skin.

With a tug on the chain, he guides me over to the back corner of his office. It crosses my mind that this is the second time Thaddius has landed me in this corner. First time had been kneeling on a bed of rice after Thaddius knocked Arlon’s breakfast out of my hands at the start of this foolish prank war.

Arlon plucks an uncharged focus from his pocket and holds it out for me to see. “You are going to hold this against the wall with nothing but your nose,” he says. “And if you drop it, I’ll add to the time you’ll have to stay here.”

I bite back a swear even as I nod. I earned this, after all. “Yes, sir.”

Arlon holds the ring up to the wall, and I crawl forward until I can pin it there with my nose.

“And what have you done to earn this punishment, Dom?” he asks.

“I-I was late. I disobeyed your orders to make a spell this week. And I forgot to put any focuses on my conduits.”

“That’s right,” Arlon says before he lifts the chain dangling from my nipple clamps. “Open your mouth.”

I do as I’m told, and Arlon sets the chain between my teeth. To keep the focus in place, I have to keep my head lifted, which makes the chain attached to my nipple clamps pull painfully tight.

Arlon retreats for only a moment before something cold drops onto my back. “Tardy,” he says before his finger drags across my skin. “Disobedient. Forgetful.”

I flush when I realize he’s writing. Marking my transgressions in what must be ink across my back and ass. I tremble as I hold my position, not daring to move and lose my tenuous grip on the focus. As a final touch, Arlon makes me lift one hand and then the other as he slips a few more uncharged focuses over my fingers.

“You will stay here until those are charged,” he says. “You’re a wizard, Dom, and part of being a wizard is actually making spells. Since you failed to do that this week, I’m going to use you today to get some spells out of you all the same.”

With the chain held between my teeth, I can’t give an answer, but Arlon doesn’t seem to expect one. A quiet, miserable little sound escapes me as I close my eyes. I don’t like getting on his bad side. Ever since he collared me, I’ve given him precious few reasons to punish me, and that’s the way I prefer it.

My desire to please runs deep, and he must see how hard this is for me, because he ruffles my hair gently. “You’re alright, sweet boy. Take your punishment well, and all will be forgiven.”

I let out a long breath as my resolve hardens. A part of me knows that he’s not needlessly punishing me. Every word he wrote on me is true, and the least I can do is atone for it by accepting the punishment he’s doled out.

Behind me, his chair creaks as he sits, and I let out a shaky breath as I settle in for the long haul. Pain throbs in my abused nipples, but so long as I don’t shift around too much, the humbler doesn’t tug on my trapped testicles too badly. Humiliation simmers through me as I endure, feeling the ink documenting my transgressions dry against my skin.

Yet the heat of embarrassment only gets worse when there’s a knock on Arlon’s door. I flush red, my arms shaking as he calls, “Who is it?”

“Guess,” Bridgette calls back before she opens the door. Yet as soon as it closes behind her, she tsks. “Oh dear, he’s been a naughty fuckboy this week, hasn’t he?”

“He has, but I doubt he’ll forget to put a focus on his conduit again,” Arlon says smugly.

Damn right I won’t. Already my hands and knees are starting to ache, but I doggedly hold the position, not letting the focus under my nose slip.

Bridgette chuckles, but it’s interrupted by the dry cough that’s plagued her ever since the fever struck.

“How are you feeling?” Arlon asks, concern coloring his voice.

“I’m fine, mother hen,” she says. “I swear, a girl can’t even clear her throat without you or Garrett panicking anymore.”

Arlon lets out a huff of a laugh. “Indulge me and let me grab you some tea and breakfast.”

I can almost hear Bridgette roll her eyes. “Fine. I’ll keep an eye on your fuckboy for you.”

There’s the scrape of Arlon’s chair as he gets to his feet. I hear him murmur something, though I can’t make out what it is. Bridgette giggles all the same before the door to the office opens and closes.

And in the silence, I can almost feel Bridgette’s gaze turn back to me. I tremble as her quiet footsteps head my way, unable to stop a quiet whimper as I close my eyes and pray she doesn’t try to make my punishment worse. Her sadistic streak runs far deeper than Arlon’s, and I quake as her finger trails over my back.

“Dom, you suffer so prettily,” she says, and I flush hot red. “But I think he’s being rather cruel, don’t you? We all know you are the opposite of disobedient.”

With the chain still held between my teeth, I can’t answer. Not that I would offer one anyway. I’ve learned over winter that Bridgette likes to set traps, and the alarm bells are already ringing in my head.

“You’re the picture of obedience, kneeling here so nicely,” she purrs as she sinks down beside me. Her hand reaches between my legs to wrap around my cock. “So maybe I can help make your punishment pass a little quicker.”

I whimper, my hands tightening to fists as the focuses around my fingers spark with charge. My eyes clench shut as I force myself to hold still, nose keeping the focus pinned even as Bridgette starts to stroke me. Her touches are deliciously firm, and it’s a struggle not to thrust into her hand. Well, maybe not that much of a struggle, because the second I try, the humbler pulls my testicles painfully. I’m barely bound, but helpless all the same.

“What a good little fuckboy,” she purrs, her lips close to my ear. “Suffering so nicely for your caster.”

My breath hisses through my nose as I bite down on the chain. With her touching me, it’s so much harder to keep still. My body trembles as I war with myself, fighting the urge to thrust into her grip and cause myself even more grief.

The office door opens, and I let out a muffled groan of both relief and anguish as Bridgette releases my cock. It hangs hard between my legs, and I tremble as Arlon huffs a laugh.

“This is supposed to be a punishment,” he points out.

Bridgette straightens, and relief floods me as her quiet footsteps retreat. “And it still is. I wasn’t about to let him finish without your permission.”

There’s the clack of a couple of dishes before Arlon’s chair creaks again. “Don’t worry. He’ll get plenty today,” the Grandmaster says. “He’s got a deficit of spells to make up, after all.”

I shudder at the promise even as another knock on the door makes my pulse spike. Behind me, both Arlon and Bridgette go still.

“Did you have any more meetings on your agenda today?” Bridgette asks.

“No,” Arlon says, his voice tight.

My stomach drops, but Bridgette immediately gets to her feet and comes over to me. She puts a hand on my back as I feel a shiver of magic against my skin. An illusion, I think.

“And this is exactly why we don’t like unexpected visitors. They sweep in and interrupt a perfectly good punishment,” Bridgette says, but her grin is apologetic. “Don’t worry, sweet boy. They can’t see or hear us.”

And thank the gods for that. As Arlon calls the unexpected visitor in, I recognize the clank of metal greaves without even having to look.

“Captain Thora,” Arlon says, his voice pinched. I can’t see his face, but the picture of him sweating in his chair is enough to make me smile around the chain in my mouth. It had been Arlon’s own order to keep any casting out of the sight of the guard, and I feel a thrill of gratification that he nearly broke that rule with my punishment. “To what do I owe this... unexpected visit?”

“Would you care to explain why the city guard found a couple of men trapped under an abjuration barrier outside of the Devilish Boar last night?” Thora demands.

In the shocked silence, my stomach drops before Arlon says, “I assure you, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You told me that you would keep your wizards in check, Grandmaster,” the Captain says. “Yet this isn’t the first incident that’s been reported of wizards tangling with the common folk of the city.”

Bridgette slides down to sit next to me as she rolls her eyes. I can’t help but feel the same. Ever since Garrett was made to attack the city square, folks in town have been suspicious, bordering on hostile, to the residents of the Crux. I have no doubt that whatever happened outside of the Devilish Boar wasn’t started by a wizard, though it sounds like they sure as hell ended it.

“And what did these men have to say about their situation?” Arlon asks, his tone carefully neutral.

“They claimed that a game of cards got heated before the two wizards involved attacked them after they left the tavern,” the Captain says.

“And were these men hurt?” Arlon asks.

“Other than a chill from being left out all night, no.”

Arlon sighs, and I can almost see him rubbing his eyes. “Captain, you know as well as I do that if a wizard is attacking someone, they won’t leave them unscathed and safely under an abjuration,” he says. “It sounds to me like a couple of drunks got angry after losing a card game and decided to start a ruckus. I won’t punish my wizards for using self-defense.”

“With no witnesses outside of the tavern, we have no way of determining if this was self-defense,” Thora says. “But regardless, you are missing the point, Grandmaster. I think it would behoove you to remind your wizards that any use of magic against the common people of the city will only exacerbate the current tensions.”

“Except for when that magic is healing them of the fever,” Bridgette mutters beside me even as her hand reaches down to my cock again. The thought of being hidden like this right under Thora’s nose makes my pulse roar, cock twitching at the perverse thrill of it. Even though I know the spell is silencing us, I bite back my moan, eyes clenching shut.

Arlon sighs again, and I can tell from that sound that he is picking his battle. “Of course, Captain,” he says, placating. “I will find which two wizards are responsible, and I assure you that they will be reprimanded appropriately.”

“See that you do,” the Captain says. “The city has gained a fear of magic, Arlon, and with rogue wizards running about, those fears are especially potent. I don’t want to see this tinderbox catch fire.”

Arlon’s chair creaks. “Understood, Captain. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

“Make sure it doesn’t happen again, Grandmaster,” she says before the metal clank of her armor retreats. The door to Arlon’s office opens and closes, and I shiver as Bridgette waves away the spell covering me.

“Well, that was pleasant,” Bridgette says lightly. I shift carefully, shaking from head to toe, and not just because I just avoided being seen in this state by the Captain of the fucking guard.

“She always is,” Arlon says through a sigh. His chair scrapes against the floor as he gets to his feet before he comes over to me. I look up at him pleadingly, and he lets out a huff of a laugh as he plucks the fully charged focus from under my nose.

I take it as permission to relax and groan as I let my head hang. His hands are gentle as he strokes over my neck and back before he kneels beside me, loosening the humbler from my testicles and the cuffs from my ankles.

“Well, that added an unexpected level to your punishment. Thank you for covering him, Bri,” he says as I turn to sit against the wall. He crouches in front of me, his hand cupping my cheek. “I’m sorry Dom, I never imagined I’d have visitors today. Are you alright?”

I lean into his hand as I smile hazily up at him. “I’m alright, sir. Have I been forgiven?”

Arlon reaches for the clamps on my nipples and tugs gently. I arch with a groan, trying to ease the strain. “Are you going to forget an order from me again?”

“N-no, sir,” I gasp, my head swimming. Arlon pulls one of the nipple clamps off, but the hot pain that lances through my tender skin is soothed as he closes his mouth over it, sucking gently. I whimper, arching against him as my hands tangle in his salt and pepper hair. He loosens the clamp on the other side, and his tongue feels better on my abused skin than any balm ever could.

“All is forgiven, then. You took your punishment so well,” he says as he plucks the charged focuses from my fingers. He helps me to my feet before he guides me over to his chair. When he sits, he pulls me into his lap, and it’s a relief to curl against him as I come down from the spell.

The humiliation fades, leaving me feeling warm and safe in his arms. And as I nuzzle against his neck, I realize that this type of enchantment is growing on me. Nothing else leaves me feeling such a bone-deep absolution than suffering through a punishment that I deserved.

“Well, I was planning on continuing your sparring lessons today,” Arlon says. “But now I need to find out who used that spell outside of the Devilish Boar.”

I’m a little relieved. As grateful as I am for the sparring lessons Arlon’s been giving me, getting beat into the snow and ice-cold mud for the past two weeks has gotten old. Olbric has been happy to assist in the lessons, especially because it’s an easy win every time. If I felt like my firefighting was improving, maybe I would be more eager to get back to it, but as it is, I still struggle not to freeze up every time a spell is leveled at me.

Arlon pulls out the guard rotation from one of the careful piles of parchment on his desk. “It looks like it was Ambra and Iona on duty at the anterior courtyard last night. Will you find them and ask who they saw coming back late last night?”

I’m more than happy to agree, especially after Arlon allows me to pull my shirt back on to cover the words he’s written on me. It takes some searching, but I find the two of them emerging from a casting room in the enchantment tower just before the lunch bell.

Ambra is flushed, smiling in the aftermath of whatever spell they just cast. The plump little blonde leans against Iona as the tall woman ushers her into the hall, but I scowl as Thaddius steps out behind them a second later.

As soon as the man catches sight of me, he smirks. “Morning, Dom.”

I glare at him, still feeling the ‘tardy’ that’s written under my clothes entirely because of him. I don’t answer and look at Iona instead. She’s an intimidating woman, and for some reason I feel like I get tongue-tied every time I try to talk to her. She’s tall with obsidian skin and coal-black hair that she keeps cropped close to her head. Her dark eyes look at me curiously.

“I’m sorry to catch you right after a spell, but you and Ambra were both on duty last night, right?” I ask.

Iona raises one dark eyebrow as she looks me over. “We were. Why?”

“Did anyone come back late last night?” I ask. “Would have probably been right around curfew.”

“Why?” Iona asks again, but going off her tone, I get the feeling that she already knows what this is about. Behind her, the smirk fades from Thaddius’ face.

“Arlon asked me to get their names,” I say. “Apparently there was an... incident outside of the Devilish Boar last night with a couple wizards and some drunk patrons. Arlon wants to talk to them about it.”

“I see,” Iona says through a long-suffering sigh before turning to glare at her lover. “I warned you that this wouldn’t stay quiet, love.”

Thaddius raises his hands and open his mouth to form some excuse, but I beat him to it. “Arlon got a visit from the guard captain this morning, so... no, it didn’t.”

Thaddius blanches. “Hey, it was self-defense! Those idiots couldn’t stand that Adan and I had won and followed us out of the Boar.”

I can’t be glad that there’s drama with the guard, but I’m glad to see Thaddius squirm. I smirk as I meet his eye and say, “Well, you can come down and tell that to Arlon yourself.”

The blond man glowers at me, but he jumps when Iona gives his ass a pinch.

“Go on, then,” she says. “Adan’s room is next to mine, so I’ll send him down as well when I see him.”

I give the tall woman a grateful smile. “Thank you, Iona.”

Iona nods as she tightens her arm around Ambra, but her smile takes on a wicked tilt as she looks at Thaddius. “Good luck, love.”

The man glowers as he turns to head down the hall, and I practically have to jog to catch up with him. I doubt he’s going to try and skirt what’s coming to him, but it’s satisfying as hell walking him down to the atrium. It’s rare I get to see divine retribution happen up close and so quickly, yet as we pass the mess hall, I can’t keep it in any longer.

“You know, I was late this morning thanks to an unusually sticky door,” I say lightly. Beside me, Thaddius’ glare looks fit to burn a hole into the floor of the atrium. “But I have a feeling my punishment’s got nothing on what you’ve earned.”

Thaddius’ face heats, and when we reach Arlon’s office, he slams the door shut behind him before I can follow. I chuckle as I lean against the wall, content to wait outside.

Through the door, I can only catch snippets of the conversation. Even as angry as Arlon sounds, he never yells. Thaddius, on the other hand, can be heard halfway down the hall. When Adan arrives a few minutes later, the pale, brown-haired wizard gives me a sheepish look before he knocks on the office door. Arlon calls him in, and it seems like the conversation starts all over again.

I just start to get bored when Thaddius bursts from the room. He doesn’t even look at me as he storms past, but he’s obviously not pleased with whatever punishment Arlon’s doled out to him. Adan follows a few steps behind, looking contrite, and I wait for him to pass before I head back into Arlon’s office.

Arlon’s face is pinched with annoyance, but his expression softens as Bridgette comes up behind him and starts to stroke her fingers through his hair. I close the door behind me and go to kneel in my normal spot by his desk, but as hot as the question burns, I don’t dare ask it. With how the walls of the Crux seem to talk, I bet I’ll hear what their punishment was by the end of the week. For now, I just hold onto the satisfaction of witnessing Thaddius’ comeuppance firsthand.

I jump as Arlon’s heavy hand lands on my head, snapping me out of my thoughts. His deep voice makes me shiver as he says, “You still owe me some spells, sweet boy.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“I’m going to get an illusion out of you, Bridgette is going to get a transmutation from you, and then when Garrett gets back from his shift, he’s going to get whatever he wants out of you, even if that’s just fucking your sore hole,” Arlon rumbles. “How does that sound?”

I can’t quite stop a groan as heat shoots straight to my cock. The question lets me know that I can negotiate, ask for specifics, but I don’t. Arlon knows what I love about as well as Bridgette knows what I hate, and I’m more than willing to take all of it.

I’m already floating as I let out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”

Unexpected Guest

Transmutation is the magic of transforming matter, and as such, the quality and materials used in your casting equipment is of the utmost importance. For example, you would not use a wooden pillory if you were trying to transmute iron.

Advanced Casting Principles: Transmutation by Namina Kimathi

I JUST FINISH PUTTING a streak of dark kohl under one eye when Dom walks into my room. His hair is wet from the baths, and in my mirror, I watch him head stiffly over to my bed before he sits with a groan. I grin even as I stamp down a pang of both jealousy and envy.

The feeling dies quietly, a whimper compared to the roar it used to be. Ever since I admitted to Dom that I was jealous of his and Arlon’s relationship, both of them have done everything they can to make me feel included and taken care of. Including bringing me in as Dom’s personal sparring partner, which has been peak entertainment these past few weeks. Besides, it’s given me a chance to see how Dom and Arlon are together, which has been an enlightening exercise in examining my own emotions. But at least it’s one that I’m getting good at.

“Do you need me to call Galiva?” I ask, amused.

“Maybe. Shame we just cleared out the infirmary,” he chuckles as he flops onto his side, grabbing my pillow. “As a heads up, you might want to steer clear of the baths for the time being. Thaddius is on the loudest rampage of latrine duty I think I’ve ever heard.”

I snort at that. Arlon doesn’t assign people to latrine duty unless they’ve done something exceptionally foolhardy. “Any idea what he did?”

“Got in a scrap with some drunks outside of the Devilish Boar with Adan the other night,” Dom says. “Left them under an abjuration for the city guard to find. The Captain paid a visit to Arlon yesterday.”

I pull the kohl pen away from my eye, mouth dropping open. “Are you serious?”

“As a toothache,” Dom says.

“God, that’s the last thing we need right now,” I mutter. “We’re getting enough nasty looks in town. But using magic against a couple of drunk civilians? What were they thinking?”

“Well, they’re thinking about latrine duty now,” Dom chuckles. “At least the punishment I got yesterday was more or less the fun kind.”

I don’t press for the details, even though I burn with curiosity. Knowing will just make that quiet voice of jealousy pipe up all over again, and besides, Dom’s not the type to talk about his casting encounters. Instead, I finish drawing the last little line of kohl before I frown at my reflection.

It takes me a moment longer to realize that Dom’s watching me in the mirror. He’s lying on his side, but he’s got a dreamy smile on his face that makes the moths in my stomach flutter their wings.

“What?” I ask, feeling a bit of heat creep up my neck.

He blinks, and his gaze focuses as it meets mine, his smile widening. “Nothing. You just look really nice today.”

The heat in my neck floods to my face, but I can’t help a grin as I reconsider myself. It’s far from the application I do when I’m dressing up for him, far even from the little bit of makeup I’ll occasionally wear around the Crux, but... I think I like it all the same.

“Did you still need to go into town?” he asks, and my good mood dips.

“Ah, hell. Yeah,” I say and reach for the washcloth in my little basin on instinct. Yet as my fingers brush the tepid water, I pause. I give my reflection one last look before I leave the cloth where it is. I’ve never worn anything but a bare face outside of the Crux, but Dom’s right. I look nice. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

WHEN I BUNDLE UP IN my heavy cloak and the fur-lined boots Cancassi gave me as a solstice present, Dom looks at me like I’ve grown a third leg. Winter has given way to spring, but in spite of what he claims, it’s still fucking cold out. Besides, the heavy snow that dumped a few days ago has already melted into big, wet chunks, turning everything into a sloshy, muddied mess that the tall boots keep off of me.

But because we need to pick up my casting supplies, we at least get to use a horse and cart instead of slogging down the road on foot. Dom takes the reins, wearing his usual trousers and a heavy shirt, but even then, he rolls his sleeves up before we’re even halfway into town.

“You’re inhuman,” I say, shivering in the seat next to him.

“You know, up in Airedale, we’ll get snow all the way through the end of May and sometimes into June,” he points out as he steers Mo into the freshly awakened grass beside the road rather than making the poor beast trek through the mud.

I shiver at the thought. Having it snow halfway through April is bad enough, especially when I thought the storm that buried all of Straetham last month was the end of it. “Until I came to the Eastern Tower, I’d never even seen snow.”

Now it’s his turn to give me a look. “Seriously?”

“I used to live on the edge of the desert, Dom,” I chuckle before I blow into my cold hands. “Even the Nahran mountains don’t see snow often.”

We reach the main road that’s paved in cobblestone, and our path gets a lot less bumpy. Dom gives me the reins before he closes his hands over mine. They’re as warm as a furnace, and he does his best to rub some of that warmth into me as I steer.

“I can’t even imagine it,” he says. He sounds a little wistful, and I level a smile at him. Sometimes it’s easy to forget just how little Dom has seen. Coming from Airedale in the mountains to Straetham in the foothills is not a long stretch in the grand scale of things.

“Don’t worry, country boy,” I tease. “You’ll get out there. Wizards are known to travel.”

He chuckles as he squeezes my fingers. “If Arlon would ever give me another assignment, maybe. Think going up the mountain to find you was my first and only?”

I snort. “Dominai of Airedale, one of the most promising up-and-coming wizards of the Crux, but God help you getting him to believe it.” He flushes and opens his mouth to respond, but I beat him to it. “Wait until the weather warms up a little more. Sure, it’s been an... unusually slow winter, but most of our work is seasonal. Frankly, you should be grateful Arlon didn’t ask you to go out this winter. You remember how much of a nightmare that avalanche Alix and Thaddius had to clean up was.”

Dom chuckles at that, no doubt remembering how the two of them had returned to the Crux looking like living icicles. Alix had stayed in the baths for nearly a full day after that, just trying to get the feeling back in his feet.

“I hope you’re right,” he says. “I think I’m just getting antsy. It’s been a long winter.”

“Tell me about it,” I mutter before I flick the reins to get Mo into a trot. Once my hands have warmed, Dom takes the reins back, allowing me to tuck them into my cloak to keep them that way.

I direct him through the city, marveling how the country boy who didn’t even know how to ride a horse is now driving one through the bustle of town without issue. He takes us all the way through town until we reach the line of shops just outside of the palace walls. He pulls us to a stop, and Mo’s ears flick at the clang of hammers that emanates from the nearby blacksmith.

“You need any help?” Dom asks as I step off of the cart.

“You’re still sitting tender, so stay put,” I tease. “I may need your help lifting it when we get back to the Crux.”

He chuckles but waves me off as I head through the door to the blacksmith. Inside, it’s so loud it puts my teeth on edge. The clang of hammers and roar of the furnace makes my ears ring, but at least it’s warm.

“Master Olbric,” a voice calls, and I look over as Robbert steps away from the forge he’d been tending. He takes off his blackened gloves to offer me a hand, and I shake it. “Glad my messenger found you. Let me show you what I’ve finished.”

He takes me out to the covered patio where there are a number of projects in various states of completion. He leads me to an unsealed crate and lifts the lid to show me the iron stand inside. I run my hand over the fixed iron collar, a grin splitting my face.

“Apologies it took so long,” Robbert says. “We don’t normally get such... odd requests.”

“No, I’m sure you don’t,” I chuckle. It looks perfect, like the man managed to pluck what was in my mind and create it out of iron. With luck, it’s sized right, though I’ll only be able to check that when I get Dom on it. “Thank you for your work on it. It looks perfect.”

“Between us and the upholsterer, I think we managed to include all of your specifications.” The man gives me a curious look as he hands me a small ring with two keys. “What are you going to do with it?”

I smile as I pocket the ring. “I’m going to make magic.”

ROBBERT AND A COUPLE of the other blacksmiths help load the heavy crate onto the cart. Dom looks downright alarmed at the size of the box, but I don’t let him so much as peek at the device as we make our way back to the Crux.

We pull up outside of the posterior courtyard before Symon emerges from the stables to meet us. But our cart isn’t the only one in the staging area. There’s an expensive-looking carriage drawn by two regal black horses. It’s tended by a bored coachman, but I recognize the woven cover stretched across it as distinctly Cairish.

“Symon, whose carriage is that?” I ask as my heart gives an uncomfortable thud inside of my chest. I didn’t travel across the Goddamn continent to the Crux just to have someone from my home country come and fetch me.

“A new ambassador, if I’m not mistaken,” the old stable hand says as he starts to unhitch Mo from our cart.

“From where?” I ask, voice pinched.

“I believe he said he was from out east, near the desert,” Symon says before he looks at the crate Dom and I have brought home. “Where would you like it?” I’m too busy watching one of the horses paw impatiently at the damp earth to register the question before Symon says, “Master Olbric?”

I snap my attention to him and give an apologetic smile. “If you could take it to my casting room in the evocation tower, please. I’m sorry to say it, but it’s on the fifth floor.”

Symon lets out a gust of a breath as he looks at the crate. “I’ll need to get some help, then.”

“I can help you out, Symon,” Dom says before he takes my suddenly clammy hand. “Are you alright?”

I give a strained smile as I say, “I need to see who’s visiting. I’ll meet you upstairs.”

He squeezes my hand gently, his smile a small comfort before he goes to help Symon. I hear him say, “I think I have a spell that can help,” but I’m already halfway across the courtyard.

An ambassador could only be here to see Arlon, so I cut across the atrium and head towards the Grandmaster’s office. I don’t make it halfway there before Arlon emerges from the hall with three people in tow. Two appear to be guards, dressed in leather armor that I recognize from the endless military drills my father made me watch when I was younger. But in front of them, walking side by side with Arlon, is a man that I recognize.

Or at least, I think I do. He’s aged, just as I have. If I’m right, the last time I saw him was when we were barely teenagers attending one of dozens of my father’s council meetings.

Now, he’s grown into himself. He’s around my height, his short, wavy black hair framing his handsome and sculpted face. It’s like he feels my gaze as his dark eyes travel to me, but his smile puts me on edge.

“Olammed bin Barric. It’s been a long time,” he says in Cashir, and I nearly flinch. It’s been half a decade since I used that name and hearing him call me Barric’s son grates against my ears like sand. “I’m glad to see you’re well.”

“It’s Olbric, now,” I say, not looking for any sort of reunion. “What are you doing here, Feisal?”

The man’s grin widens; he’s obviously pleased to be remembered. As the eldest son to one of my father’s advisers, no doubt that means something to him.

“I’ve been appointed ambassador to Straetham,” he says before turning to Arlon. He switches to Strae as he says, “It’s been a pleasure to finally see the marvel of the Crux in person. Thank you for facilitating a tour on such short notice, Grandmaster.”

Arlon gives him a short nod. “Of course, Ambassador Feisal. Please, feel free to send advance notice to my Chamberlain if you have any more questions I can answer.”

Feisal’s grin turns sly. “Are you certain I can’t send a single magiline bauble back to my Shykh? It really is such a beautiful stone.”

Arlon’s smile hardens. “As I said before, ambassador, I am not at liberty to issue Crux resources to anyone but wizards. You understand.”

Feisal gives a small nod of acquiescence. “Of course, Grandmaster. I had heard that wizards enjoy denying people, but I guess I hadn’t realized the extent.”

Arlon frowns at that, but something about how Feisal’s eyes flick knowingly to mine as he says it makes me freeze. His wording is... eerily similar to what I yelled at Dom in the mess hall yesterday.

“Thank you for coming by, Ambassador,” Arlon says politely, but his tone has cooled. “Your carriage will be brought up front in just a moment.”

Feisal bows shallowly. “My thanks, Grandmaster.” He turns to me as he says, “Maybe you would wait with me, Olammed? Your father asks after your health, and I would like to ease his worries.”

My stomach twists further at that. There’s no way the man could know I had the fever a few weeks ago. As fast as rumor spreads inside of the Crux, it doesn’t often make it out, especially not for something so... mundane and personal.

“I have a magical matter to attend to,” I say shortly, and Arlon puts a hand on my shoulder in a silent affirmation. He knows that I left Cairish with the intent to never speak to my father again, and I certainly don’t need anyone passing along information about me. The fact that Feisal asked so casually, like me uprooting my entire life to travel across the continent to escape my father was a negligible act, makes my skin crawl.

Feisal’s smile never waivers, though his gaze flicks to Arlon’s hand. “Of course. Please, don’t let me interrupt such important matters. I hope to see you soon, Olammed. It’s nice to see another Cashirem while so far away from home.” He nods to me before he heads to the door, his two guards in tow. There’s a cold rush of air through the atrium as the door opens and closes behind him that makes me shiver.

“I don’t like that man,” Arlon says, and I can’t help a small laugh.

“No, sir. Me neither.”

Arlon hums before he turns to look at me, concern tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Are you alright? I know that your father is a... difficult subject.”

I offer him a wan smile. “I’m alright,” I say through a sigh, and try to believe it. A visitor from home was the last thing I expected to deal with today.

“That question about your health...” Arlon says.

“It could have been just a general question?” I say, but it sounds weak even to my own ears. And if Arlon noticed it as well, it feels a lot less like paranoid speculation on my part.

“Possibly,” Arlon says, but he sounds equally unconvinced. “Feisal said he’s been in town for a few months now. Time enough to have potentially found a loose tongue among the staff.”

I wince at that, the very thought making my skin crawl. The staff that work the Crux are a discreet and loyal group, but there’s no saying how strong that loyalty would hold when confronted with the excess of Cairish coin that my father has.

“What more can I do to appease him?” I ask with a sigh. “Stop casting entirely? I’m sure that’s exactly what he wants, after all.”

Arlon and I already don’t cast with one another in the hopes of placating my father, though a lot of good that’s done. The Grandmaster still gets angry letters from him no less than four times a year, as if my father is counting the seasons by imagining all that Arlon could be doing with me.

“No,” Arlon says. “Though with the transmutation you are attempting to craft, I think that... heightened discretion would be best.”

I sigh at that. “Yes, sir. I’ll be sure it’s all kept behind closed doors.”

“Thank you, Olbric.” Arlon’s hand tightens on my shoulder in a reassuring squeeze. “With luck, we’re reading into this too deeply, but I feel like it’s better to be safe than sorry. I’ll make sure you’re warned if he tries to come by again. Hopefully he’ll actually send notice like I asked.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say, and his concern warms me some. “Though I fully expect he’ll fail to do that.”

Arlon lets out a huff of a laugh. “Then he can wait in the snow for all I care.” His hand tightens on my shoulder again before he lets go, and I’m a little sorry for the loss of the comforting weight. “Have a good afternoon, Olbric.”

I SWING BY MY ROOM to grab a few things before heading to my casting room. As I open the door, I’m greeted by the crackling fire that Dom’s already lit in the hearth. It chases the chill from the room, and I shake off the lingering unease of Feisal’s visit as I strip off my heavy cloak. Dom tosses one more log onto the flames before he looks over his shoulder at me.

“Who was it?” he asks as he comes over to me, dusting his hands off.

“No one important,” I say, but it’s like Dom can sense the untruth. I sigh and say, “I know him. His name’s Feisal, and he’s the son of my father’s financial advisers. Apparently he’s upped his standing if he’s been appointed ambassador for the entire Cairish oligarchy.”

Dom tsks at that as his hands slide around my waist. “Are you alright?”

I offer him a reassuring smile. “I’m fine. Though I have no doubt that he’s going to be writing home about this. I expect Arlon will receive an influx of angry letters from my father in about six months’ time. He dared to touch my shoulder, after all.”

“How scandalous,” Dom chuckles as he pulls me closer, his thumbs stroking up under my shirt in a way that is far too distracting for such an innocent touch. “Funny how he doesn’t think to send letters to anyone else in the Crux. You know, to the people you’re actually fucking.”

I chuckle and wrap my arms around him to pinch his ass. “You should be grateful that he doesn’t. Or else you’d be drowning in hate letters.”

Dom catches my lips in a gentle kiss, one hand lifting to cup my cheek. “You sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” I promise, but Feisal’s questions and Arlon’s request still nag at me. “Though I think we should keep any casting behind closed doors for the time being.”

Dom’s nose brushes mine gently as his hand trails towards the waist of my trousers. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

I shiver for a reason entirely separate from the cold before I grab his wrist and pull it away. “You didn’t peek, did you?”

“Who, me?” he asks with mock affront. “I would never.”

I chuckle as I lead him over to the crate in the corner. “Well, good.” I let go of him to grab the metal poker from the fire. I use it to pry open the lid before I crack open the walls of the box to fully reveal the iron stand. Dom’s eyes go wide.

“What the hell did you make?” he asks, but he sounds intrigued.

It really is rather stunning. I had expected it to look more utilitarian, but Robbert has done a fine job turning it into a work of art. The frame of it is a square of iron, but Robbert has dressed it up by covering it in a cushy pillow upholstered with gold-threaded wool. That little indulgence cost more than I care to admit, but I couldn’t resist such a beautiful fabric.

A domed seat rises from the center of the frame, like a saddle without a horn, and it’s perfect for someone to kneel over comfortably. Hidden on the seat and the base of the stand are two places to screw in various attachments. I find one of the attachments in the remains of the crate and screw the iron pole into the platform behind the domed seat. Dom’s eyes get even wider when he sees the shackles that rest near the bottom of the pole and the fixed collar that adorns the top.

“Oh,” he says as the picture comes together, but it’s not complete quite yet. I go to my cabinet and find the charged magiline phallus I’m looking for. I bring it back over to the stand and slip it into the little notch built into the top of the domed seat. “Oh.”

“Would you like to have a seat?” I ask.

Dom’s face flushes as he grins at me. “You wanting to test your spell out today?”

I look him up and down and say, “Only if you’re up for it. It’s an endurance-style spell, so you’ll be on it for a while.”

Dom chuckles, rubbing his flushed face as he looks the stand and phallus over. No doubt he’s still feeling his time with Arlon yesterday, but he’s nothing if not durable. “I think I can take it.”

To be certain, I tell him the details first. Yet as I describe all that I want to do to him, I see that familiar haze of excitement spread across his face. By the time I’ve told him all that the spell entails, he’s nodding eagerly, the bulge in his trousers impossible to miss. I don’t think I could ask for a more willing casting partner, and, not for the first time, I realize how lucky I am to have him.

“Then let’s get you settled,” I say as I pull him close by the waist of his trousers. Dom strips off his shirt before I can even get his trousers fully unlaced, and I chuckle at his eagerness. Once he’s divested of his shirt, I can’t help but notice the faded remnants of what appears to be inked words on the skin of his back. I trace the faint outlines with my finger, reading, ‘tardy,’ ‘disobedient,’ and ‘forgetful.’

“Let me guess. Part of Arlon’s punishment?” I ask, amused.

Dom flushes red down to his shoulders. “Sure was.”

I chuckle and kiss between his shoulder blades. “Well, that won’t do,” I say. “This is transmutation, not enchantment. I’ll just have to cover those up.”

Dom watches as I find my discarded cloak and reach into the pocket. I fish out a little clay pot and a brush made of soft rabbit fur. I open the lid of the pot, showing Dom the fine gold powder that I sometimes use to dust my eyelids when I dress up for him.

“This spell has cost you an arm and a leg, hasn’t it?” he says, sounding amused.

I grin as I dip the brush into the gold powder before I circle behind him. He shivers as the brush dances over his skin, obscuring the remnants of the inky words in gold powder. “I’m trying to make gold out of iron, Dom. It’s bound to be expensive.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Let’s hope for the sake of your purse that this works,” he says, and jumps as I bring the brush over his ass. I make sure he’s well covered before I circle around in front of him.

I tease the brush over his chest, using a liberal amount of the gold powder to coat his pale skin. “It’s not sticking as well as I hoped it would,” I admit, only to grin as an idea strikes me. I lean down and close my mouth over his nipple, tongue toying with the sensitive skin until Dom groans. Only then do I pull away, and the powder sticks much better this time.

I repeat the process on his other side, seeing Dom’s hands flex, like he wants nothing more than to touch me. But that’s not allowed for this spell. I told him I wanted to make him feel pampered and important during this spell, which means no reciprocation allowed. Instead, I worship him slowly, trailing gentle kisses down his stomach as I kneel before him.

His cock is already hard, but I deliberately avoid it, dusting the gold powder over his hips. I bring the brush tantalizingly close to his length, and he shivers as a quiet moan breaks past his lips. I press a kiss to the tip of his cock, tasting the salt of his precum as I brush the gold over his testicles, earning a needy little chuckle from him.

“That’s not fair,” he says breathlessly.

“What’s not fair?” I tease, my lips brushing his cockhead as I inch his legs apart. I tease the brush even further back to the sensitive bit of flesh between his testicles and his ass. He groans, legs shaking as he fights off the desire to slam his legs closed against the ticklish touch.

“Olbric,” he moans, and I love the way my name sounds on his lips. I take pity on him as I draw his length into my mouth. He lets out a muffled sound of pleasure, and his hands raise to rest on my head before he remembers the no-touching rule. With his people-pleasing tendencies, I should have known that this would be a very particular kind of torture.

I worship every inch of him, tongue teasing around his head and down his shaft. The tremble in his legs gets even more pronounced, but they nearly buckle as I swallow him to the hilt. My nose presses firm against his stomach, my throat working around him, and when I look up, his eyes are wide with lust as he watches me.

“Fucking hell, Olbric,” he mutters, only to groan in disappointment when I pull back. I give the weeping tip of his cock a parting kiss before I brush his length with the gold powder as well. Only once I’ve coated him thoroughly do I stand and admire my handiwork.

Dom looks radiant, the gold powder making his fair skin shine. He looks like some sort of trophy. A fitting image, I think. Something valuable, something prized.

I close the distance between us again as I capture his lips. He moans, my tongue tangling with his as I back him up against the wall. The taste of him is so addictive that it’s a challenge to pull back to break for air.

Dom smiles at me, his lips swollen and red, his freckled face flushed with desire and excitement. God, but I’ve missed that face. I could never regret letting Dom collar me, but I sure have missed seeing the haze of submission on him so clearly. He’s even stopped trying to reach for me, as if he’s finally accepted his role as something to be treasured.

I grab his arm before I spin him, coaxing his legs apart. He lets out a groan of anticipation, bracing against the wall as he cants his ass out, begging with everything but words. I know what he wants, but I can’t give it to him just yet.

Instead, I pull out the little bottle of oil from my pocket and coat my fingers. When I tease into him, he shivers, his back arching as he spreads his legs even wider. I take my time to prepare him, scissoring my fingers as I thrust and twist gently. He rests his forehead against the wall, his hands clenching as I massage his prostate. I only stop once his cock is leaking, his moans starting to take on a desperate edge.

When I finally pull my fingers free, he lets out a quiet whimper of disappointment. I chuckle as I rest my hands on his hips, feeling him tremble. He’s ready now.

Wordlessly, I guide him away from the wall and over to the stand. I slather the charged magiline phallus with lube, feeling the tingling spark of energy as I touch it. When I’m done, I guide Dom to stand over it before pushing him to kneel.

His knees hit the soft cushion of the platform, and he lowers himself until the top of the toy teases at his hole. He gasps, arching as the phallus touches him, but I put my hand on his shoulders and gently guide him to sit. He opens around the stone toy, thrusting down slowly before his ass finally comes to rest against the domed seat, the toy buried deep inside of him.

“Ready?” I ask as I pick up the last piece of the stand.

Dom’s expression is already softened by the haze of conspace, and he smiles as he nods up at me. I screw the iron pole into the slot behind him before I guide his hands behind his back and into the shackles. There’s a quiet click as they fasten around his wrists, locking his hands behind him. I guide him to lean back before I close the collar around his neck.

It immobilizes him on the domed seat, forcing him to keep his chest arched out. It’s a pretty pose, but nothing too strenuous by design. Dom moans deeply as he sinks into his gilded prison, his hands clenching to fists in the iron shackles.

I pull out a handful of uncharged focuses from my pocket and slide them down his straining cock. He lets out a surprised shout, and I’m pleased to see the shine of magic already start to flow into the stone.

“Comfortable?” I ask as I pump his length leisurely, letting the stone focuses massage him.

Dom nods mutely even as he strains against the stand, trying and failing to thrust up into my grip. I’d had the whole thing created to fit him, and between the collar around his neck, the shackles on his wrists, and the phallus buried deep in his ass, he’s anchored to the stand. The gold adorning his skin turns him into a living, breathing idol.

I stroke his length for a moment longer before I push the focuses snug around the base of his cock. When I take my hands off of him, he wails and slumps against the stand, his body taut as the phallus sends pulses of energy to the deepest parts of him.

Even though I’d designed the whole spell, pictured how he would look, the sight of him, radiant and trembling, makes my cock ache. Watching him conduit never gets old. His eyes are closed, his lower lip held between his teeth. He grinds against the stand and phallus as well as the strict iron bondage will let him, and his cock jumps as the focuses around it pulse with light.

I walk a slow circle around him, admiring him from every angle. He watches me with heavily lidded eyes, and it’s a struggle to keep quiet when I want to do nothing but whisper sweet filth into his ear.

I resist, though. Giving him any sort of praise or degradation could skew the spell effect towards enchantment, which has been the constant struggle for me while pursuing a transmutation mastery.

But how else can I tell him what he means to me? How much I treasure him?

During the darkest part of winter, when the memories of being attacked by Diran and his wizards would wake me up at night, he was there to whisper me back to sleep. When I caught the fever, he made sure I always had hot tea for my throat and a cold towel for my head, but it was his uncanny ability to make me laugh even when I was feeling at my worst that truly helped me through it.

It’s not even been a full year since he came to the Crux, yet it feels like I’ve known him for so much longer. I can’t imagine a life without him.

I kneel down on the platform behind him as I press my lips against his shoulder. His skin is heated, beads of sweat starting to draw lines through the gold powder on his chest. He moans at the innocent touch, and when I look at the focuses around his cock, I can see that they’re glowing with a soft, golden light.

I’m not sure how long I stay there, just enjoying the feel of him as I pepper gentle kisses along his neck and back. Like I’m trying to silently tell him all that he means to me even though I haven’t gathered the courage to say it all out loud yet. I hope he can feel it all the same.

Quiet sounds of pleasure escape him as he strains against the collar, his cock red and weeping under the focuses. I smile as I reach around to grab his length, making him buck as well as he’s able to in the strict iron stand.

No doubt his knees are starting to ache, and his hole even more so. It looks like we’ve created something with this, but I can’t help but worship him a little longer as I stroke his rigid length. A wanton moan rattles out of him, and his thighs flex as he vainly tries to thrust into my hand.

“P-please,” he whimpers, pleasure and torment thickening his voice. I pause my strokes and the sound he makes is pure need. The stand clanks as he sinks helplessly back against the domed seat.

Without fully getting to my feet, I slide in front of him. His green eyes are hazy and unfocused, but as soon as I come into sight, they focus on me like I’m the only thing in the world.

I reach out to stroke his cheek, my thumb brushing his lips. He opens his mouth, ready to pull my finger in, but he stops himself with a quiet groan. His restraint makes the moths in my stomach flutter, and not just because it’s been a fucking delight seeing him like this. Even with his pupils blown wide with lust, his body shaking with need, he still remembers the rules of the spell.

I kiss his forehead as my fingers tease at his cock. The focuses around it glow a warm gold color, and when I lift them free, the spell we’ve made feels as cool as silk. I put the focuses in my pocket for now. There will be time to see if we’ve done it, but for now, I’ve got more important things to attend to.

Dom shouts his gratitude as I wrap my fingers around his length. I pour a little more oil on top of my palm before I start to stroke him in earnest, ruining the dusting of gold. He sinks against the stand, his moan taking on a desperate edge.

“Please, please, don’t stop,” he gasps. “Oh fuck, Olbric, please.” His eyes scrunch closed, his hands clenching to hold onto the back of his seat as he tenses.

The sound of my name on his lips makes me shiver. “Say it again.”

“Olbric!” he gasps before his end overtakes him. He lets out a long low moan as he coats my hand, the stand clanking as his body shudders in its strict confines. When his pleasure finally abates, he slumps against his seat, chest heaving.

“Incredible,” I murmur as I catch his lips. “You were incredible, Dom.”

He gives a hazy smile as I pull the keys from my pocket before starting to unlock him. First the collar, and then his wrists. He leans forward with a groan, bracing his hands on the domed seat in front of him.

I help him stand, his legs turned to jelly by the pulsing magiline toy. Together, we stumble over to the distant bed where I pull him to lay down with me. I wrap my arms around him, not caring that this shirt is going to get completely coated in gold powder.

Dom’s own arms find their way around my waist as he buries his face against my chest. I trail my fingers down his back, my other hand stroking through his auburn hair as I savor the quiet. Some days, it feels like I could stay here forever, just listening to the sound of him breathing.

But slowly, gradually, he comes down from the high of the spell. He tilts his head up and smiles at me before his lips press against the underside of my chin.

“How’d we do?” he asks quietly.

I pull one of the focuses from my pocket to show to him. Dom picks one up and rolls it between his fingers. “Feels like transmutation,” he says before offering it back to me.

I take it before I reach into my pocket and find the little ring of keys. My heart thuds with excitement as I strip the keys off and close my fingers around the iron ring. I release the spell, and the gaps between my fingers glow with a golden light, hand tingling as if I’ve touched a resonating bell.

And when I open my hand, there’s a small pile of gold powder in my palm where the iron ring used to be.

Conundrum

One of the most overlooked aspects of transmutation is your conduit’s headspace. Making sure your conduit has fully embraced their role as an object can often be the difference between a successful spell and a failure.

Advanced Casting Principles: Transmutation by Namina Kimathi

––––––––

FOR THE FIRST TIME in a long while, Olbric wakes up before me. The morning sun warms his room, and for a moment, I’m so cozy I can’t bring myself to move. Instead, I watch him scribble on a piece of parchment at his desk, his lips tilted into a frown. Then I notice the little pile of gold powder and iron scraps on the desk next to him.

“I swear, the only time you wake up early is when you’ve got a problem to solve,” I mutter before I grab his pillow and hug it close. It smells of the honeyed soap he washes his hair with, and I groan sleepily as I breathe it in.

Olbric snorts, his round reading spectacles low on his nose. “And the only time you sleep this late is when you’ve overdone it.”

I stretch and realize he’s not wrong. My whole body aches. After all of Arlon’s rough use on Monday, maybe it wasn’t the wisest idea to jump straight into an endurance-style transmutation spell with Olbric the day after.

“Worth it,” I murmur, but resign myself to taking the next couple of days off.

“You’re not wrong,” Olbric says before turning to glare at the items on his desk. “Just wish I could figure out why the spell isn’t the caliber I expected it to be.”

I sit with a groan before letting Olbric’s sheets fall away. After the baths last night, I hadn’t bothered to put anything on, but Olbric doesn’t seem to mind as I come and drape my arms around his shoulders. I frown when I look down and see one piece of iron scrap that looks like it was half-turned to gold before the magic fizzled out.

He’s used a couple of the castings we got, but I scoop up one of the remaining ones. It definitely has the feel of a transmutation, but it’s not as strong as I expected it to be.

“It was probably me,” I admit sheepishly and hand the focus back to him. “After Monday, I may have been a little too worn out to give you my best.”

Olbric tsks. “Dom, you were not the problem.” He tilts his head back to look up at me, a soft smile on his face. “You were incredible.” And fuck if that doesn’t make me feel warm all over. Olbric sighs as he looks back down at his notes, charcoal pen tapping against his parchment. “The elements of the spell are there. We turned iron into gold, but... the power behind the magic is missing.”

I hum as I think it over. With a school like evocation, the juxtaposition of pain and pleasure is what amplifies the power of a spell. With abjuration, the more challenging the rope tie, the stronger a barrier you’ll create. But transmutation is a finicky school by comparison, and I’m by no means an expert on the intricacies that make it work.

“Maybe we can ask Arlon?” I say. “I bet he’ll have an idea.”

Olbric sighs and tilts his head back to look up at me. “Breakfast first?”

I chuckle and press a quick kiss to his lips. “Breakfast first.”

#

YET ARLON PROVES TO be a hard man to catch. Olbric and I try his office multiple times over the next few days, but whatever mess he’s dealing with in the aftermath of Thaddius and Adan’s scrap outside of the Devilish Boar is keeping him busy. Either his door is closed in a seemingly endless string of meetings, or it’s open and he’s not in it.

“You know, there are other transmuters in the Crux,” Cancassi points out after listening to Olbric’s frustrations over dinner. The Maeve twirls the end of their white braid around one long finger, copper eyes shining in the dim light of the evening mess hall. “But to help, I’ll need to be let in on the big fucking secret of this spell.”

I’ve understood Olbric’s need to keep it quiet, but it seems like ever since we tested it, he’s clammed up even harder. Now, he seems to war with himself as he looks at Cancassi.

“Alright,” he says at last. “But you have to keep it quiet. Arlon wanted to keep this spell on a need-to-know basis even before I was on the brink of figuring it out. So far, only Arlon, Galiva, and Dom know.”

After Olbric first told me about the spell, he stressed that we couldn’t talk openly about it, but I hadn’t realized that Arlon was the one requiring such secrecy.

Cancassi only seems more intrigued. “Oh, see, that’s just unfair,” they say. “Now you have to tell me.”

Olbric snorts and glances around the mess hall. “Not here,” he says, but Cancassi is only so patient.

By the time we finish dinner and head out of the mess hall, Cancassi all but drags the two of us to their room on the first floor. They point one long-fingered hand at Olbric and say, “Spill it.”

Olbric raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Pushy!”

I chuckle as I take a seat on Cancassi’s overlarge bed, leaning back on my elbows as Olbric gives them the details. Since we did our practice spell, I’ve heard him go over the theory of it so many times that I feel like I could recite it myself. It all sounds very familiar until Cancassi chimes in.

“The elements all sound well and good, but what are you doing to make Dom feel valuable during the spell?”

I peel an eye open to see Cancassi sitting in their comfortable reading chair in the corner. Their legs are tucked up underneath them, one hand massaging their bad thigh. Olbric paces the length of the room, but it’s like he can feel me watching because he gives me a soft smile.

“I mean... I was afraid of skewing the spell towards enchantment,” he says. “So I couldn’t just whisper praise to him like I wanted to.”

“Just because you talk to your conduit during a casting doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll get enchantment,” they say. “It’s a matter of what you say. Sure, you can call him your good little fuckboy, and you’ll definitely get enchantment, but for the purpose of this spell, you need to make Dom feel valuable and prized. So, how can you do that?”

Olbric sighs and he stops his pacing to flop onto the bed next to me. He turns his head to smile at me, and I can’t help but think that look he’s giving me definitely does it. “Well?” he asks. “What would make you feel as prized as the treasure you are?”

I flush hot red, a surprised laugh escaping me. “Fuck if I know.”

Cancassi chuckles and says, “No offense to Dom, but for a spell where value and worth are pinnacle, it probably wasn’t the best idea to use a conduit with self-esteem issues.”

Even though they say it in jest, it plucks a thread of uncertainty in me. It’s something I’d considered too, but I cover it with a huff of a laugh. “Rude.”

“It was not a dig, just an observation,” they say as they hold up a placating hand.

“You’re wrong, Cass,” Olbric says, and his serious tone catches me off guard. He meets my eye when he says, “Dom’s the perfect conduit for this spell.”

My face gets, impossibly, hotter. “Well, you saying stuff like that makes me feel pretty good,” I mutter as I try and fail to rub the blush from my cheeks.

Olbric chuckles and spoons up beside me. “What else can I do? Worship you on your pedestal?”

His lips find my neck, making my skin shiver even as his hand strokes up under my shirt. “Praise me too much, and I know it’ll turn to enchantment,” I warn. “Arlon’s done it a couple of times now, but it does make a nice little spell to charm people, though.”

Olbric’s hands get more adventurous, teasing at the hem of my trousers. Even though the weather’s gotten warmer this week, his cold fingers are a shock against my skin. Though not an entirely unwelcome one.

“Maybe I should shower you with gifts like some sort of golden deity?” he asks, his hand reaching down further to tease at my cock.

“I’m pretty sure that’s blasphemous,” I chuckle breathlessly even as I arch into his touch.

“If you two are going to feel each other up on my bed, you could at least let me join,” Cancassi says, and I glance over to see their heated gaze watching us from across the room.

Olbric’s arms wrap around me, his leg hooking over my waist as he clings to me like a bat. “Nope. I’m not sharing today.”

Cancassi hums before they rise smoothly from their chair. They stalk over to us, their copper eyes shining like a mountain cat’s in the dim light of the room. “Oh, is that right?”

Their tone makes me shiver, but Olbric tightens his grip on me possessively. “Don’t make me fight you off, Cass,” Olbric teases, but the thought sends a thrill of excitement through me. “I’ve beaten you sparring, and I’ll beat you in the sheets, too.”

It had been a hell of a thing to witness. On my first sparring lesson, Arlon had asked the two of them to demonstrate, and it had been just as awe-inspiring as seeing Arlon battle Garrett in the square all those months ago, though far less harrowing.

“Fighting over me, huh?” I chuckle. “I kinda like the idea of that.”

Behind me, Olbric gasps, his grip on me suddenly loosening. Before I can react, his hands grab my face and pull me into a kiss that makes my head spin.

“Dom, you’re a genius!”

I blink, a little dazed as I roll fully onto my back to look up him. “I am?”

Olbric chuckles and straddles my waist before he kisses me again, gentler this time. When he pulls away, his face is bright with excitement. “You’ve given me an idea.”

“I-I have?”

Olbric laughs, and the sound makes my heart do a little flip-flop in my chest. Cancassi joins us on the over-sized bed, and their copper eyes flash with amusement as they lay on their side next to us.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” they ask slyly.

I look from them up to Olbric as he brings his lips to my neck, his hands finding my wrists. He lifts them and pins them gently by my head. My pulse spikes as his teeth graze over the side of my neck in a slow, soft bite.

“Imagine this,” he purrs against my skin. “You, mounted on your platform, dressed like the prize you are, in front of a cheering crowd that is watching us compete for the chance to have you.”

That surprises a laugh out of me even as my cock twitches at the idea. Olbric’s hands tighten around my wrists, and the laugh morphs into a groan as he nips my neck a little harder. “Just think of it. What a mess you’d be with that phallus deep in you, keeping you pristine and ready for whoever wins you.”

I swear, and suddenly Olbric’s weight against my crotch is near unbearable. There are far too many layers of clothes between us, and it becomes achingly obvious.

“Fucking hell, you’re filthy,” I mutter. “But I’m listening.”

Olbric chuckles, and him and Cancassi must share some silent conversation because Cancassi grabs my wrists to keep them pinned as Olbric’s hands tease down my chest. Cancassi’s cool lips capture mine, and I moan into the kiss, arching as Olbric scoots down to sit on my thighs, his fingers finding the waist of my trousers as he lifts my shirt up.

“It’s an endurance-style spell, so you’d be there for a couple of hours,” Olbric says. I gasp against Cancassi’s lips as Olbric’s warm breath brushes my stomach. His lips caress my skin as the laces of my trousers loosen. “Kept teased and desperate and oh so willing for whoever happens to come out the victor.”

I moan as he tugs my trousers down, his lips trailing to follow. “Because what is a prize if not something to be fought over and claimed?”

His mouth is suddenly around my cock, swallowing me to the hilt, and I can’t help but shout my gratitude. Cancassi is quick to claim my lips again as Olbric’s nose brushes my navel, his throat working around me. The fight goes out of me as I slump against the bed, accepting the ravishment.

Cancassi barely lets me breathe, kissing me senseless as Olbric works my cock over with his lips and tongue and throat. I tug vainly at Cancassi’s grip, but the extra joint in their fingers gives their hands surprising strength that is able to keep me pinned.

Olbric’s tongue rolls around the head of my cock, and my eyes shoot open wide. “F-fuck!” I gasp, breaking the kiss for air as I arch between them. “Oh c’mon, let me at least touch you!”

Cancassi chuckles against my lips. “No hands,” they say. “But you can certainly use your mouth.”

I groan, keeping my hands fisted in their sheets even as Cancassi slips their skirt down and off. They move until they’re straddling my shoulders, their hard cock coming to rest against my lips. I open my mouth, and they thrust in, gagging me far more efficiently than their lips could.

It’s a struggle to keep my hands on the bed as Cancassi starts to fuck my mouth. Olbric pulls off of my cock with a wet pop, but with Cancassi over me, I can’t even see what he’s up to. I can only wait, my body trembling, cock rigid and waiting.

I feel him shift as he slings one leg over my waist to straddle me. There’s the drag of Cancassi’s bedside drawer being opened, the rustle of something, and then, Olbric’s slick warmth is enveloping me as he sits. I moan my gratitude, earning a little sound of pleasure from Cancassi as I do.

Olbric lets out an appreciative sigh as his hips settle fully against mine, my cock sheathed deep inside of him. He wraps an arm around Cancassi’s shoulders and pulls them back against his chest. It makes their cock pop out of my mouth, and I watch with wide eyes as Olbric turns their head to kiss them.

The two of them together is an achingly beautiful sight, and I can’t help but lift my hands to grab Cancassi’s waist as Olbric plunders their mouth. Yet as soon as I do, they break the kiss, copper and hazel eyes turning to glare down at me.

The silent command makes me slap my hands back against the bed with a swear. Olbric chuckles before he pulls Cancassi back into another kiss as he starts to leisurely ride me. The feel of him combined with the sight of the two of them, tongues entwined, is nearly enough to set me off.

It’s impossible to tear my gaze away, especially when Olbric reaches one hand around to grab Cancassi’s cock. He starts to pump in time with his thrusts as he spears himself on my cock over and over.

“Open your mouth, Dom,” Cancassi orders, their voice trembling.

I whimper and do as I’m told, sticking my tongue out to accept whatever they give me. It only takes a few more strokes before Cancassi cums with a shout. I shudder as their seed paints my face, tasting the salty ribbons that make it into my mouth.

It makes my head swim, but then, Olbric grabs Cancassi’s hips to readjust their position. I can only watch as Olbric pulls them back to thrust into their dripping slit even as he grinds down on my cock. Cancassi lets out a low moan that I can’t help but echo.

“F-fucking hell,” I gasp, my hands tightening in the sheets as I watch Olbric fuck both me and Cancassi in turn.

His black hair has come free from its tie, cascading over his shoulder as he holds Cancassi’s lithe figure against him. Cancassi’s pale face is flushed with pleasure, their eyes rolling as Olbric spears them with a deep thrust.

The sight of the two of them is my undoing. Olbric grinds down on me, and I swear as I arch to meet him, thrusting up as my cock empties into him. His eyes flutter with pleasure, but he holds off his own end with dogged determination. And as soon as I’m finished, he pitches Cancassi forward. He pulls off of me before pinning Cancassi between us as he fucks their slit in earnest.

The sound of their musical whimpers makes gooseflesh break out on my skin. Their hands grip my shoulders, mouth finding mine as they lick and suck their own seed from my skin. And when they cum again, Olbric moans, gripping them tightly as he finally finishes.

We’re left in a sweaty, sticky pile after that, panting to catch our breath. I brush my hair out of my face, feeling the remains of Cancassi’s seed sticking to my hair, and let out a small laugh.

“Yup,” I pant. “Yeah. Alright. I’ve been convinced. Let’s put on a tournament, then.”

#

“YOU WANT THE CRUX TO host a magical tournament...” Arlon looks between Olbric and I, eyebrow raised. “And Dominai has agreed to be the prize?”

I give a crooked grin as I rub the back of my neck. “I figure that whoever wins the tournament will get me for the night.”

Arlon looks back to Olbric. “You think that this will make your transmutation spell viable?”

“No.” Olbric reaches into his pocket to pull out the handkerchief that’s filled with the half-transmuted iron scraps and gold powder. He sets the pile on Arlon’s desk as he says, “But I do think it’ll help increase the power of it.”

Arlon lets out a long breath as he looks down at the pile. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he rubs his face. “You’ve done it.”

“I’ve almost done it,” Olbric says as he sinks into one of the chairs in front of Arlon’s desk. I take the other as he continues. “I’m not satisfied with the power of it, which is why I want to make Dom the prize for the tournament. I think that by ascribing Dom a value aside from his normal charming self, we’ll get the caliber of spell I’m hoping for.”

“I think you just want an excuse to parade me around naked for a day,” I chuckle.

“It’s certainly an added bonus,” Olbric says with a wink.

Arlon pinches some of the gold powder between his fingers and puts his spectacles on to examine it closer. “You know, when you told me what you wanted to do for your transmutation mastery, I didn’t think it was possible.” He looks up at Olbric, and the pride on his face is obvious. “This is incredible work, Olbric.”

Olbric gives an almost shy smile as his face flushes dark. “Thank you, sir.”

Arlon dusts the gold powder carefully back onto the handkerchief. “The secrecy of the spell is... a concern,” Arlon says. “With a setup like this, it’ll be impossible not to disclose the fact that we’re working on something.”

“But anyone who’s not versed in magic won’t know what the spell is,” Olbric points out. “With a few extra precautions, we can keep Dom’s presence as discreet as possible.”

Arlon goes quiet, and I catch Olbric’s eye as I give him a reassuring smile.

“Alright,” Arlon says around a breath. “If Dom’s alright with it, I think we can facilitate this. You’re already doing the impossible, so if you think that holding a tournament is going to give you the power you want out of it, then we’ll hold a tournament.”

Olbric beams at me and seeing him so happy warms me from the inside out. “Thank you.”

Arlon looks to me. “Are you sure you’re alright with being the prize? That means that any wizard who competes could win you.”

I flush hot at the thought. I’m definitely not opposed to being loaned out, but Olbric must take my silence as hesitation. He reaches out to squeeze my hand as he says, “Not to brag, but I have won the last two tournaments we’ve put on.”

I chuckle and bring his hand to my lips in a quick kiss. “I’m not worried about that,” I say. “Just curious to see who you’ll be up against.”

“Cancassi, no doubt,” Arlon says. “They’re petitioning for their evocation mastery, so as part of that, they need to show competence in a firefight. In the past, confirmation fights are why we’ve held these tournaments. As for anyone else, I’ll make the announcement at dinner tonight and get a full list by Monday.” He looks at me with a small smile. “You’ll have the final say on competitors and can exclude anyone you aren’t comfortable with.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say, and some of my nerves about the situation are put at ease by that. They’re ramped right back up when he asks his next question.

“Now, do you want this to be a closed event, or will we open it up to the public like we’ve done in the past with these tournaments?”

I swallow as I look between him and Olbric uncertainly. I already know what this spell entails and have to ask, “Are we going to... offend someone with this?”

Olbric chuckles and says, “I’ll make sure you’re covered. There’s not much to do to hide you while you’re on the stand, but I’m sure that I can make it so we’re not... obscene about it.”

“We would have you far separate from any onlookers, likely under some manner of tent to keep eyes off of you,” Arlon says. “And since Olbric will be competing, I will be right by your side to monitor you.”

Olbric nods his agreement and I know that Arlon will take good care of me. “Alright,” I say. “I’m fine with spectators, then. Anything we can do to build the spectacle will probably help the spell, right?”

“That’s my hope,” Olbric says. “Besides, just think of what it’ll be like to have a crowd of people watching me win my prize?”

It’s hard to even imagine, and I chuckle as I try to rub the blush from my face. We’re not even casting, and already the thought of this spell is making me feel some kind of way. I shift in my seat, trying to disguise the tent that’s forming in my trousers.

Gods, I really am an exhibitionist.

“All casting aside, a tournament like this should be good publicity for us,” Arlon says, drawing me out of my sordid thoughts. “I don’t think I need to tell you two that the Crux’s relationship with Straetham is... strained right now. Giving the people a spectacle of magic, showing them the wizards that are safeguarding the kingdom, may help ease some of the current tensions. So, thank you for posing this idea. I think this is exactly what we need.”

I can’t help but return the smile that Arlon gives us. With how much stress he’s been under this winter, I feel like I’ve seen his frown etch lines into his face. I’m glad to give him a reason to smile.

Sparring Practice

Fighting with magic is just as much of a learned art as creating it. To become a competent firefighter is to let go of fear and trust in the magic you have woven.

Magical Tactics by Eroland Lockhart

––––––––

TRUE TO HIS WORD, ARLON gives me the final list of contestants when I arrive at his office with my collar around my neck the following Monday. Yet when I go to take the little scrap of parchment from him, he pulls it away with a mischievous grin.

“How are you going to earn it, Dom?” he asks playfully.

I meet his grin, glad to find him in a good mood this morning. Better to show than tell, so I sink to my knees in front of his chair and nose at the bulge in his trousers as I look up at him.

He smirks down at me before he motions me into the little alcove under his desk. I duck into it, finding my little pile of blankets right where I left them. Arlon’s hand reaches down to rest expectantly on the top of my head.

“Then get to work, sweet boy.”

I eagerly do as I’m told. My teeth find the laces of his trousers and tug them loose, my hands staying firmly planted on the ground. I nose his cock out from his underthings, and Arlon lets out a quiet groan as his length hardens.

His size used to intimidate me, but he’s trained me well. I can take him in every way, and I aim to please as I roll my tongue up his length before I pull his thick head into my mouth. Slowly I work my way down, slicking him with my saliva as I bob my head down further.

With me under his desk, I can’t see his face, but his appreciative rumble of a moan is almost as good. I savor the slow worship, inching further down until I open my throat up to swallow him to the root.

His fingers tangle in my hair, holding me flush to him. His length fills my throat, and I swallow around him until the lack of air makes me sputter and gag. Only then does he allow me to pull back for a breath, but I understand his silent command. I get myself under control before I open my throat right back up to swallow him again.

His voice is layered with pleasure as he orders, “Stay right there, Dom.”

He keeps my nose pressed against his navel, and with him sheathed in my throat, I can feel his cock swell. He groans in release as the taste of him floods my mouth. My eyes water as I fight off another gag, but his grip on my hair doesn’t allow me to pull away. Only once his cock gives a final twitch does he loosen his grip on my hair. I gasp and cough as I pull off of him, but I only take a moment to recover before I obediently lick his softening length clean.

His chair creaks as he sits back, letting out a contented groan. He gives my head a gentle pat before he pulls his hand away, and when it returns, he’s got the little sheet of parchment held between his fingers.

“Good boy.”

I chuckle as I take the list of competitors before settling back into my blanket nest to open it, excitement pooling in my gut. The idea of people actually fighting to win a night with me is a thrill, and as I open the list, I have no doubt that this spell will be a success.

The list starts just as I thought it would. Olbric’s name is scrawled first, following by both Cancassi and Galiva. Olbric and Cass were a given, but I hadn’t expected Galiva to sit on the sidelines for something like this, either.

Next up is Alix, and I can’t help a quiet shiver of delicious fear at the thought of him winning. Since winter, he’s regained some of his old reputation as a caster not to fuck with. I still haven’t conduited for him, but I got to watch an evocation and transmutation he cast with Olbric that scared me as much as it heated me up.

Allisande is on the list underneath him. I’ve only ever really conduited for divination with her, but I have a feeling she’d want something else out of me if she won. Who knows what that would entail, but I know one thing for certain - she’d share me with Margeurite. And the thought of contending with both of them makes my cock ache all over again.

The next couple of names on the list surprise me a bit. As far as I know, ever since we got Marvin back from Diran’s cave, he and Fey have had an exclusive casting agreement between the two of them, but Fey’s name is scribbled just below Allisande’s. I wouldn’t even know what to expect from a night with her, but I’m happy to let her compete.

Under that is Cecily, a wizard I’ve only spoken to a couple of times in passing. Not many women could toss me around like a sack of potatoes, but I’ll bet Cecily could. She’s nearly as tall as Arlon, with a build to match. Even if she doesn’t win the tournament, I might have to ask if she wants to cast with me anyway. Color me curious.

Then, at the bottom of the list is the last name I expected to see. Why the fuck would Thaddius enter the tournament? What would he want with a night with me?

Nothing good, is my first thought. But in spite of his stupid pranks, I have a hard time imagining that he’d take it into a casting room. Doing something like that would risk Arlon’s wrath, and no doubt Thaddius has already seen plenty of that recently. Besides... on the off chance he won, maybe we could actually talk instead of continuing with this asinine, one-sided prank war.

Arlon can’t see me bow, so instead, I rest my cheek against his leg until I get his attention. He glances down, his hand coming to rest on my head.

“Is there anyone you want to exclude?”

I hand the list back to him. Thaddius isn’t my first choice to win, and with that list of competitors, I doubt he will, so I don’t see the harm in letting him try.

“No, sir. I’m fine with this list.”

Arlon ruffles my hair as he says, “Good. Garrett, Bridgette, and I will draw randomly for the matches of the first round, then.”

He scribbles something on his desk before he sets his pen down with a quiet click. “Now, even though you aren’t competing, that doesn’t mean you get out of sparring practice.”

I barely stop a groan at that. Should have assumed I wouldn’t get that lucky. “Yes, sir.”

#

PREDICTABLY, I GET my ass kicked. Though all things considered, Alix is pretty nice about it. When he sends me crashing into the mud for the second time in ten minutes, he at least comes and offers me a hand up.

“Well, at least you’re not freezing up anymore,” he says as he pulls me to my feet with a wry grin. “Though whatever that was...”

“I don’t know, either,” I mutter, trying to fling the muck off the borrowed spells that are wrapped around my hands.

For sparring, Arlon pulls lower caliber spells from the Crux’s stores, so I don’t recognize any of them. Part of me thinks I’d be better at this if I was using my own spells, but the part of me that knows better realizes I’m hopeless no matter what I’ve got around my hands.

Arlon comes over to meet us and says, “What are you focusing on while you’re sparring, Dom?”

I groan and try to wipe mud off my cheek, but only succeed at smearing it around. “Frankly, sir? Not dying.”

Arlon snorts a laugh as he looks at me. “Do you think Alix would kill you?”

I flush. “No, sir. It’s just... hard to remember that when a spell’s being shot at me.”

Arlon considers me before he says, “I think you have a hard time trusting that the magic is going to do what you ask it to.”

A glob of cold, wet mud drips down my neck, and I can’t quite suppress a frustrated sigh. “Maybe?”

Arlon hums before he grabs my dirtied hands. His thumbs roll over the muddied spells until he finds an abjuration. “Release this,” he says. “And I want you to put all of your intent and focus behind holding that shield up, alright? Don’t worry about anything else, just keep your focus on that shield.”

I frown as he takes a step back but do as I’m told. The spell flares to life as I release it, and the shield appears like a dome of frosted glass around me.

“Now, Alix,” Arlon says. “Throw a spell at him. Don’t hold back.”

Alix’s honey eyes lock with mine, a grin quirking his lips. “Ready, Dom?”

I let out a shuddering breath as I hold my hands up, focusing everything I have on the barrier. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but it seems like the frost on the glass thickens a little. “Alright, do it.”

Alix releases the spell, and the air seems to warp as it careens towards me. I brace, jaw clenched tight, and as the spell connects, I feel it like a hard shove. It makes me take a staggering step back, but it doesn’t level me like it did before.

“Widen your stance, Dom,” Arlon orders, and I swear as I do as told. Yet another of my many bad sparring habits. “Again, Alix.”

Alix looses another spell at me, and as the fiery evocation connects, I feel my shield crack under the impact. It makes my pulse spike, fear lighting up every nerve.

“You feel your shield getting weaker?” Arlon asks, and I risk a quick nod. “Good. Find another before Alix gets through it. Do it again, Alix.”

I swear and feel through my spells until my fingers find another abjuration. It comes to life under my touch, expanding out just in time to intercept Alix’s next attack. I let out a breath of relief just as Arlon says, “Up the intensity, Alix.”

The man chuckles and does as told, loosing off two hard evocations in quick succession. I feel the impact in my arms, but before my shield breaks, I find another to replace it.

“Good,” Arlon says approvingly. “Keep going, Alix.”

The shorter man circles me like a cat, spells flashing out from his hands in bursts of light and force, but my shield blocks every one. Arlon corrects my stance a couple more times, yet just when I’m feeling ready to try and throw a spell back at him, Arlon stops us for the day.

The following Monday, the weather is so nice that I know what’s in store for me the second the sun rises. After breakfast, Arlon takes us out to the arena that’s started to take shape in the fields beyond the Crux’s walls. The tall grass has been turned over to dirt, creating a large oval. No doubt there will be more to do, but for now, we’re left with a level arena that has far softer footing than the abjuration yard. Footing that I test out thoroughly during a few sparring matches with Galiva.

Arlon starts me out on the defensive, and it takes a lot less time to get to the point where I don’t flinch every time a spell connects with my shield. After that, Arlon sets us into a proper spar where Gal doesn’t go any easier on me than Alix had. Maybe it’s just because I know her tells so well that I feel like I’m better able to keep up. I’m still knocked into the dirt more times than I care to admit, but I manage to get a couple of shots off all the same. For the first time, I’m smiling at the end of it.

The rest of the week passes in a blur of activity as the Crux gets ready for the tournament. Fortunately, the next time I visit the arena, it’s to help Olbric and Farlan the Quartermaster construct some wooden stands for any onlookers to sit on.

My anticipation about this spell starts to build. Rumors about it start to circulate in town, and when Olbric and I go to Mabel’s pie shop for lunch later in the week, she reports that folks seem excited about the whole thing.

“It’s been a long winter,” the plump little woman says as she wraps up our beef and barley pies. “People are looking for good entertainment these days, and I’d wager that a magical tournament is about as entertaining as you can get.”

Olbric gives me a knowing smile as he says, “That’s the hope.”

Finally, the week of the tournament arrives. It’s set to take place Saturday morning, but in light of all of the preparations, Arlon reschedules our usual day together. My Monday with his collar around my neck is bumped back to Friday, yet if I thought he was going to let me take the day off from sparring, I was sorely mistaken.

The crack of spell thunder makes my clenched teeth rattle in my head. I throw my hands up, a habit that just won’t seem to die. My abjuration barrier stops the spell from sending me flying, but godsdamn, it doesn’t do shit to dampen the sound. My ears ring in the aftermath, and I’m not given more than a second to recover before another spell flashes towards me in a bolt of blinking light.

I swear and tumble away, the soft dirt of the arena making that particular evasion maneuver far more comfortable. The spell whizzes past my head in a crackle of static, and I realize my shield can’t take many more hits like that.

Unfortunately, it’s the last one I’ve got. The spell string wrapped around my hand is dotted with darkened, spent focuses. I’m not sure if Olbric’s just toying with me by drawing this out or if Arlon gave him some quiet command to keep me on my toes instead of taking me off of them.

“You’re going to have to go on the offensive, Dom,” Arlon calls, his deep voice booming over the din.

I yelp as a well-timed attack catches me just as I stumble back to my feet and hear Olbric’s rather sinister laugh over the sound of my shield shattering. I barely keep my feet under me as I stagger back from the force of the blast as the focus containing my last shield fizzles out with a quiet pop.

Olbric’s grin is nothing short of predatory as he advances on me. In any other situation, that look would make my cock twitch, but not now. Dread settles heavy in my gut as I prepare myself to meet the dirt again.

“C’mon, Dom!” he crows. “Throw an attack. Let me see what you got!”

I swear and plant my feet as I scan through the string of unfamiliar spells. They’re all lower caliber, but I still can’t shake the thought that I could kill someone with any one of these if I hit them wrong.

“Concentrate, Dom,” Arlon calls from the sidelines. “You shouldn’t have to think about what’s around your hand. Throw the spell with intent.”

Yeah, well, easier said than done, but I settle on one and let it loose. The evocation blast cracks from my outstretched hand to streak towards Olbric, yet the cocky ass doesn’t even block it. Instead, he shifts his weight forward, stance strong as the spell connects. It makes his robes billow out behind him, ripping the tie from his hair, but his feet don’t so much as budge. And as the dust clears, his hazel eyes lock with mine, a smirk spreading across his face.

“Ah, fuck.”

He throws a punch, but the spell he shoots off connects like a wall. Vaguely, I realize it’s the equivalent to what I just tossed at him, except the force of his reacquaints me with the dirt. I fly back, hitting the ground with an “oof” as the air rushes from my lungs.

Olbric appears above me just as I manage to find my breath, only to cough it back up a moment later. “Are you alright?”

“I think you knocked something loose,” I cough.

“Wouldn’t have if you had a better stance,” Olbric chuckles before offering me a hand up. I let him pull me to my feet, my head still spinning. No matter how many times I spar, the aftermath still leaves my nerves frayed, my pulse roaring in my ears.

“You barely let me get my feet under me!” I scowl.

“Excuses, excuses,” Olbric teases, but the kiss he presses against my cheek softens the sting of yet another defeat.

Arlon hurries across the field to join us. “Are you alright?” he asks as he pulls me against his chest. His fingers slide through my hair on the back of my scalp. “You didn’t knock your head, did you?”

I let out a quiet sigh as I sink against his broad chest. “Nah, I’m alright, sir. Nothing’s hurt but my pride.”

Arlon chuckles and ruffles my hair as he lets go of me. “Your stance was terrible.”

“So I’ve been told, sir,” I huff.

Arlon claps me on the shoulder. “In spite of what I know you’re thinking, you are getting better.”

I begrudgingly admit that he’s right. I don’t think firefighting will ever be my strong point, but at least he’s beaten my freeze reflex out of me.

“I doubt I’d enter even if I could, but I’m pretty happy to be spectating tomorrow,” I admit as we head through the arena and towards the Crux.

As we pass, Arlon nods to Farlan. The Quartermaster has been leading the final setup of the arena these past few weeks and has done a fine job of it. An oval of chalk outlines the dirt arena to mark the boundary, and Farlan is directing Thaddius and Adan in hanging some festive flags from the rails of the spectator’s stand. There’s even a small covered box erected for Arlon and I to sit in that’s hung with white curtains to help keep me out of view.

“This is the most people to ever sign up for one of these tournaments, so it should be a hell of a show,” Arlon says.

“No doubt the prize is a good incentive,” Olbric says slyly. “Though it’s a moot point - I’m going to win.”

I chuckle even as Arlon’s hand comes to rest on the back of my head. “Do you feel ready for this? With eight competitors, tomorrow is bound to be a long day.”

I shiver at the thought. A steady thrum of excitement has followed me all week, but it only ramps up as the reality sinks in. This is happening tomorrow.

“I’m ready.”

As we enter the main atrium, Olbric kisses my cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he says before glancing up at Arlon. “I trust that you won’t do anything to hinder my prize from conduiting tomorrow?”

I flush at that. No doubt Olbric’s remembering all of the times I’ve shown up to his room Tuesday morning bowlegged.

Arlon’s grin sends a shiver down my spine. “I’ll be sure he’s more than ready.”

I barely bite back a moan at that. There’s plenty that Arlon can do to me that won’t wear my hole out, and that grin tells me he’s planning on it.

Olbric chuckles and waves before heading towards the evocation tower. Arlon squeezes my shoulder and says, “Go freshen up and grab us lunch. Meet me in my office.”

“Yes, sir.”

I do as told and take a quick trip down to the baths to wash the dirt off of me before I change and head to the mess hall to grab us lunch. I gather two bowls of pottage and a few slices of bread before I head to Arlon’s office. His door is open, but my stomach drops when I realize he’s not alone, the tray clattering as I pull to an abrupt stop.

Captain Thora turns to peg me with an icy look as I freeze at the door. I flush hot red as I remember where I was the last time she showed up unexpectedly. But this time, she’s not alone. Nikolai stands just behind her, and the guard’s eyes flick to the collar around my neck before he raises an eyebrow.

“It’s alright,” Arlon says and waves me in. I close the door behind me as I enter the office. Just going off his tone, he’s already over whatever this newest unexpected visit is about. “Dominai is my assistant today. I’m sure whatever has brought you here today can be shared in front of him.”

I set the tray of food on Arlon’s desk, yet I can’t help but wink as I catch Nik’s eye. The guard’s pale cheeks flush pink before he pulls his eyes away from my collar to look resolutely ahead.

“Of course,” Thora says, though the glare she directs at me makes her look like she’s smelled something she doesn’t like.

With outsiders here, I stand just behind Arlon rather than kneeling. “What can I do for you today, Captain? I trust there has been no other issues with my wizards in town?”

“No, fortunately not,” the Captain says. “It has come to the King’s attention that you plan on holding a magical tournament tomorrow.”

Gods, I knew we’d done a good job of spreading the news in town these past few weeks, but I hadn’t realized it had reached the palace.

“We are,” Arlon says through a frown. “What of it?”

“King Thermilious wishes to attend.”

My stomach drops into my feet as Arlon’s back goes stiff in his chair. It’s one thing to have a little tournament with some spectators from town watching. It’s another thing entirely to have a tournament with fucking royalty in attendance.

“The Royal Guard will handle his Majesty’s security, but we would require a private box, which you are, of course, allowed to share,” Thora says.

Arlon visibly bristles at that. “How very generous.”

The Captain ignores his tone as she continues, “What time do you expect to get underway tomorrow?”

Arlon sighs, and he must realize there’s no getting us out of this. “First round will start at second bell. We will do our best to accommodate the... extra attention the King’s presence will inevitably draw, but we would appreciate the Guard’s help in turning people away if it becomes unmanageable.”

“Of course,” Thora says. “In spite of what you may be thinking, we don’t wish to step on the Crux’s toes. If we had been informed of the event officially instead of leaving it up to rumor, perhaps we could have collaborated on something at the fairgrounds.”

Arlon looks unamused. “This is far from the first tournament we’ve held, Captain. The Crown has never shown interest in past events, and with how strained things are, I assumed an invitation would go unanswered.”

The Captain’s smile is chilly. “Well, after the very public display of magic in the square a few months ago, King Thermilious has a... renewed interest in seeing all that magic is capable of.”

“Of course,” Arlon says, his voice carefully neutral. “Do you expect a number of people to attend with his Majesty? We would like to create appropriate accommodations.”

“You can expect myself as well as a few others of his guard. He will likely have his attendants, but they do not need to be seated near him. And the ambassadors from Kenitka, Immenbach, and Cairish have all expressed an interest in attending.”

Arlon’s thin-lipped smile is forced. “Of course. We welcome such esteemed and... unexpected company.”

“And we look forward to the spectacle. Thank you, Grandmaster,” Thora says as she gives a polite nod. “We will see you tomorrow morning.”

Nikolai meets my eye, and his normally stoic expression has softened into something almost apologetic. He offers a shadow of a grin before he and Thora head out of the office, closing Arlon’s door behind him.

Arlon waits a moment longer, as if expecting them to pop back in before he sinks into his chair with a groan. He rubs his eyes as he mutters, “Good gods.”

With no outsiders present, I sink to kneel beside his chair. “What can I do, sir?” This tournament has already been a logistical nightmare to get set up, and that was with weeks to plan it.

Arlon snorts, raising an eyebrow as he looks down at me. “You can tell me how you’re feeling about conduiting in front of the King and a larger-than-expected crowd,” he says. “You’ll be in the royal box with us.”

I flush hot red at the thought, though some of that heat shoots straight to my groin. “I’m alright with it, sir,” I say carefully. “Definitely glad that Olbric is covering me up, though.”

“The King has misconceptions about how magic is made,” Arlon says. “No doubt you’ll garner some attention, but I’ll field any questions.”

I bite my lip as a shiver of excitement makes its way up my back. The idea of conduiting in front of such an... esteemed audience with them only knowing half of what’s going on makes my head swim in all the best ways.

But nothing gets past Arlon.

He raises an eyebrow as he hooks a finger through my collar, pulling me onto his chair to straddle his lap. His other hand grabs my half-hard cock through my trousers, wringing a gasp out of me.

“What’s this?” he rumbles, his deep voice adopting a playful purr. “Could it be that the innocent young hunter from Airedale is excited about being paraded around in front of King and country?”

I can’t stop a moan as my hands come up to brace against his shoulders. Yup, it’s official. Definitely an exhibitionist. Oh, how my hometown would be ashamed.

“Yes, sir.”

Arlon’s rough fingers tug the hem of my trousers down and coax my cock to full attention. “You are remarkable,” he murmurs as I roll my hips, thrusting shallowly into his grip. “So long as your hole is filled and your cock is hard, you’re happy, isn’t that right?”

I flush hot at that, a quiet moan breaking past my lips. He gently pinches the head of my cock, making my hips buck. “Yes, sir.”

“A perfect fuckboy of a conduit,” Arlon purrs. “You’ll be a beautiful prize for tomorrow.”

Godsdamn, but he’s learned just what to say to make me melt. I let out a quiet sound of pleasure as I bury my face against his neck. My hips rock against his lap, my cock thrusting against his hand. I just feel an orgasm start to build before there’s a knock on his door.

I can’t quite stop a moan of disappointment as he tucks me back into my trousers. “Never a moment’s peace.” He kisses my cheek before pushing me onto my own shaky legs before he calls, “Come in.”

Farlan enters, wiping sweat from his brow. “I think we’ve got the arena all finished if you’d like to come take a look.”

Arlon winces. “About that...”

Final Preparations

One of the most useful skills a conduit can develop is learning how to use their tongue.

Fundamentals of Magic by Eroland Lockhart

––––––––

THE REST OF THE DAY is spent helping Arlon and the Quartermaster make some hasty changes to the arena. While Farlan and I expand the box that had originally been meant for just the two of us, Arlon works on the arena.

He makes a slow circle around the arena, following the chalk barrier. A spell glows in his hand as he transmutes a chest-high wall to keep the inevitable crowd safely out of the way. I keep getting distracted as I sneak glances of him, and it’s not helped when he strips his shirt off in the afternoon heat. He recently turned fifty, but he’s easy to look at with those strong arms and muscled chest.

Once the wall of earth is raised, he grabs another spell from his pocket. He places his hands on top of the earth wall he’s created, face pinched with concentration as the spell releases.

The effect is like watching cards fall. One second, the wall is made of earth, and the next, stone ripples out from under his hands. It creates a long, smooth barrier all the way around the arena.

I gape at the display and nearly get my finger smacked by Farlan’s hammer for my lack of attention. Recently, I’ve gotten more than my fill of seeing magic used in a fight, which is terrifying and awe-inspiring all at once, but there’s something beautiful in seeing it used for such a practical purpose.

After Arlon finishes with the wall, he comes to join us, wiping sweat from his brow. The question is almost out of my mouth before I remember my manners and bow.

Arlon gives a closed-lip grin as he grabs another plank of wood to hand to me. “Yes, Dominai?”

I take it and set it in place to become the last piece of wood of the floor of the box. “How did you do that, sir?”

“Do what?”

I frown as I try to figure out how to phrase the question. “That was all transmutation, right? How did you... direct the magic to do what you wanted?”

Arlon waits until Farlan is done hammering the plank into place before he speaks. “What do I tell you to do when you’re sparring?”

I wrinkle my nose. Truth be told, he yells a lot of things at me when I’m sparring. “Fix my stance?”

Arlon chuckles and says, “Intent, Dom. Magic relies heavily on it. Your intent when you’re creating it, your intent when you’re sparring or building a wall - magic relies heavily on what you want. The magic wants to obey, but you have to give it clear direction. We’re intentional with the casting components we use to ensure a spell will be able to do certain things, but your intent when you release a spell is just as important. That first spell I released could have created a dome of earth, or a pillar, but I needed a wall. That second spell had enough power to turn this whole field to stone, but I didn’t allow it.”

I frown as I mull that over. “Frankly, sir, my attention is split so many directions during a spar I don’t know what I want. Aside from not getting knocked into the dirt again, that is.”

Arlon chuckles and says, “It will click eventually. I think Olbric is the only wizard I’ve ever trained who didn’t flinch the first time I tossed a spell at him. But if there’s one thing I can hammer into you, it’s that your intent is just as important during a spar as it is when you’re doing practical magic.”

Our conversation is cut short as Farlan finishes hammering the last plank into the platform, giving us a nice, raised box. It’s rather bare bones, but hopefully it’ll suit. Arlon straightens with a groan before pulling a focus from his pocket.

“Here,” he says as he hands the magiline ring to me. I take it and can tell it’s conjuration just by the feel of it. “Even conjurations can be versatile depending on your intent. This one is something I made with Garrett to create a tent in a pinch, but I’ll bet that if you concentrate, you can create a covering fit for a royal box.”

I roll the ring between my fingers as Farlan strips off the white sheets from the far end of the box. Both him and Arlon take a step back to give me space, and I let out a breath as I close my eyes.

The last time I went to the palace, I remember seeing the lush red curtains hanging around the windows, the gold inlaid into the marble floor. It had been expensive and opulent, and I hold that picture in my mind as I raise the focus and release the spell. There’s a quiet whoosh, a flap of fabric, and when I open my eyes, I can’t stop a laugh.

Crimson red fabric hangs over the frame of the box, though it’s bunched elegantly at the four corners and tied around the posts with ropes dyed a golden yellow. It even has fringe that dangles down like golden icicles.

Arlon chuckles as he squeezes my shoulder. “Well done.”

#

ARLON MAKES AN ANNOUNCEMENT at dinner to inform the Crux of the royal guests that will be attending the tournament. He stands on the dais at the front of the room, and it seems like he meets every eye as he talks.

“With such an esteemed group of spectators, we can assume that the crowd will be larger than anticipated. No doubt there will be both royal and city officials present, and as such, I expect everyone to follow common decorum and be on your best behavior. This is a very public opportunity that could make or break us in the eyes of the city. I need each and every one of you to be the gracious host and not start anything with the inevitable drunks who throw a snide comment your way.”

Arlon’s expression is hard as he scans the room, though his gaze lingers a little longer on Thaddius and Adan.

“At the very least,” Arlon adds, “those same kinds of people will hopefully think twice about approaching us with hostility after seeing what we can do tomorrow.”

We eat, and even though both Arlon and I are tired and sweaty, he insists we rinse before we sleep. We use the private bath in his room rather than going downstairs. It’s big enough to fit the two of us comfortably, and the hot water starts to lull Arlon to a doze as I bathe him. Soon, he’s got his head rested against the lip of the pool as he snores quietly.

Today must have really worn him out because he doesn’t even stir when the door to his quarters opens a little while later. Garrett chuckles at the sight of us as he sets his bag down at the foot of the bed. Bridgette’s grin is mischievous as she makes her way from the main room and into the washroom with us.

Her hand lands gently on the back of my head before she says, “Why don’t you wake him up nicely?”

I draw in a breath before she pushes me under the water. My hands rest on Arlon’s hips, my eyes shut against the soapy water as I search for his cock. When I find it, I wrap my mouth around his length and feel him stir. My head bobs, and the water lapping against the side of the pool sounds loud to my own ears.

Then Arlon’s hand is on the back of my head, pushing me down further. A few bubbles escape from my nose as I swallow him to the root. His stern grip keeps me there as he rolls his hips up, thrusting deep. My lungs start to burn, throat rippling as I fight off a gag.

Just when I think I’ll have to pull away, Arlon grabs my hair and drags me back to the surface. I gasp for breath, blinking water out of my eyes as I meet his smoldering gaze.

“Bold little fuckboy,” he growls, and his tone sends a shiver down my spine. “Who gave you permission to do that?”

I bite back a whimper as I glance out into the main room at Bridgette. She’s lounging on Arlon’s bed, Garrett’s head resting in her lap, and they both watch us with twin smirks.

Arlon draws my attention back when he crushes his lips against mine, stealing what little breath I managed to regain. I feel light-headed when his grip on my hair tightens and pulls me away. He gives me an appraising look, his deep brown eyes dark with lust.

“I promised Olbric I wouldn’t ruin you for tomorrow,” he says. “But I’m sure that eager mouth of yours can still be put to good use.”

I shiver as he pulls me from the bath by one of the rings on my collar. Dripping wet, he leads me out of the bathroom and pushes me to my knees beside his bed. The water cools against my skin, but even the chill can’t hide the fact that I’m already half hard, my heart thudding with anticipation.

Arlon leaves me there to stew as he rummages for something, but I don’t dare to turn my head to see what. From the bed, Bridgette catches my eye and winks as Garrett lets out a deep rumble of a chuckle.

“Open your mouth,” Arlon orders, his voice suddenly right behind me. I do as told, but it’s not the ring gag I expected. Instead, blunt metal hooks into the corners of my mouth, resting between my back teeth. Arlon tightens the strap behind my head, and it makes it so I can’t close my mouth, lips stretched open.

I groan quietly, but Arlon leaves me kneeling as he joins Bridgette and Garrett on his bed. He gives Garrett a quick kiss before leaning over him to catch Bridgette’s lips.

“How was today?” Arlon asks, leaving me to wait. I keep my head lowered, even as it makes a string of saliva drip from my forced-open mouth.

“Good,” Bridgette says as her fingers stroke through her husband’s short brown hair. “The preparations for spring in the glasshouse are just about done, and Garrett left his shift right when he was supposed to this time. Isn’t that right, love?”

Garrett’s gray cheeks flush a few shades darker even as he leans into her touch. “Yes, Mistress.”

In all the months that he’s been confined to the Crux, his collar has stayed on, though from what I’ve been able to tell, he belongs to both Arlon and Bridgette equally while he’s wearing it.

“And do you want to tell Arlon the good news?” Bridgette asks as her fingers trace his jaw.

Arlon raises an eyebrow. “What news?”

Garrett lets out a contented hum as he kisses Bridgette’s finger. “My guard today let it slip that the King wants to meet with me soon. I think my probationary period might finally be coming to an end.”

“About godsdamned time,” Arlon mutters, but my stomach knots hearing the sadness taint his relief. If Garrett’s no longer confined to the Crux, no doubt he and Bridgette will return to their home in Straetham.

It’s been obvious to everyone how the three of them have leaned on each other over winter. When Bridgette came down with the fever, Arlon and Garrett took turns watching her, making sure she was never alone. There are times where Garrett still gets lost in the memories he can’t fully remember or forget, but Arlon and Bri have been there to pull him back to the present. And when Arlon butts heads with Captain Thora or any number of the Crown’s delegates, Garrett and Bri are there to cool him down and help him work through it reasonably.

I lift my head just enough to catch a glimpse of them through my curtain of bangs. Bridgette reaches out to cup Arlon’s cheek as she says, “We love you, Arlon. This winter has helped me remember all of the many reasons why, but it’s time we get back to our lives in Straetham.”

Arlon lets out a long sigh as he turns to kiss her palm. “I know. In spite of how it came about, I’ve been grateful to have you two here. It’d be selfish to try and get you to stay, but... letting you both go is going to be hard.”

“Gods, we’re not dying,” Bri says with a snort of amusement.

Garrett shifts to drape an arm over Arlon’s waist. “It won’t be like it was before,” he says in his quiet way. “I think we all let our work take priority. After all that’s happened, I’m not willing to do that again. We’ll make a standing arrangement. We won’t become strangers like we did before.”

Arlon’s shoulders sag even as Bridgette presses her lips to his. He sighs into the kiss, his hand stroking through Garrett’s short brown hair. When Bridgette pulls away, he says, “I love you both. Maybe someday I’ll be able to leave with you.”

He sounds tired, and I discreetly lower my head again. When I first overheard that Arlon wanted to retire as Grandmaster, I couldn’t understand it. The fact that he was considering me for his replacement was baffling enough, but I couldn’t understand why he would want to leave the Crux. Yet after seeing everything he’s had to put up with over winter, after hearing him tonight, I think I’m starting to get it. By being married to the Crux, he’s given up having a life and family outside of it.

“In time,” Garrett says.

Arlon lets out a quiet huff of a laugh before I hear Garrett’s sudden gasp. “It sounds as if you’ve been very good today,” the Grandmaster says, his voice adopting that playful purr I know all too well. “And there happens to be a perfectly good mouth kneeling on the floor who would love to give you a reward.”

“Yes, Master. Thank you.”

My hands clench to fists on my thighs as I bite back a whimper. Spit has made a puddle between my kneeling legs, dribbling unchecked down my chin. On the bed, Garrett stirs, and I can’t stop my cock from twitching.

“C’mere, Dom,” Garrett rumbles, and when I look up, I see that he’s moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He grins at me hungrily, tusks jutting up from behind his bottom lip, and as I crawl towards him, he releases his cock from the slit of his trousers. He slides gray foreskin back to uncover the delicate pink head of his cock, and the silver piercing that Bridgette put through it over winter.

It had been for a high power corpimancy, but the piercing itself has been fun to play with outside of casting, too. I draw him into my mouth with a quiet groan, tongue toying with the silver ball that rests under the head of his cock. Not being able to close my lips means I can’t suck him properly, but my tongue makes up for it, lapping at his slightly salty skin. His thick cock hardens under my attentions, making it much easier to tend to. I bob up and down his length, and when my overworked tongue starts to tire, I swallow him, letting my throat do some of the work.

Garrett’s hands fist in the sheets on either side of him as he enjoys my attentions. The gag makes this harder and far noisier than usual, and I drool over his length as I pull back, panting for breath. When I look up, all three of them are watching me.

Arlon leans over and murmurs in Garrett’s ear, “Go on. Fuck his throat like I know you want to.”

Garrett moans, and I brace as his big hand cups the back of my head and pulls me onto him again. I clench my eyes shut, relaxing my throat as best as I can as he uses me. He gags me on his cock, thrusting deep enough to cut off my air with his thick length. Tears stream from my eyes, and it’s a special kind of torment not to be able to suck him to help him along.

He groans, his cock twitching in my mouth. “May I please cum, Master?”

“Not yet,” Arlon says, voice rough with lust.

My tongue laps the underside of his cock even as mine juts up, hard and untouched. I lavish on the attention, using every trick I know. Garrett is almost as big of a masochist as Olbric, so I let my teeth graze his skin as he thrusts deep. Turnabout’s fair play for all the times his split tongue has gotten me in trouble over winter.

Garrett swears as he thrusts deep, sliding down my willing throat. His voice trembles as he says, “Master, please.”

Arlon chuckles. “Cum, Garrett.”

Garrett grabs my head to anchor me as his end rushes out of him. He moans as the taste of him fills my mouth, but I can only swallow so much with the gag holding my mouth open. When Garrett finally releases me, spit and seed dribble from my lips, making me shudder even as I try and fail to lap it up.

Garrett flops back against the bed with a groan. “Fuck me, but the mouth on that one.”

Arlon chuckles and looks to Bridgette. “Since you’re so quick to get him in trouble, would you like a turn with him?”

The woman’s grin is sharp. “And here I thought you’d appreciate your fuckboy’s talented mouth waking you up.” She crawls towards the edge of the bed and pulls her skirts up before beckoning me closer with a finger.

I move forward, and Bridgette grabs my hair as she roughly pulls me between her legs. With the gag tugging at my lips, my tongue is left to do all the work. I lap between her folds, exploring the shape of her before I push my tongue into her. She’s tangy and sweet, and I savor the taste of her almost as much as the sounds she makes. Every moan and gasp makes my achingly hard cock twitch.

Her hand stays firmly on the back of my head, anchoring me in place as she grinds against my face. I start to feel lightheaded as she uses me for her pleasure, though she seems to savor my whimpers as much as my tongue. When she loosens her grip, I draw back, gasping for breath before she pulls me back down to smother me again.

I’ve gotten used to this sort of treatment over winter, but gods know it hasn’t gotten any easier to endure. My cock aches painfully between my legs, and it’s a struggle to keep my hands planted firmly on the ground.

Then, finally, Bridgette shudders with release, a long moan rattling out of her as she grinds my mouth against her slit. When she finally releases me, my tongue aches, my face wet with her juices, but I’m helpless to do anything about it. And I’m still not done.

As Bridgette and Garrett settle back onto the bed, Arlon moves forward to take their place. “Are you ready to finish what you started?” he asks, holding his cock up for me.

I whimper as I move forward once again and wrap my mouth around him. He grabs the back of my head, a low growl escaping him as he thrusts deep.

He’s far less gentle than Garrett was. I gag and clench my eyes closed as he pulls me onto him, fucking my face. I lose myself, submitting to the rough use as I feel his cock thrust down my throat. Every moan is music to my ears, and when his hand tightens on my head to anchor me in place, I open my throat, swallowing around him as I look up at him.

The lust and intensity on his face sends a chill of pleasure down my spine. My throat quivers, lungs burning from the lack of air, but Arlon doesn’t release me. Tears streak down my face as I gag, my eyes meeting his in a silent plea. He grins as he loosens his grip, and I gasp as I pull off of him, sucking in a much-needed breath.

The break is short lived, but I don’t protest when he pulls me back onto him. Even though my throat is sore from the rough use, he’s merciless as he fucks my mouth. It’s a relief when he finally thrusts deep, forcing me to swallow what he gives me.

I’m dirtied and trembling by the time he pulls away, my chest and face wet with a mix of fluids that I couldn’t swallow. No one’s so much as grazed my cock, yet it feels like I’m floating halfway out of my body. I’m brought back into it when Arlon cups my cheek and lifts my head to look at him.

“What a good mouth he is,” he rumbles, and the simple praise sends a thrill through me. I nuzzle against his hand with a whimper as his other one finds my cock. He strokes me as he murmurs praise into my ear. “Such a good fuckboy.”

I arch into his hand, fingers flexing with the urge to grab onto him. Yet in the months I’ve been collared by him, he’s trained me well, and since he hasn’t given me permission, I keep my hands to myself. Heat pools in my groin, the pleasure building, and I can’t help but thrust into his grip as I chase my end.

But Arlon has other plans.

I wail as he pulls his hand away, leaving my cock aching and leaking. For a second, I dare to hope that he’ll keep going, but when he touches me again, it’s to loosen the gag from my mouth. He tilts my chin up, silencing the pleas that threaten to spill out. His smile is full of wicked pleasure as he presses a gentle kiss to my forehead.

“Go clean up and come to bed.”

I bite back a swear, my cock throbbing so hard it’s nearly painful. It takes me a second to find my feet. They’ve been turned to jelly, and I stumble as I head into Arlon’s washroom. I do as I’m told in a haze, using water from the sink to clean myself up.

When I return, Bridgette and Garrett are cuddled on the bed with Arlon, as naked as I am. Arlon pulls me in to join them, trapping me between him and Bridgette at the center of the bed. I groan, the feel of their warm bodies doing nothing to stamp down the ache between my legs.

Arlon’s heavy arms wrap around me, though part of me thinks it’s to ensure I can’t find some way to relieve myself. I sink against him with a helpless whimper as Bridgette twines her legs with mine.

“I’d like to give you an order that will stand outside of our scheduled time,” Arlon murmurs into my ear. The thought of what he’s going to say next fills me with equal parts dread and excitement. His breath brushes my neck, and I squirm as it sends chills down my back. “You are not allowed to cum until the champion of the tournament lets you.”

A moan rattles out of me as I arch against him. “Y-yes, sir.”

Arlon’s chuckle sends shivers over my skin. “Then get some rest. You have a long day ahead of you.”

Trophyboy

The art of creating magic is as much of an emotional undertaking as it is a physical one.

Magic Philosophy by Namina Kimathi

––––––––

WHEN I WAKE UP, I’M so randy I can hardly stand it. My dreams had been full of casting memories, and Galiva’s smirk fades as I open my eyes to see Bridgette’s sleepy grin.

“Someone woke me up,” she murmurs, and as she shifts, I realize my hard cock is pressed between her thighs.

I flush hot as I give an apologetic grin. “Sorry,” I mouth so I don’t wake anyone else up.

Bridgette chuckles softly before scooting to give me enough room to slip out. Behind me, Arlon stirs, but fortunately, he’s a heavy sleeper. He simply rolls onto his back before resuming his quiet snoring.

I throw my clothes on before I slip out of the room, closing the door carefully behind me. It’s too early to wake Olbric, so I head down to the baths instead. The walk makes me all too aware of my half-hard cock uncomfortably trapped in my trousers. The steam of the baths greets me, and I debate giving myself a little relief before I remember Arlon’s order.

I can’t quite bite back a groan as I rub my face. “Godsdamn, it’s gonna be a long day.”

Musical laughter rings across the baths, and I look over to see Cancassi glide through the pool in the back. They rest their arms on the lip of the bath as they call out, “Shape up, trophyboy, I intend to win you today.”

I give a laugh as I strip my shirt off. “You and seven others. So I blame you in part for my long day.”

Cancassi chuckles as I toss my trousers aside and slip into the water with them. “I’m happy to be contributing to your problem. Though I think I have a decent chance of taking the whole pot.”

“Olbric seems hellbent on winning,” I point out before I dunk my head under the water to wet my hair. When I resurface, Cancassi already has a handful of soap ready. “You know how competitive he gets.”

They hum as they guide me so my back is against their chest. I shiver as their long fingers run through my hair, and as distracted as I am this morning, the feel of their small breasts pressed against my back makes my cock jump. “Sure, but I’ve got beginner’s luck on my side. If I can win just one round, I’ll earn my evocation mastery, but I aim to win the grand prize.”

I shiver as their lips brush the back of my neck. From what I’ve seen of Cancassi’s sparring skills, they have a good chance of accomplishing that. They've got a keen knack for strategy, even if their bad leg slows them down. The old injury pains them, but I’ve seen how they keep the damaged muscles limber. A few weeks back, I thought I was finding a nice, quiet place to eat breakfast and watch the sun rise in the glass observatory atop the divination tower. Instead, I'd found Margeurite pressed against Cancassi's back to push them into a deeper stretch. Both of them completely naked.

“Luck to you, brave wizard,” I say gallantly. Truth be told, I’m happy to be won by most of the competitors today, but I’ve secretly got my heart and bet set on Olbric. And he’s going to be a hard one to beat.

Cancassi chuckles before they catch me in a heated kiss. I squirm, my cock swelling all over again. "You better get ready, trophyboy," they murmur against my lips. "You have a hell of a day ahead."

#

I CLEAN MYSELF BOTH inside and out before I leave the baths. I’m too excited to eat, but once the sun's up, I head up to Olbric's room. The lock on his door clicks open as I approach, and I slip quietly inside.

He’s still in bed. His back is to me and his long black hair is a tangled mess where it’s escaped from its tie. I approach and brush a light kiss against his head, doing my best not to startle him. He hasn’t had a nightmare in some time, and I don’t want to do anything to change that.

“Your wakeup call is here.”

He groans in response before pulling his blanket over his head.

“You asked me to wake you early,” I remind him. “You’ve got a tournament to win today, remember?”

Olbric chuckles as he flips the covers down to smile blearily up at me. “And I still need to get my prize ready. You’ll be worth it, though.” He stretches with a yawn, pushing his tangled hair out of his face. “How are you feeling about today?”

“Oh, you mean how am I feeling about that small, inconsequential detail of sharing a box with the king?” I ask with a grin. “Equal parts terrified and randy.” Olbric chuckles before leaning up to catch my lips. I can’t stop a needy little groan as I return it, my cock throbbing. When we part, I add, “Alright, maybe more randy than terrified.”

Olbric cups my cheek. “Are you sure you’re alright with this?”

I sober as I lean into his hand. “I’m alright with it,” I promise. “Just be sure I’m covered up so we don’t offend any royal sensibilities.”

Olbric chuckles as he slumps against his bed in relief. He grabs both sides of my face before dragging me down to kiss me hard, and it makes my cock jump all over again.

“You’re incredible,” he says. “Consider it done.”

#

IN SPITE OF MY SQUIRMING stomach, Olbric makes me eat a light breakfast before we head towards Arlon’s office. The Grandmaster has allowed us to use it as a staging area, and the litter that will be my seat for the day has been stored in the corner. I shiver as I look at the iron frame, seeing the magiline phallus that juts up from the top of the domed seat.

Olbric directs me to stand on the rug as he strips my clothes off, smirking at the sight of my half-hard cock. “So excited already.”

I chuckle and rub my freshly shaved cheek. “Don’t get any ideas of claiming your prize early. Arlon forbade me from cumming until the winner of the tournament lets me.”

Olbric's grin is pure mischief as he wraps his hand around my cock. "Well, it's a good thing I'm going to win you, isn't it? I’ll let you finish... eventually.”

I groan, hands clenching at my sides as I thrust into his grip. "Olbric...”

"Fuck, I'm looking forward to claiming my prize. You're going to be a desperate mess by the time I win you,” Olbric purrs, and I bite back a whimper as he pulls his hand away. “But I can't win you if I don't get you ready first, so stop being so Goddamn distracting."

I chuckle and give myself a shake, though it only does so much to get my arousal under control. Olbric does nothing to help as he starts rubbing a lightly scented oil into my skin.

“The gold didn’t stick very well last time,” Olbric says as he massages my ass with not-so-innocent touches. “I figured this would help.”

He’s not wrong. The oil makes my skin feel radiant and soft, and when he dusts my chest with the gold powder, it clings to me like a second skin. The brush tickles a little as he covers my chest and neck before dusting it lightly over my sides. Even though I knew what to expect this time around, I can’t help but groan as he dusts a light coat over my cock and balls.

Olbric kneels in front of me, and the sight of him makes my pulse roar with anticipation for something that’s not going to happen. Instead, he starts to dust my legs, coating them in gold down to my shins before elegantly fading it out to meld into my natural skin tone at my ankles. He does the same on my arms, fading from gold to skin around my wrists.

Only after he's coated me from neck to ankle in the gold powder does he take a step back to admire his handiwork. He hums as he considers something before brushing a shimmer of gold over my cheeks and through my auburn hair. I can’t help but notice that his little clay pot is nearly empty, and wonder, not for the first time, how much this spell is costing him.

Olbric steps back to admire his handiwork, and his face breaks into a smile. “You look radiant.”

I flush, resisting the urge to rub my neck and smudge all his hard work. Olbric doesn’t have that same fear as his hands stroke down my sides. The oil helps the gold stick well enough that I bet I'll be washing it off for the next few days. I shiver under the touch, nerves already alight.

“What I’ve brought you to wear is too sentimental to be part of the prize, so I’ll have to ask for it back once I win you,” Olbric teases as he trails a gentle line of nips along my jaw.

“If I could get this gold powder back into the pot, you’d get that, too,” I murmur, breath hitching as his lips press against the pulse in my neck. “Gods, I hope this spell works just for the sake of your purse.”

Olbric chuckles and says, “Seeing you dressed up like some sort of sun god is worth every coin."

His hands slide off of me before he goes to his supply bag. And the gold-dyed cloth he pulls free makes my mouth drop open. Silk with gold embroidery in the shape of dancing phoenixes seems to drip over his hands like water. It's too long for a blanket, but too large for a scarf, and I wonder how exactly I’ll be wearing it.

Olbric holds it out to me, and I can't help but touch it. It's cool as air and soft as down under my fingertips, and the gold threads shimmer as they catch the light of Arlon’s office.

"Do you like it?" he asks.

"It's beautiful," I say, but that's an understatement. It's the finest piece of cloth I've ever seen, let alone touched.

"It was a gift from my ama for my sixteenth birthday," he says. "I was going to use it to cover your lower half. Are you alright with your chest being exposed?"

"That should be fine, right?" I say, a little uncertain. "Field hands go without shirts all the time."

Olbric chuckles as he comes up and loops the long fabric around my waist. It could circle me four times and still have a little length leftover, but instead, Olbric ties it to fit, leaving two long ends dangling up front.

"You're going to be more like a statue out of antiquity rather than a field hand," he points out.

He takes one side of the excess fabric and pulls it back between my legs. He folds it cleverly before tucking it into the waist. He does the same with the remaining fabric up front, folding it into a plait before tucking it into the waist. When he's finished, it feels like I'm wearing loose pants - albeit ones with discreet gaps under the many folds of fabric.

"Let's see if we can get you situated with this," he says as he leads me over to my stand. He pushes me up against the wall beside it as his hand finds its way through the folds in the fabric. He manages to pull the cloth aside enough to expose my ass to him before his slick fingers tease at my hole. When he pushes into me, I can’t help but groan, my hardening cock brushing the soft fabric as I start to swell again.

Olbric takes his time stretching me, first with one finger and then a second. I moan and cant my hips back at him, wordlessly pleading for more. But he doesn't give it to me.

He pulls away before he slicks the magiline phallus. "Take a seat," he says with no small hint of wicked pleasure.

I carefully straddle the stand while making sure the loose fabric doesn't get mussed. Olbric helps me by holding the cloth aside to allow me to sit. I kneel on the golden padding before I sink down, feeling the tip of the phallus poke at me.

As soon as the charged magiline touches my skin, it pulses and tingles, making my muscles twitch. It takes some doing to wiggle down the length of it, and I feel every inch of the cool stone as it stretches me. The phallus is rigid and unforgiving, impaling me deep, and the steady charge it gives off makes my hole clench and spasm around it.

I know what to expect from the toy, but the idea of spending the whole morning bound onto it makes my head swim. I’m panting by the time I’m seated, the constant tingling of the magiline doing nothing to help my already desperate state. And fucking hell, the day’s barely even started.

“Are you alright?” Olbric asks as he fixes the folds of my pants, covering me so no one will be the wiser.

I give a breathless laugh. “Really wish Arlon had let me cum last night.”

Olbric chuckles and lays the folds of fabric over my crotch to hide the bulge of my erection surprisingly well. “You’ve survived longer,” he teases even as he screws the iron bar into the stand behind me. He leans me back before locking the attached iron collar around my neck.

I’m forced to keep my chest arched out just slightly, and the angle shifts my hips so the phallus is pressed right against my prostate. I groan as Olbric takes my hands and decorates my fingers with no less than twenty focuses before guiding my wrists to the shackles near the base of the bar. He locks them in place, and I shiver as I feel the focuses spark. Already a promising sign for the success of this spell, I suppose.

Even though nothing’s securing my legs, I’m no less trapped. Olbric had the whole stand made to fit me, and it’s comfortable enough that I’ll be able to sustain the position for a long period of time. I relax into the iron frame with a groan.

“Comfortable?” Olbric purrs, his breath brushing my ear.

I shiver, my hands clenching around my handful of focuses. “Yeah,” I say. And really, it is. The soft pillow cushions my knees, and I can rest my hands on the edge of my domed seat if my wrists start to get tired. The collar keeps me in place, but it also supports my neck.

“Good.” Olbric takes a step back, beaming as he looks me over. “You look like a prize fit for a king.”

I chuckle at that and arch a little as the tingling phallus hits just the right spot. “Or at least fit to share a box with him, I hope.”

Olbric chuckles as he leans down to catch my lips in a kiss. “You look incredible.”

The door to the office clicks open, making both of us jump. Arlon and Bridgette stop mid-conversation as their eyes land on me. Bridgette lets out a low whistle even as Arlon chuckles, his face splitting into a grin. Both of them are dressed to the nines as well, albeit in more... traditional clothes.

Arlon is in robes of deep purple, his salt and pepper hair styled back, beard neatly trimmed. Bridgette wears a dress of spring blue that makes her eyes look like sapphires. They both approach for a better look, and I flush hot red as Bridgette reaches out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear.

“You’ve done an amazing job, Olbric,” Bridgette says as she smiles at me.

“I’d say I’ve outdone myself,” Olbric says smugly. He adds one final touch by tying the keys to the shackles and collar around my neck on a little leather cord. “Think he’ll do?”

Arlon chuckles. “I think you’re going to cast a hell of a spell with him.”

Olbric looks pleased. “Thank you for helping with the logistics of it. I know this was no small undertaking. Especially with our... unexpected guests.”

“You’re welcome, Olbric. This spell will do more good than you realize, and I’ll be sure to field any of the King’s questions,” Arlon assures him. “I’m afraid that if Thermilious learns that you’re creating a spell to turn iron into gold, it will become the only thing the crown ever commissions from us.”

“Guess it’s a good thing we kept this one a secret, then,” Olbric says.

“Indeed,” Arlon chuckles before he walks over to his desk. He unlocks the bottom drawer before he pulls out his spell necklace and drapes the impressive display around his neck. With all that weight, it’s no wonder he doesn’t bother to wear it around the Crux.

“But how about you come here tomorrow morning and we’ll test it in private?” Arlon asks before glancing at me. “Not that I have any doubt of this spell’s success.”

“Deal,” Olbric says. “I’m happy to have one less thing to worry about today. And as much as I hate to leave my prize, I should go get myself ready.” He catches my lips before adding, “I have a tournament to win.”

“Luck to you, brave wizard,” I say. “Don’t get cocky.”

Olbric’s nose brushes mine, and this close, I can see the flurry of emotions that seem to pass behind his eyes. He cups my face before he kisses me again, softer this time. His voice is barely above a whisper as he says, “I love you.”

My heart flutters as my eyes go wide, but before I can respond, he releases me and hurries from the office without another word.

Royal Box

Common decorum dictates that we keep the practice of magic out of sight of non-magical people. However, there may be instances where one must conduit in public for the sake of a spell. In that case, it is important to either get consent from those in attendance or keep the casting as discreet as possible so as not to cause offense.

Fundamentals of Magic by Eroland Lockhart

––––––––

BRIDGETTE STAYS BY my side while Arlon goes to greet the royal procession. I’m left to wait, but I barely notice the time passing. My heart soars, pleasure that has nothing to do with the toy inside of me warming me from the inside out.

Olbric’s words seem to echo in my head. I’ve been at the Crux for a little over a year, and even though I’ve spent most of that time with him, we’ve never uttered those particular words to one another.

Wizards skirt the line between work and pleasure constantly, and sometimes it's hard to untangle all of the emotions that come with casting and conduiting. Friendship, attraction, camaraderie can all get tied up so that love - romantic love - is tricky to pin down. And it can be even trickier to know if the feeling is mutual.

Yet even though I’m bound to the iron stand, I feel light as air, those words making my pulse sing almost as much as the spell. A warm ball of pleasure settles in my chest, and it’s like I've just been waiting for those words to cross Olbric’s lips. And I can’t wait for him to win so I can tell him the same.

I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t even notice four of the non-magical staff coming to collect me. It’s only when they grab the poles at the corners of my stand and lift that I snap back to attention, hands clenching on the back of my seat as the platform I’m on wobbles.

“Fucking hell, this is heavy,” Bran, one of the cooks, swears. The seat under me tilts again, and I bite back a moan as the shifting makes the phallus in me rub just the right way.

“For goodness sake, don’t drop him,” Bridgette says.

I can’t stop a nervous laugh from bubbling free. “Yes, please don’t drop me.”

Behind me, Symon the stable hand chuckles. “Don’t worry, we’ve got you.”

True to their word, they’re careful as they carry me out of Arlon’s office and through the main doors of the Crux. And as we reach the courtyard, the sound hits me. The din of hundreds of people talking, laughing, cheering.

The elation I feel at Olbric’s declaration is replaced by something else as the blood drains from my face. I’m suddenly glad for the support of the iron frame, because it feels like I’m about to faint.

A gentle hand lands on my leg, and I look down to see Bridgette watching me with concern. “Are you alright?”

I toy with the focuses around my fingers, like so many bulky rings. “Reality just set in,” I admit.

She squeezes my calf gently. “Arlon will be by your side the whole day. If at any time you need to stop, you say the word, and he’ll get you out.”

I draw in a breath and let it out slow. It only does so much to calm my rapidly beating heart. "I'll be alright," I say, and it's to assure myself as much as her. "Besides, I'm just the trophy, right?"

“Good boy,” she says. “Remember that trophies don’t talk.”

“Thank the gods,” I mutter. Bridgette chuckles as she leads the way across the drawbridge. The sound of the crowd only swells as I’m carried around the Crux towards the fields beyond. And then I catch sight of the crowd.

Hundreds of people circle the arena. Young and old, rich and poor. Children sit on their parents’ shoulders or push their way towards the front for a better look. Vendors have set up just outside of the crowd, selling food and drinks from wheeled carts and wagons.

An abjuration barrier has been raised to keep anyone from spilling over the barrier that Arlon created yesterday. Even with the advanced notice from Thora, I don’t think any of us thought that the wall would be insubstantial to keep the crowd out. Joke’s on us, there. The King has certainly brought the people’s attention with him.

I feel light-headed all over again, but everyone is too focused on the field to pay attention to the slow procession that carries me towards the royal box. It rests safely inside of its own abjuration barrier and has a number of royal guards surrounding it as an extra precaution. As Bridgette leads us through the shining barrier, Nikolai does a double take, his eyes going wide when he recognizes me.

“What’s all this?” the guard asks, voice choked.

"He's the prize for today's festivities," Bridgette says simply. "He's to sit next to Arlon for the duration of the tournament."

Nikolai's frown only deepens at that declaration, his eyes flicking to the stand with something like concern. Frankly, I’m a little moved that he cares, and I can’t help but wink as I grin at him.

Then a voice from the box says, "It's alright. Let them through.”

Obediently, Nikolai steps aside to let us pass, and I feel the color rush to my face all over again when I realize it was the King himself who spoke. King Thermilious watches with thinly disguised interest as my litter is carried up the stairs. I’m set down next to Arlon, and Bridgette squeezes my shoulder before she heads back down the stairs, winking at Nikolai as she goes.

The Grandmaster leans over to me and murmurs, “You look like you’re about to faint. Are you sure you’re alright?”

I take a deep breath even as a wave of sensation emanates from the phallus inside of me. The nerves and arousal are a heady mix. Even though I know I’m covered, it still feels taboo to be conduiting a spell like this.

“It’s... a little overwhelming,” I admit. “But I think I’ll be alright.”

“You say the word, and I’ll get you out,” Arlon promises before he raises his voice a little. “But until then, no more talking, trophy.”

I smile before I seal my lips and sink against the stand. Arlon’s presence is already helping to put me at ease, but it’s rather short-lived when I glance past him and notice King Thermilious’s ice-blue eyes focused on me curiously. I flush hot red and quickly look away.

“So this is the wizard who is working a spell?” the King asks.

“He is, your Majesty,” Arlon says. “A transmutation, hopefully, but we won’t know for certain until the spell is complete. Though the best thing we can do for the success of it is to ignore him. It’s important that he knows he’s the prize for today and nothing more.”

I shiver and bite my lip, hands clenching under the iron shackles. The King gives a rather mystified chuckle as he shakes his head. “May I ask what your trophy’s name is? I believe I recognize him.”

“You do, your Majesty,” Arlon says. “Master Dominai was by my side when Diran attacked the city square to disrupt Jaret and Lucien’s execution. He was brought in with us for questioning after the fact.”

Behind the King, Captain Thora shifts where she stands, a distinct frown on her face. No doubt she disapproves of Arlon’s careful phrasing, even if it is the truth.

Thermilious hums thoughtfully. “Of course. Though I’m not surprised I didn’t fully recognize him in his... current state.”

And by current state, he means painted gold and halfway to orgasm with a phallus buried six inches in me. Fortunately, he doesn’t know about those last bits. I shudder, my head swimming as the phallus sends another jolt of sensation through me, making my face flush a few degrees hotter. I sure hope crimson and gold are fitting colors for a trophy.

“I have a limited understanding of magic, but you need someone to actually cast the spell with him, correct?”

I don’t recognize the accented voice. Out of the corner of my eye, I see that it was the man on the King’s other side who spoke.

The man is finely dressed, wearing a long maroon tunic over a flowing pair of pants that are hung in a similar fashion to what Olbric did with mine. Gold adorns nearly every finger and hangs in fine threads around his neck. His skin is the color of damp red clay, but his white-toothed smile is sharp.

“That is correct, Ambassador,” Arlon says.

The man hums thoughtfully. “Surely that must create some tension with my countryman, Olammed?”

Hearing Olbric’s abandoned name makes me immediately dislike the man. So, this must be Feisal.

Beside me, Arlon goes still. “I’m not sure I understand, Ambassador.”

“Olammed is... close with your trophy, is he not?” Feisal asks, though the way he scowls on the word ‘close’ makes me turn my head as far as my collar will allow to level a glare at him. How the hell would he know that? I haven’t even really met this man, yet he’s talking about me like he knows me.

Arlon doesn’t answer other than to raise an eyebrow, a silent get to the point if I’ve ever seen one. Feisal doesn’t seem to notice as he meets my glare with a look of such disdain that I can’t help but wonder if I’ll be getting some hate letters after all. Feisal waves a hand as he asks, “Does that not cause... resentment when you cast with him?”

My eyes narrow but I shudder as the phallus sends a thrum of energy through me. I have to bite back a moan as I clench my eyes shut, slumping against the stand as I ride it out.

Arlon just gives a huff of a laugh as he pulls out his pocket watch to check the time. “I’m not casting with Dominai. I’m monitoring him while his caster participates in the tournament.”

Feisal seems displeased by the half answer, as if he were fishing for a hint of jealousy. Fortunately, Olbric has been open with both me and Arlon on that front, making sure to let us know what he needs to feel included and taken care of. Yet the fact that Feisal even knew to mention it rubs me the wrong way.

Arlon stows his watch before saying, “With your permission, your Majesty, I think it’s time to get started.”

Thermilious waves a hand, almost as heavily laden with rings as my own, though his are all gold and jewels instead of magiline. “Of course. This is your spectacle, Grandmaster.”

Arlon gets to his feet and squeezes my shoulder gently as he murmurs into my ear. “Pay him no mind. I’ll only be gone a moment.”

He bows to the King before he descends from the box. I can feel both Feisal and Thermilious’ eyes on me, but I keep my own resolutely ahead, watching Arlon as he heads towards the arena.

“Wizards are a strange ilk, aren’t they?” Feisal says once Arlon is out of earshot. His glare lands on me again as he adds, “How shameless one must be to go so exposed in public.”

“From what I understand, Ambassador, the pursuit of magic takes no small amount of vulnerability,” the King says diplomatically. “Some see that as a weakness, but I think the display you’re about to witness will prove otherwise.”

Feisal’s answer is lost as the chatter of the crowd swells to a cheer when Arlon steps into the center of the arena. He waves to the crowd before he reaches for a spell on his substantial necklace. His magically amplified voice booms out over the crowd.

“Assembled guests, it is my honor to welcome you the Crux! I am Arlon Kalisson, the Grandmaster of the towers, and today, you will witness an honored tradition among the magical community. Eight wizards will compete against one another in single elimination rounds for the title of today’s champion.”

Cheers swell at his words, and I can almost hear his smile as he continues. “We spar for a few reasons; to display our skills, show the mastery of our craft. But more importantly, we do it to keep our skills sharp to better safeguard the kingdom of Straetham and everyone in it. And today, you will see some of the best battle-casters the Crux has to offer.”

Arlon smiles as he looks around at the crowd. “So folks, are you all ready to see a show?”

The crowd erupts with excitement, and beside me, even Thermilious seems amused as he applauds.

“Now,” Arlon says, “Let me introduce you to the arbiter of today’s tournament, Master Garrett!”

I hadn’t noticed him standing near the sideline, but Garrett steps forward to take Arlon’s place in the center of the arena. He’s dressed in his robes, his necklace and masteries all on display. I can tell some recognize him because a few boos rise from the crowd, but the cheering helps to drown them out.

Arlon claps him on the shoulder as he passes before exiting through the gap in the arena wall. He parts the abjuration barrier with a wave of his hand, and it’s a relief when he settles into the chair next to me once more. I can tell he’s excited about this, because his smile doesn’t quite leave his face as he gives me a wink.

Garrett releases a spell of his own to make himself heard over the din of the crowd. “The rules of the tournament are as follows. Each wizard is only allowed to use spells of their own making. The winner of each round will be declared when their opponent is either knocked off their feet or runs out of spells.”

Not that that’ll be an issue. Olbric told me that no one risks competing in Crux tournaments unless they have a good stock. Sometimes, folks will even compete to take some of the weight off from around their necks.

“An abjuration barrier has been erected to block any spell effects from leaving the arena. I will be maintaining the barrier for the duration of the tournament, and any competitors who aim an attack at it will be disqualified immediately,” Garrett says, his voice holding a hint of warning.

I can’t help but think that’s a brilliant move on Arlon’s part. Having Garrett be the one entrusted to keep the crowd safe might be enough to shut those booers up once the fire starts flying.

Garrett throws his arms out and asks, “Are you ready to meet your first competitors?”

The cheers from the crowd make my teeth rattle, and it’s nice to see Garrett enjoying himself at the center of such attention. Even though it happened months ago, the memory of him sick with fear as we walked out of my conjuration to greet the crowd at the execution is still fresh in my mind.

“First up is a wizard some of you might recognize. She is a corpimancer who works part time in the health clinic in town, and she’s just as capable of taking a man down as she is of patching him back up. It’s my pleasure to introduce you to Galiva Qamari!”

I can’t help but chuckle at Garrett’s introduction. Who would have guessed he had a bit of a performer in him?

Galiva comes to join Garrett on the field. Her smile stands out radiant against her dark brown skin, and her black curls have been braided into neat rows down her scalp to keep them out of the way. She’s wearing a leather breastplate and bracers, as well as tall boots over her sturdy breeches. Strings of spells are wrapped around her wrists and palms like elaborate bracelets. She lifts them as she waves to the cheering crowd.

“And competing against her is a wizard of considerable power,” Garrett says. “He’s a master in five different schools of magic, but don’t let his good looks fool you - he’s not afraid of starting or ending a scrap. Meet Thaddius of Immenbach!”

Thaddius comes out onto the field, waving as he flashes a charming smile. Maybe I’m imagining it, but the cheers of the women in the crowd seem to be a little louder for him. He does look a sight, though. His golden blond hair is perfectly coiffed and cut short enough to show off his chiseled jaw and chin. He’s wearing a leather breastplate similar to Galiva’s, but he’s foregone the bracers and has his sleeves rolled up, showing off his forearms and the strings of spells wrapped around them.

Thaddius moves forward to shake Galiva’s hand. He leans towards her ear as he says something, but the words are lost in the din. Whatever it is makes Galiva scowl before she shoots back a retort with a cheeky grin.

Garrett takes a step back. “Wizards at the ready?”

Galiva and Thaddius turn towards the box and bow in respect to the King before they face each other. Garrett retreats to a spot at the edge of the arena, his hand pressed against the abjuration wall. It pulses at his touch, shining like sunlight against glass for a brief moment.

“Begin!”

Thaddius doesn’t waste a second, and Galiva raises a shield just in time to block the blast of flames that erupt from his hands. The cheers of awe from the crowd swell as she retaliates with an evocation of her own, sending shards of ice careening towards Thaddius. They crash against his shield in a cacophony of sound, forcing him back a few steps.

I glance over to see the Cairish ambassador’s eyes go wide as he leans forward, rapt. And he’s not the only one. King Thermilious has a slight smile on his face as he watches, while Thora’s expression is stony. Arlon catches me looking and nods towards the field.

“Pay attention, trophy,” he says. “They’re sparring to win you, after all.”

I shiver at that and turn my attention back to the fight. As I shift on my pedestal, pleasure races up my back, and I have to bite my lip to stop a moan. The pulsing of the magiline phallus isn’t getting easier to ignore, and watching the two of them go at it, the reality really sets in. The winner of the tournament is going to have me for the night.

Out of the first two competitors, my hopes are on Galiva. I don’t suppose trophies are supposed to cheer their support, as much as I’d like to. After earning her illusion mastery over winter, she’s had a whole slew of new ideas. And she made sure to tell them to me during our spar a couple weeks ago.

“You won’t know which way is up by the time I’m through with you,” she had promised, and part of me wants that promise kept. Even now, my cock throbs at the thought, making the focuses around my fingers spark with charge. I take a steadying breath, but the teasing pleasure is making it hard to think straight.

Gasps erupt around me, and I blink to focus on the fight. Thaddius has released a flashy conjuration that wraps around Galiva's legs like living ropes. With a tug, he tries to trip her to the ground, but Galiva’s quick reflexes save her. A fiery evocation burns the ropes away, and she staggers back, making space between them.

But Thaddius is relentless. He doesn't give her a chance to breathe as he continues to drive her back with attack after attack. She's forced on the defensive, burning through shield after shield under the barrage of force Thaddius levels at her. Then, in the blink of an eye, he changes tactics.

A transmutation makes the ground under Galiva's feet roll and erupt. She had been so focused on what was coming at her head-on that the attack from below catches her by surprise. Even from the box, I can hear Galiva's surprised yelp as she loses her footing. The fractured earth sends her toppling, and when she hits the ground, the crowd erupts into a raucous chorus of cheers.

"And match!" Garrett calls. “Thaddius of Immenbach wins and will advance to the next round!”

On the field, Garrett pulls Galiva to her feet and claps her on the back. Fortunately, she doesn’t seem hurt, but Thaddius is too busy preening to even notice. He beams as he waves to the cheering crowd.

It’s a struggle to keep the frown off my face. Definitely not my preferred winner, but I grudgingly admit that Thaddius put on a good show. As the applause fades, a voice from further down in the box catches my attention.

“Thaddius... That’s the Duke of Belingrad’s bastard, isn’t it?”

“It is,” a woman with a crisp Immen accent answers. “I’m sure Roger Barclay would be thrilled to see what his embarrassment has become.”

Hearing the name Barclay makes my stomach lurch. I glance down the row of spectators to see who's talking, but Arlon puts a hand on my knee.

"It's complicated," he murmurs. "And not common knowledge."

Meaning I need to keep it quiet. Though as soon as I'm allowed to talk, I intend to ask some questions. I had no idea that Diran and Thaddius were related.

Cheers swell from the crowd, and I realize I've missed Garrett's announcement for the next match. The torn-up field has been put to rights, and Allisande's fiery red hair draws my eye as she steps into the center. She lets her curls fly loose, though the braids at her temples stop it from getting into her eyes. Fey enters the ring next, looking nervous. Her black hair is pulled back from her tanned face, but she doesn't even smile when the crowd cheers their approval.

"We drew the matches randomly," Arlon says. "But I still feel bad that poor Fey has to face your cousin first, Sire."

Thermilious chuckles at that. "So you wouldn't care to place a wager on this round?"

Arlon lets out a surprised bark of a laugh. "Not on this match, your Majesty. To be frank, I'd be hard pressed to bet against your cousin taking the whole tournament."

"Wizards at the ready!" Garrett calls from the edge of the field. Allisande and Fey both bow to the king before facing each other. "Begin!"

Arlon’s not wrong in his assessment. The fight is over quicker than it took Garrett to introduce the two of them. Fey lets off a feeble abjuration that Allisande doesn’t even bother to block. Instead, she counters with a force blast that cuts through the little burst of flames before knocking Fey flat onto her back.

I can’t stop a wince as laughter erupts from the crowd. Arlon straightens in his chair, looking concerned as Garrett hurries forward. Garrett helps Fey sit up as she coughs, drawing in the breath that Allisande thoroughly knocked out of her.

Allis goes over and offers her a hand up with an apologetic smile. Fey takes it, an embarrassed grin on her face as she allows the other woman to pull her to her feet. Once Allisande gets her up, she raises their joined hands into the air to the crowd’s riotous applause.

“Allisande Maxwell wins and will advance to the next round!”

Cancassi and Cecily are up next, and standing beside the giant of a woman, Cancassi looks tiny. Their long white hair has been done up in elaborate braids and pulled back from their angular face, allowing their long, pointed ears to peek through. Their lithe and willowy limbs make them look fragile, but I know better than to underestimate them. Even so, I can’t help the nerves that settle into my stomach as they bow to the King and face Cecily.

“Begin!” Garrett shouts.

I wince as Cecily’s first attack connects with a crash. Cancassi digs their feet in, their shield shining bright under the brunt of it. A second attack sends fractures skittering across the surface. The third attack, Cancassi dodges.

They leap to the side and roll as the spell punches through what remains of their shield. Their bad leg threatens to fold as they stumble, and they find their feet again just a little too slow as Cecily attacks again. I lean forward as far as the collar will let me, hands clenched on the back of my seat as Cancassi releases a spell.

For a second, I think they’re too late. The spell Cecily released is an evocation with enough force to knock Cancassi flat, but it doesn’t connect. Instead, it goes right through them, and Cancassi, or at least the image of them, smiles before dissolving into a cloud of moths.

Cecily whirls around, searching for her opponent, but inside of the dome of the arena, things go a little wonky. The ground starts to warp and twist, molding itself into fantastical shapes. The crowd gasps as a strange horse-like animal seems to emerge from the mist that’s spread across the field. It starts to munch the grass leisurely, not even seeming to notice what’s happening around it.

“Hell yes, Cass!” I gasp, realizing what the spell must be. It’s the result of them letting me cast with them while they were sleeping. It’s illusion. And as harrowing as that spell had been to cast at times, I have to admit that the effects are impressive. Cancassi has turned the entirety of the arena into a dreamscape.

Beside me, Arlon chuckles. “Trophies are supposed to be impartial.” I flush and snap my mouth closed as I scan the field for Cancassi. They’re nowhere to be seen, though the dreamscape gets more and more fantastical by the second.

Chunks of earth start to peel away from the ground to float in the air like oddly shaped bubbles. Cecily whirls on the field, an abjuration barrier raised warily. But then, from on top of one of the floating chunks, Cancassi flits back into sight just before shooting off an evocation.

It punches through Cecily’s shield, and Cancassi follows a second later, leaping from their vantage point as they release another spell. They plow into the woman with the force of something five times their size, and I realize that it must be the first spell they cast with me all those many months ago, the one that earned them their transmutation mastery. Without the strength of a horse, I doubt even with their momentum they could have taken Cecily down, but as it is, she’s knocked flat.

The cheers erupt from the crowd, and beside me, Arlon looks proud as he applauds. That was a hell of a confirmation fight, and by far the most exciting bout yet. Cancassi stumbles as they get to their feet, though I think their bad leg is shaking more from excitement in the aftermath than pain. They help Cecily back to their feet, and she smiles as she gives them a congratulatory clap on the shoulder.

“Cancassi Elvisaar Aeovin is the winner and will continue to the next round!” Garrett calls, and Cancassi beams as they walk out of the arena with Cecily, a spring in their step. Even if they don’t take the tournament, they’ve more than earned their evocation mastery, and I can’t wait to congratulate them on it.

Garrett calls for a brief break to wait for Cancassi’s spell to wear off. I squirm impatiently on my seat, shuddering as the phallus pulses inside of me, but it takes a few long minutes for the illusion to fade away. When the field finally settles back to normal, Garrett steps back into the center again.

“For the final match of round one, you all are in for a treat. Let me introduce you to another multi-school master. A wizard whose magical lineage stretches back to antiquity. He came to us from the Lenear Isles and is a caster to be reckoned with. It is my pleasure to introduce you to Alixander Laskarsis!”

Alix steps onto the field, dressed in finely made leather armor embossed with gold patterns of vines. His short hair is slicked back, and his copper skin shines under the afternoon sun. Across the field, he seems to meet my eye, making a thrill of delicious fear race up my back at the thought of him winning.

“And facing him is a wizard who also has a reputation. One of the fiercest evokers that has ever come through the doors of the Crux. He’s a wizard who can take a hit almost as hard as he delivers one,” Garrett says. “Meet the premier evoker of the Crux - Olbric of Cairish!”

Down the line of spectators, I hear the Cairish ambassador’s barely suppressed scoff, but Arlon doesn’t let it slide.

“Problem, Ambassador Feisal?” the Grandmaster asks, though he keeps his eyes on the field.

“Instead of using his God-given name, he takes on one of a Strae peasant,” Feisal murmurs. “And he looks like a woman with his hair like that.”

I don’t understand why he says that like it’s an insult. But fuck him - Olbric looks beautiful. He’s wearing simple leather armor, and his long black hair has been braided and coiled at the base of his neck. I can’t help but smile at the sight of him. He looks like he’s ready to win this fight. And to do that, he’s gonna have to bring the fire, because Alix also has the look of someone not aiming to lose.

“Well, that androgynous peasant is about to put on the show of a lifetime,” Arlon says with confidence. “I think you will enjoy this fight, Sire.”

“Wizards at the ready!” Garrett calls and Alix and Olbric bow to the royal box. “Begin!”

Tournament

During a firefight, you will need to make split-second decisions, change tactics in the blink of an eye. There is no room for fear in such an environment. Fear is what will get you killed.

Magical Tactics by Eroland Lockhart

Please note this chapter contains memories of sexual assault.

MY PULSE RACES, MY clenched hands clammy around my spells. I check that my armor breastplate is latched as I walk through the abjuration barrier and into the arena. The crowd seems impossibly large, the sound impossibly loud, as I meet Alix at the center of the field.

The adrenaline before a spar is something I’m used to. It’s what I used to crave - that feeling of danger, the excitement of it all.

But this... sick feeling in my stomach is new. It feels like I’m about to throw up as I square off with Alix. The grin that he gives me is almost predatory, and it makes my knees feel weak.

Even so, I put on a smile, hiding behind a mask of confidence that I don’t feel. Because for the first time in my life, I’m scared of this.

Yet as Garrett calls out the start of the fight, I realize I’m wrong. This isn’t the first time I’ve been scared. That had been in the Hobokins.

The memories overwhelm me all at once, and suddenly, it’s Diran smiling at me like he wants to devour me. I can almost smell earth and pine, and as a spell lights around his hand, I want nothing more than to run.

But he’s too fast. The spell careens towards me, and it’s only years of built-up muscle memory that allows me to get a shield up in time to block. The familiar crash of magic and force jolts me back out of my memories and into the present, and I drag in a breath like I’m surfacing water.

It’s alright. I’m alright.

Alix releases another spell, but this time, I’m present enough to counter it with one of my own. The force of the two spells connecting rocks the earth underneath us, making my ears ring in the cacophony. Dust kicks up, but I blink it out of my eyes as I hurl another rapid attack at Alix.

We trade spells, focuses winking out almost too fast to keep track of. The sound is like rolling thunder as evocation after evocation collides against shields and magic.

Then, in the murky gloom of dust, I see an opening in Alix’s weakened shield. I drop my own and throw two attacks, one after the other, in rapid succession. The first shatters the last of Alix’s defenses before the second collides like a wall.

He’s sent sprawling, skidding through the dirt before coming to a stop.

“And the final winner of round one is Olbric!”

For a moment, I’m too stunned that I won to move, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. Dust and ash cling to the sweat on my skin as I watch Alix sit up, his black hair turned brown by the dirt.

Relief makes my hands tremble when I see that he’s alright. In my fear, I hadn’t held back like I normally would have during a spar. I shake it off as best as I can, plastering on a smile that I’m not sure I feel as I go to help Alix to his feet. His sleeves are singed, his armor thoroughly dirtied, but he chuckles all the same as I offer him a hand up. He takes it before he pulls me into a fierce embrace.

“Well done, Olbric. That was a hell of a fight,” he says. “You earned that win.”

Hearing that helps put me at ease. I may have been scared shitless doing it, but I did it all the same. A bit of pride wells in my chest as I press a grateful kiss to his cheek. “Thanks, Alix.”

He releases me, and as he heads off the ruined field, I turn my gaze to the box where Dom sits. He looks radiant on his stand, and as his eyes meet mine, he arches, biting his lip. The naked desire on his face sends a shiver through me.

I can do this.

To win him, I can do this.

#

MY COCK THROBS, AND for a second, I can’t wait for this fucking tournament to be over so Olbric can claim his prize. His smoldering gaze lingers on me, a smile on his face, and I can’t help but rock against the stand, a quiet moan escaping me. It’s a bit of a disappointment when he turns to follow Alix off of the field.

Garrett looks around at the wreck they made of the arena and says, “We’ll take a brief break to reassemble the field before we move onto the semifinal round!”

The crowd talks excitedly as Garrett and Bridgette start to put the broken earth to rights with a few transmutations. Without the fight to keep me occupied, it gets harder to pay attention. My hole clenches around the pulsing magiline, and when I close my eyes, I can only see Olbric’s intense eyes looking back at me.

The chatter of the people in the box floats in and out of my ears as refreshments are brought in. There’s iced water and tea with fancy tarts of fig and cheese and pistachio cakes dripping with honey. It seems as if the kitchens are taking every chance to impress our royal guests.

I test the shackles, trying to lift myself up enough to thrust down, but Olbric measured this thing well. I can’t so much as budge my ass from where it’s speared to the seat. I whimper quietly as I sink back onto it, so randy I can hardly string a thought together.

“Hey,” a quiet voice hisses. “Hey!” But it’s only when something touches my back that I jolt to attention. I turn as far as the collar will allow to see Nikolai standing behind me just outside of the box. He’s got a concerned frown on his face that makes dimples in his cheeks to match the one in his chin. “Are you alright?”

I doubt my hazy smile does much to stamp out his concern. A hint of color creeps onto his pale face, and for a second, it’s like he can’t look away from me. I wink at him, trying to put him at ease, but Arlon’s deep rumble answers for me.

“He knows how to tell me if he’s not.” There’s a simmer of anger in his voice as he moves to stand in front of me, his eyes narrowed as he glares at the guard. “And you would be wise not to touch him again.”

Nik blanches and pulls his hand away with a curt nod. I want to tell Arlon that it’s alright, but with me so helpless and exposed among so many non-magical folks, that protective instinct of his is out in full.

Arlon crouches in front of me and tilts my chin up so my eyes meet his. “Are you alright?”

I lean into his hand and nod, shivering as the magiline pulses. It makes my rock-hard cock twitch under Olbric’s golden cloth, but the folded fabric disguises the bulge surprisingly well.

Arlon’s thumb strokes my cheek. “Three more matches to go. Do you think you can last that long?”

I try to clear my head enough to check in with myself. My knees ache a little, but it’s not unbearable. The constant teasing of the magiline has been a test of my endurance, but I can only imagine the relief I’ll get once those three fights are finished. I nod again.

“Good,” Arlon says before he tilts a cup to my lips. I drink the chilled water gratefully, letting it cool my dry tongue. “Do you want anything to eat?”

I shake my head no. I’ll eat once I’m freed. For now, my stomach squirms with anticipation, and I can’t imagine taking food from Arlon’s hand in front of the King without catching on fire with embarrassment. And this spell is supposed to be transmutation, not enchantment. Arlon smiles and brushes a stray hair behind my ear before he takes his seat once more.

As Bridgette finishes up in the field, Garrett comes over to us. He doesn’t try to come through the abjuration field protecting the royal box, and I’m not sure the guards would let him anyway. As it is, a couple of them step in his path, but Garrett doesn’t seem bothered as he stops at the base of the box.

“Are you enjoying the spectacle, your Majesty?” he asks.

The King chuckles and leans forward. “Not as much as you are, it seems,” he says, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“It’s been a long winter, Sire,” Garrett admits with a grin. “This has been the most fun I’ve had in months. I’m glad you’re here to share in it.”

“And I am glad to be here. I’m grateful that the Crux could accommodate me on such short notice,” the King says. “It’s good to see you acting like your old self.”

“It’s just as much a relief to feel like my old self, Sire,” Garrett assures him.

Thermilious smiles, and I realize that whatever else Garrett is to the young King, he’s his friend, too. And what an unlikely friendship it is.

“Then I don’t see any need to draw your probation out any longer," the King says, though behind him, Thora’s frown gets a little more pronounced. "So long as you keep that shield raised for the rest of the tournament."

Garrett barks a laugh at that. "Of course, Sire.” He sweeps into a deep bow. "Thank you."

"Carry on, arbiter," the King says.

Garrett bows again, smiling from ear to ear before he goes to meet Bridgette on the other side of the arena. He must tell her, because a second later, she throws her arms around his shoulders, kissing him deeply. The display earns a few cheers from the crowd. Beside me, Arlon's smile looks a little sad as he watches them.

"My guards report that he's been the picture of stability," Thermilious says. "But how is he when he's not putting on an act for them?"

Arlon seems to be weighing what to say. "The enchantment controlling him was easy to get rid of once we found the focus that was sustaining it," he says at last. "But the memories of those five days with Diran will always haunt him. It's taken time, but they don't control him anymore."

Thermilious keeps his eyes on the field where Garrett is trying to show Bridgette out of the arena. "I'm glad."

An unspoken weight settles between them. The King is a hard man to read, but I can’t help but think that he shoulders some of the guilt for what happened to Garrett. Thermilious had barred Arlon from interrogating Lucien and Jaret to get information about Diran’s whereabouts. If the King had allowed it, none of this may have happened. And I don’t think Arlon will ever be able to forget that.

“Assembled guests, are you ready for the semi-finals?” Garrett’s booming voice calls out as he holds up a small bag. The crowd’s response is deafening, but they quiet a little as Garrett reaches into the bag and draws out a small scrap of parchment. “For this semi-final round, Thaddius of Immenbach will face...” He pulls out another piece of paper and grins. “Allisande Maxwell!”

The two of them come into the arena, but it’s a second longer before the thought finishes forming in my addled head. If Thaddius and Allis are up against one another this round, then that means Olbric and Cancassi will be going toe to toe in the next one. I bite back a moan at the thought.

I’ve never been a vain person, but the setup for this spell has made me like the attention. I know that no one in these final rounds is going to do anything less than their best to win me. That thought alone sends a thrill of pleasure straight to my cock.

Allis and Thaddius meet at the center of the field and shake hands before Garrett calls, “Wizards at the ready? Begin!”

I watch the fight through unfocused eyes, barely seeing the flash of spells. I’d been doing okay during the first round, but my attention is shot to hell. I’m too busy imagining what Allis might do with a night with me before a crash from the arena draws my attention.

Thaddius tries that same transmutation trick that won his match against Galiva, but Allisande anticipates it. She conjures a rope that dangles from nothing, and grabs onto it as the ground under her feet breaks apart. Her momentum gets the rope swinging before she lets go of it to throw herself at Thaddius. She slams her fist against his shield, and the evocation she releases shatters his barrier on impact, sending Thaddius reeling back.

Allisande goes for the finishing blow, but Thaddius reacts just a split second faster. I don’t see any visible effect from the spell he releases, but Allisande freezes, her eyes going wide with horror. She takes a staggering step away from him, spells forgotten.

It’s almost lost over the din, but I can still hear Allisande’s gasped, “N-no.”

Thaddius takes another step towards her, his expression grim. Allisande matches him step for step, her eyes wide with fear. Her boot catches the uneven earth, and she goes down, scooting away from Thaddius like he’s the worst thing she’s ever seen.

“And match!” Garrett calls.

Thaddius doesn’t seem to hear him as he takes another step towards Allisande. She throws her hands up, but not before I see the tears spilling down her cheeks. Around the arena, the crowd has gone quiet.

Arlon pushes himself to his feet. “That’s ENOUGH, Thaddius,” he roars, his voice carrying even without magical amplification.

The sound of his anger makes Thaddius jump. The second he breaks eye contact with Allisande, she seems to snap out of whatever spell had a grip on her. Shaking hands wipe the tears from her cheeks as she staggers back to her feet.

Fury quickly replaces her fear as she storms towards Thaddius. He holds his hands up with an apologetic grin, but that doesn't stop Allisande from slapping him hard across the face.

Thaddius’ head snaps to the side before he puts a hand over his cheek. Allisande storms past him without a word, her face nearly as red as her hair. Thaddius rubs his cheek, a little stunned as the crowd gives a smattering of confused applause.

“What just happened?” the King asks, a frown on his face as he watches his cousin leave the arena.

“A dirty trick, Sire,” Arlon growls as he takes his seat. “I can’t say what the exact effects were, but it was enchantment. I’m afraid it may have drawn out something... unpleasant from Allisande’s memories.” Arlon scoffs as he leans back in his chair. “I knew he had crafted spells like that, but I never thought he’d stoop so low as to use them against his fellow wizards for the sake of a bloody tournament.”

On the field, Thaddius looks sheepish as Garrett gives him a stern talking to. The blond nods, though he keeps his head lowered. For a second, I think Garrett might disqualify him, but when he finally looks to the crowd, he says, “Thaddius used a questionable enchantment that is against the spirit of the tournament, but not the rules. As such, he will still advance to the final round.”

I let out a quiet groan and sink back onto my seat. No doubt Thaddius deserved that slap. After all Allis has been through, using an enchantment like that was a low fucking blow, and I hope Thaddius has a hell of an apology ready to deliver to her once this is all over.

Yet the confused murmuring of the crowd stops when Garrett asks, “Are you ready for the last semi-final match?”

Cheers greet him, and I shiver as Olbric and Cancassi take the field.

CANCASSI MEETS ME IN the center of the field, their smile bright. No doubt they’re still riding the high from their last fight, and they damn well should be. It was a hell of a match, and I can’t help but pull them into a brief hug.

“Hell of a confirmation fight, Cass,” I say. “But I’m still gonna kick your ass.”

Cancassi laughs at that and pushes me away as they say, “The cockier they are, the sweeter their defeat, Olbric!”

My grin feels crooked as I square off with them. Little do they know I nearly lost it in the first round. Even now, the jitter of fear has returned as I look at the spells circling Cancassi’s hand.

It’s frustrating to realize. I thought I was over this, but the memories of all that happened outside of the Black Burrows persist. I jump from one foot to the other and try to shake the nerves out of my hands before I clench them into fists.

“Make it a clean fight!” Garrett calls. “Begin!”

Cancassi goes on the defensive immediately, vanishing from sight. I raise a shield around me in response as I scan the field for any disturbance in the dirt.

Because that’s the trick with illusion - you’re invisible so long as you don’t interact with anything beyond you. The crowd seems to hold their breath, and if not for their silence, I never would have heard the quiet intake of breath behind me.

I whirl and shoot off a blast of an evocation that erupts from my fist in a rippling shock wave. It doesn’t connect, but the scuff of dust from the dirt of the arena betrays Cancassi’s position. I shoot off another, and this one hits, and the shield covering them sparks on impact.

If they thought their sneaky-hidey routine was going to work on me, they’ve got another thing coming.

Before their shield even has a chance to dim, I loose off another attack, shattering the barrier like glass. Cancassi stumbles, and I don’t let them get to their feet as I shoot a fiery evocation their way. They disappear behind the cloud of flames, and for a second, I’m afraid I may have gotten them too good.

But my fears were unfounded. Cancassi shoots through the flames, skin shining with the glow of abjuration. They let out a shout as they bring their fist down on my shield. And I was naive to think that the sneaky-hidey routine was the only one in their arsenal.

I throw all of my intent into holding my shield, but there’s just not enough magic to sustain it under the brunt of that attack. It shatters around me with a deafening crack, and for one breathless moment, Cancassi and I are nearly face-to-face.

Cancassi raises a hand to throw another spell, but I abruptly change tactics. I grab their arm, turning to tuck my back against their side before I use their own momentum against them. Their force blast releases, creating a divot in the earth in front of us as I send them flying over my shoulder and onto the ground.

It’s a very mundane end to a magical fight, but no doubt my father would be proud of that little hand-to-hand display. Apparently the crowd also loves it, because their cheers are near deafening. It almost drowns out Garrett’s call. “And match! Olbric will continue on to the final round!”

I beam as I help Cancassi to their feet before catching their lips. “Well fought, Cass. You should be proud.”

Cancassi chuckles. “Likewise. Beat Thaddius into the dirt for me.”

#

"WE'RE GOING TO TAKE a short break before we continue to the final round!" Garrett calls.

"Fucking hell, just get on with it," I moan, and rock my hips against my seat. The magiline phallus rubs my prostate, and a particularly strong pulse makes my cock jump. Under Olbric’s golden cloth, precum leaks from my tip, and I hope to the gods I'm not ruining the fine fabric.

It's not until I see Arlon's amused look that I even realize I'd spoken out loud.

"One more fight to go,” he says. “Can you make it?"

I bite back a whimper and nod. I'm past desperate. My knees ache as much as my hole and cock do, but I can make it. Just one last fight and Olbric will get me the hell off of this thing before fucking me silly. Arlon chuckles and gets up to offer me another sip of water that I gratefully accept.

"This may be a naive question," Thermilious says, jolting me to attention. I'd nearly forgotten where I was. "But once the spells are spent, can you reuse those magiline baubles to store more?"

"We can," Arlon says. "Depending on how well the focuses were made, they can be recharged about ten times before they become too brittle and break.”

“I didn’t realize magic weakened magiline,” the King says.

“On the contrary, the magiline seems to be strengthened by it,” Arlon says. “Freshly quarried magiline is brittle and fibrous, almost like asbestos, but once it’s been touched by magic, it hardens to something stronger than stone. Old focuses usually only break when a spell is being released from it rather than when it’s cast.”

I roll the rings around my own fingers and am glad for that. The idea of a focus popping while you’re using it for a spell is... uncomfortable. Who knows where that thing could be?

“Such a unique material,” the King says with genuine interest. “It’s no wonder wizards covet it.”

“Its value doesn’t lie in coin,” Arlon says carefully. “Magiline doesn’t just store and release magic. Magic is drawn to magiline like it’s a lodestone. The main magiline tower of Crux is charged almost entirely by the ambient energy created by its wizards, though we’ll supplement it from time to time.”

“Remarkable,” the King says as he leans a little closer to peer at Arlon’s necklace. For a second, he looks like the curious nineteen-year-old he is rather than the regent of an entire country.

Arlon seems happy to indulge the curiosity, and he pulls an empty focus from his necklace. It must have been one of the spells he used to finish the arena yesterday. He holds it up so the King can get a better look.

“I assume it’s clean, yes?” the King says. “May I?”

Arlon raises an eyebrow as if to say of course it is before he drops the ring into his hand. “As jealously as I guard our magiline supply, I would not deny your Majesty a closer look.”

The King takes the ring, that curiosity back on his face. He rolls it over between his fingers before smoothing it with his thumb. Arlon glances over the King’s shoulder, and I follow his gaze to where Feisal and I assume the ambassadors from Kenitka and Immenbach have gone to stretch their legs.

Wish I could get up and do the same. I’m reaching the end of my endurance with this spell, and I need them to get on with it already.

“Speaking of magiline, your Majesty,” Arlon says, his voice lowered. “Our sister tower has requested their allotment a little early. Their stores are running low.”

The King hands the ring back to Arlon. “You deliver it every other year, correct?” When Arlon nods, the King hums. “My memory tells me their last shipment was just delivered last summer.”

“That’s correct, your Majesty,” Arlon says. “With the number of adepts Grandmaster Demica reports arriving from Cairish, we may need to reevaluate their yearly allotment.”

The King is quiet for a moment before he sits back in his chair. “I’ll approve the early delivery, but you will need to send someone to complete a census of their magical population. The Treaty of Hastett is clear on that matter.”

“Of course, Sire,” Arlon says. “If their population has reached half of our own, I will ask for volunteers to join us at the Crux.”

The King examines one of his many rings as he says, “I know that the Crux has relied on the royal fleet for transportation in the past, but unfortunately, we are unable to accommodate this time.”

As lost in the spell as I am, I still notice the switch to the royal “we.”

Arlon goes stiff in his chair. “May I ask why, Sire?”

Thermilious raises an eyebrow, and there’s no sign of the curious teenager anymore. “Even though we are willing to allow Garrett back to his normal duties, he has made us aware of the liability that comes with dealing with wizards. Now that Lucien and Jaret have been freed, we are afraid that the potential risk to the fleet is too great. The Crux will have to make its own accommodations for transport.”

If I wasn’t sitting so close, I never would have noticed Arlon’s hand tighten on the arm of his chair before he reins his frustration in.

“Of course, your Majesty,” he says stiffly. “Wizards are nothing if not resourceful. We will find an alternative solution.”

A cool silence descends, but it’s cut short when Garrett returns to the field. The crowd goes wild, impatient as I am for the final round. The sound of their cheers and applause make goosebumps shiver over my skin. I roll my hips, groaning quietly as my cock jumps. Godsdamn, but I hope this is a quick fight.

“Assembled guests, welcome to the final round!” Garrett says. “Please welcome back to the arena, Thaddius of Immenbach and Olbric of Cairish!”

WITH EVERY FIGHT, THE crowd has gotten drunker and louder, and the sound of their cheers rattle in my ear. It sends a rush of adrenaline through me as I head onto the field to meet Thaddius.

Of all the people I expected to be in the final round with, Thaddius was not one of them. Last time we went toe to toe was years ago. With my reputation, Arlon had recommended that he choose someone else to spar for his confirmation fight, but he’d insisted. I’d knocked him into the dirt then, and I’ll do it again now.

And after that stunt he pulled with Allisande, I’m going to enjoy it.

Thaddius meets me in the center of the arena with a smirk before he offers me a hand. I take it, but his crushing grip tells me he hasn’t forgotten what it was like to lose to me.

“Good luck, Olbric,” he says before he releases my hand and takes a step back.

“Wizards at the ready!” Garrett calls.

I scowl as I sink into a wide stance, fists held at the ready. In the break, I’d refreshed my spells. The empty ones were replaced, and I included a few of my highest caliber ones to be safe. Thaddius has shown that he’s learned some tricks, and I prefer to be overprepared as opposed to being knocked down.

“BEGIN!”

Thaddius starts in hot, but it’s an old trick by now. I’ve watched every fight from the sidelines, and it doesn’t seem like he’s inclined to change his opening move. As the ground jerks abruptly under my feet, I dart back and return his attack with a fiery evocation.

It comes so hot and fast that Thaddius’ shirt catches before he can fully raise his shield to block. His forearms redden from the heat, but I don’t hesitate as I go fully offensive.

I forgo a shield as I hurl attack after attack at him, bogging him down until one spell finally punches through. Yet as the dust clears, he’s not grounded. In fact, he’s nowhere to be seen.

Instantly, I get a shield up even as I reach into my pocket with my off hand. I grab the few iron coins I stowed there that haven’t fallen out as I find the focus that holds the last of mine and Dom’s attempt at transmuting gold.

I close my hand around the coins, feeling them dissolve into dust before I hurl my handful in a wide arc around me. It’s a risk. I don’t know if it’ll work, but as the dust settles, it lands on Thaddius’ invisible figure like golden snow, forming a perfect outline.

Another evocation looses from my palm, and this time, Thaddius yelps as it grazes a little too close. And when the glittery outline of the man bolts, I feel like a nameru closing in for the kill.

I find one of my force blasts and hold it at the ready as Thaddius goes on full defensive. He must use another casting of his opening evocation, but it takes an entirely different shape as it makes a jagged pyramid of earth around him.

My blast would be strong enough to kill him under the rubble. Instead, I find the spell Alix cast with me over winter. Remembering how his knife slid up my thigh, just shallow enough to cut, sends a shiver of pleasure through me as I release the spell we made.

It cuts through the earth barrier, shaving off one side of the pyramid as easy as shaving hair. It exposes Thaddius, yet as he lowers his hands from over his head, his eyes lock with mine, flashing like light against a mirror.

I wince, but my blink is stopped by something beyond my control. The spell jerks my body to a halt as Thaddius walks from the remains of his crumbling barrier. He smirks as he says, “Kneel, Olbric.”

The compulsion takes over, and my muscles go lax. I’m on my knees before I can even comprehend the sudden change. It’s like I’m suddenly punch-drunk, not in control. Like I’ve been drugged all over again.

Even as I fight against it, the spell seems to grip even tighter. It’s a challenge to raise my head and glare my hatred at Thaddius, because in that moment, I do hate him.

Panic wraps around my lungs and squeezes as Thaddius plants a foot against my chest.

“Ex-premier evoker of the Crux,” he says before he shoves me flat.

#

THE CHEERS ARE LOUD enough to rumble the platform underneath me, but I barely hear them over the ringing in my own ears.

Olbric lost.

Champion

With enchantment methods such as this, you still have agency even while you are in a trance. Though you are allowing your caster to direct your experience, know that you can break out of a trance at any time.

Advanced Casting Principles: Enchantment by Felix Kessler

Please note that this is an intense chapter that has elements of consensual non-consent, rough sex, verbal degradation, mentions of rape and sexual assault, and a breach of trust while in a trance.

––––––––

THINGS HAPPEN IN A blur. My litter is picked up and taken back to Arlon’s office, but I barely register the trip. Between the endurance game that has been this spell and the shock of Olbric’s defeat, I’m having a hard time stringing a thought together. It’s only when Bridgette puts a hand on my shoulder that I realize I’m trembling.

“You’re alright,” she says gently. “Thaddius is being congratulated by the King, and then he’ll come let you out.”

She tilts a cup against my lips, and the cold shock of water makes my teeth ache. It helps clear my head some, and I draw in a steady breath before I manage to muster, “Olbric?”

“He’s fine,” Bridgette promises. “I think he’s-”

The door to Arlon’s office opens, and she doesn’t have to finish her thought. Olbric sweeps in, coated in dust and sweat. He kneels in front of me, a sad sort of smile on his face as he cups my cheek. I strain against the iron shackles, nearly choking myself with the need to get closer to him.

A soft kiss brushes my forehead as he gently unclenches my hands from around the focuses. The rings slide off, and when he lifts them up so I can see, every last one of them glows brightly with charge.

“You’re incredible, Dom,” he says before pressing his lips to mine in a chaste kiss. I can’t stop a whimper of desperation as I return it and try to deepen it. I ache for him, but he pulls away far too soon.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice hoarse. “I... just wasn’t good enough.”

I try to gather my thoughts enough to protest, but the door to Arlon’s office opens again. The Grandmaster sweeps in with Garrett and Thaddius in tow. The blond’s forearms have been bandaged, but he wears a wide smile as he looks at Olbric.

"Hope you're not trying to steal my prize away," he says. Olbric meets his grin with a silent glare, and Thaddius tsks. "Don't be a sore loser, Olbric. You get to have him the rest of the time." He spares Arlon a quick glance and adds, "Well. Almost."

Olbric's grin is closer to a grimace. "Shame that the winner won't be able to actually satisfy Dom after all the hard work he did today," he says. "But I'm sure you'll try your best."

Thaddius rolls his eyes. "Har har, very funny. I'll be sure to send him back to you bowlegged."

"Enough," Arlon cuts in. "Thaddius, hurry up and unlock the poor boy."

Thaddius grins as he comes to kneel in front of me. He grabs the keys from around my neck before he unlocks the collar and then my wrists. I moan as I lean forward, bracing my tingling hands on the front of my domed seat. I try to push myself up, but I'm shaking too hard to manage it.

Thaddius helps, his strong hands grabbing me under one arm before he carefully lifts me up. I gasp as the phallus slides out of me, pins and needles shooting through my legs after so long kneeling. Thaddius’ grip keeps me from collapsing, and I can’t help but lean against him, grateful for the support. After half a day of being stuffed full, my hole gapes and twitches at the loss, my cock hard as a rock.

The heat of Thaddius’ body against mine makes me moan, and his rumble of a laugh sends shivers through every nerve in my body. A hand cups my chin, but it’s Arlon’s concerned face that floats into focus.

"Dom, are you alright?” he asks. “The spell is finished, but you can still stop if you need to.”

It takes me a second to clear my thoughts enough to answer. Transmutation always has a way of stealing my voice from me, but I shake it off as best as I can. For a second, I consider it, but it just... doesn't seem fair. Even if the spell is cast, Thaddius still won, and denying him of his hard-earned prize seems to betray the spirit of the day. He's far from my first choice, but I wasn’t lying when I said I had no problem conduiting for him.

And after what I overheard in the box, I have a whole new desire to get him alone.

"I'm alright," I promise. "Fair's fair. I belong to the winner of the tournament for the night."

Even as I say it, it feels strange. In the back of my mind, I always knew there was the possibility that Olbric would lose, but I never actually expected it to happen. And judging by the way Olbric’s staring resolutely at the floor, neither did he.

“So, my prize,” Thaddius says as he slides his arm around my waist. “What do you need? I’m sure today hasn’t been easy.”

I snort a laugh at that, but my eyes never leave Olbric. “An orgasm, lunch, and a nap, in that order.”

“Then let’s start checking that list off,” Thaddius chuckles. He goes to lead me out of the office, but I pull out of his grip. I carefully untie the gold cloth from around my waist, sliding the silken fabric through my fingers as my unsteady legs carry me over to Olbric.

I drape the gold cloth around his neck as I kiss his cheek. “I love you, too,” I murmur. “You’ll always be my champion.”

Olbric finally looks up from the floor, his shoulders relaxing as he smiles at me. His hand reaches up to cup my cheek, and I cover it with my own, squeezing gently before I let him go.

Arlon hands me my clothes as he says, “Good job today, Dom.”

I flush at the praise, and even though we haven’t tested the spell yet, there’s not a doubt in my mind that Olbric and I did it. “Thank you, sir.”

Instead of getting dressed, I hold my bundle of clothes at arm’s length, careful not to rub off too much gold powder. No need to make extra work for the staff trying to get rid of all that mess. Thaddius must see my dilemma, because he takes my bundle of clothes with a chuckle before his free hand wraps around my waist to lead me from Arlon’s office.

I’m too randy to even care that, aside from the gold powder, I’m naked as the day I was born as Thaddius leads me down the hall. When we reach the main atrium, I can’t stop a groan. It’s packed in the aftermath of the tournament, and the last thing I want right now is more crowds. Yet at the sight of us, a cheer raises up.

Congratulations are handed over to Thaddius for an impressive performance, and though he beams and offers a quick thanks, he pushes us through the crowd all the same.

I’m grateful for it. My legs are still shaking, and I’m all too aware of my half-hard cock aching between them. We make our way up the abjuration tower, and it’s a relief when the din of the crowd starts to fade. When we finally reach his room, he opens his door for me.

It's bigger than my own, outfitted with a bed that could comfortably fit two. A small pile of clothes tossed carelessly in one corner, and empty cups left on a small table that’s surrounded by three chairs. The surface is cluttered with little clay tiles that look like an abandoned game of Draughts, and beyond that, his window shows a view of the snow-capped mountains in the distance.

Thaddius follows me in, and the quiet click of the door sends a thrill of anticipation through me. I've only cast with Thaddius a couple of times, and it's never been just the two of us. I don't really know what to expect from him, and after what I overheard in the box, I don't really feel like I know him at all.

When I turn to face him, he’s got a slight frown on his face as he looks me over. Like he’s searching for something and failing to find it. Yet when he catches my gaze, an easy grin spreads across his face as he takes a step towards me.

It brings us chest to chest, making my back bump against the stone wall. He’s about as tall as me, but his broad, muscled shoulders and arms make me feel small in comparison.

"Now what was that first thing on your list again?” he asks, feigning ignorance.

I smirk. “Definitely a nap."

Thaddius chuckles before he grabs my wrist. He spins me suddenly, pressing my chest against the wall as he pins my arm behind my back. I gasp as he kicks my legs apart, his weight settling against me. Arousal flashes hot through me, making me moan as I feel his cock hardening underneath his trousers.

“You sure that was it?” he asks, his breath tickling my ear. “What do you really want, Dom?”

I may be a quivering mess of a conduit, but I have a question that’s even more pressing than my own desperation. After what I overheard, I want to get answers straight from the horse’s mouth.

“To know if you’re really a Barclay.”

There’s a moment of breathless surprise. Then Thaddius tightens his grip on my captured arm, pulling it until my shoulder joint locks. I can’t stop a shout, the jolt of pain cutting through my fog of need.

It dawns on me a little too late that now might not be a great time to bring up the topic. Not when I can barely keep my legs under me. But in all my wildest imaginings, I never thought Thaddius would hurt me - Barclay or not.

“Who told you that?” Thaddius asks, voice hard as stone.

“S-someone mentioned it in the royal box!”

Thaddius wrestles control of my other arm, overpowering me easily as he pins it to the small of my back. "I'm no more a Barclay than you are a virgin," he growls, anger simmering underneath a purr of lust. “Bastards don’t get to claim a bloodline.”

His weight lifts off me for just a second before his hard cock presses against my back, freed from his trousers. He grinds against me as he growls, “What’s it matter to you, huh?” When I don’t immediately answer, he leans forward, his lips brushing my ear. “Is it because you want me to fuck you like a Barclay?”

My legs shake as he nudges them open a little further. The blunt head of his cock prods at me. Fear sings alongside the arousal thrumming through my body.

“W-wait.”

He doesn’t let go of me, but he loosens his grip just a little. His breath is hot against my neck as he waits for my answer. His sudden intensity scares me, but I can’t deny that the rough treatment has lit my overwrought nerves on fire, my cock hard and aching between my legs. The fact that he did as I asked means that I still have control where it counts. I can still stop.

“What do you really want, Dom?” he asks again, his voice pitched low.

My nerves sing with the combination of fear and anticipation. I can’t stop a quiet whimper. It’s hard to get my thoughts straight through such a heady combination. Then I hear myself say, “I want you to fuck me like a Barclay.”

The sound he makes is too cold to be a laugh. “You’re disgusting,” he growls. I hear him spit into his hand, feel him slick my hole. The blunt tip of his cock pokes at me, his iron grip holding my wrists tight.

I brace myself as he enters me with one hard thrust, a shout escaping me at the rough stretch. But fuck if it doesn’t hit just the way I need it to. He adjusts his grip, holding both my wrists pinned to the small of my back with one of his own.

I’ve taken Thaddius before, but not like this. With only his spit for lube, his cock feels huge, hard and unforgiving inside of me. I cry out when he thrusts again, the stretch making tears spring to my eyes.

Pain and pleasure war with one another as he sets a hard pace, only pulling himself out an inch or so before ramming deep again. My body shudders with each punishing thrust, my hard cock jumping every time he slams against my prostate.

“You like that, don’t you, fuckboy?” he growls. “You like it when I fuck you raw.”

I arch against the wall, not sure if I’m trying to push back against him or away from him. My chest and cheek scrape the stone as he thrusts again. “Yes!”

“No wonder you’ve become the favorite hole in the Crux,” he sneers. “Wanton little whore. You’ll do anything, won’t you?”

It feels like a reward when he grips my hard cock, tugging it down to hang between my spread legs. I buck into his grip with a shout of pleasure as he starts to stroke me. Another hard thrust pushes me back up against the wall, stealing my breath away. I’m not left with enough air to form an answer.

It’s the roughest I’ve ever been taken. A hard, violent fuck that makes my head spin as the pleasure and pain collide inside of me. Thaddius releases my hands only to grab the back of my neck. He keeps my face and shoulders pinned against the stone, though with my hands free, I can at least brace against the wall under his attack.

He thrusts deep, his pace quickening as I bite my lip. Tears leak from my eyes as I take it, but I can’t stop a shout of gratitude as he starts to roughly pump my cock. With each stroke, the pleasure and pain builds, reaching a breaking point.

“You gonna cum for me, fuckboy?” he growls. “Let me hear you.”

Behind me, Thaddius tenses before impaling me deep, groaning as he cums. I shout as he fills me, his seed hot inside of my sore hole. His stroking hand doesn’t relent, and his hips give one last jerk that tips me over the edge. I can’t stop a sob of gratitude as my end tears through me. My vision swims, hips bucking as I paint the wall in front of me.

For a second, neither of us move. Thaddius’ breath is hot against the back of my neck, and I whimper as he pulls out of me. I’m raw and shaking, and as soon as Thaddius lifts his weight off of me, my knees fold. I slide to the floor, shuddering as I feel his seed leak out from between my spread legs.

Thaddius huffs a laugh. “Fucking filthy,” he says before his strong arms pull me up. I let him lead me over to his bed, and I sink onto it, falling onto my front.

I’m still reeling, but when Thaddius’ hand gently touches my back, I shiver. After all that, the gentle touch surprises me. His fingers stroke down my skin for a few long minutes as I gather myself. I finally stir, shifting to lay so I can look up at him.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

I take a second to check in with myself. My hole aches in a way I’ll feel for days to come, but the desperate need that’s plagued me through the tournament is gone. Yet it’s replaced by something I can’t put a name to. Judging by the look on Thaddius’ face, he feels it too.

“Are you?” I ask.

Thaddius gives a rueful laugh. “You surprised the hell out of me, Dom. Outside of Arlon, only Ambra and Iona know, and I don't think I need to tell you how hard it is to keep a godsdamned secret in the Crux.”

I rest my hand on my head. He's definitely right about that. You'd think the walls were made of paper with how fast rumor travels.

“I shouldn’t have brought it up like that,” I say. “I-I should have known it would be a sensitive subject.”

Thaddius snorts and says, “That’s the thing. Before all this bullshit with Diran, it was a non-issue.” He grabs the blanket from the corner of his unmade bed and pulls it up to cover me.

I’m grateful for it. It’s going to be covered in gold, but I don’t care. I pull it around my shoulders tightly, wearing it like armor.

“What do you mean?”

Thaddius sighs, and he seems to weigh the benefits of telling me. “I’m Roger Barclay’s get on one of his chambermaids,” he says at last, no small hint of bitterness coloring his tone. “But my ma was lucky to be from a merchant family that was just important enough to save us from getting tossed out flat. Honor dictated that I be raised in his household in Belingrad, so I grew up a servant. First in the kitchens, then in the stables, and always out of sight.”

He runs a hand through his blond hair and lays down beside me. “The Duke only deigned to speak to me twice in the eighteen years I lived there. First when I was thirteen, when he handed me a focus to see if I had magic in my blood, and again at eighteen, when he kicked me out and told me to make something of myself at the Crux. I may know where my magic came from, but Roger Barclay never claimed me as anything more than an embarrassment. I'm non-bloodline, same as you.”

“You and Diran are what - cousins by blood?” I ask.

Thaddius nods, his eyes focused on the ceiling. “His father is Duke Godfrey of Iola in Immenbach. Both him and Roger are brother to Luther Barclay, the current regent.” I knew Diran was close to the crown of Immenbach, but I didn’t realize he was their king’s godsdamned nephew. “When I joined the Crux, I wasn't lying when I told Arlon I was non-bloodline. It was only after we got Iona and the others back from the cave that I felt like I had to tell someone. So... I told Iona first."

He covers his eyes with one hand, a frown on his face. "She was horrified, and I can't say I blame her. Coming home after five months in hell just to learn that your lover is related to the man who raped you? I thought it was going to be the end of our relationship. Never thought she'd be able to look at me the same way again. But Iona is too good for this world, and instead, she made me promise to tell Arlon and Ambra."

He sighs as he rubs his eyes. "I told them the next day. Arlon questioned me under enchantment to be sure I had nothing to do with any of the disappearances. He thought it had to be more than luck for Diran to have run across five of our wizards when they were on outward assignments. He had to be sure that some misplaced blood loyalty hadn't turned me into Diran's informant."

"Fucking hell, Thaddius," I say, eyes wide. "I had no idea."

"And a good thing, too," he says. "It was hard enough convincing my lovers to stay with me in the fallout. I sure as hell didn't need the rest of the Crux treating me like a traitor." He finally lifts his hand from his face and turns to look at me, blue eyes narrowed. "Are you going to tell them?"

I blink at him in surprise, and it’s only then I realize what the feeling is that’s settled in my gut. It’s shame. Shame for springing this on him, shame for letting it happen, and worse, shame for liking it.

In the year I’ve been at the Crux, I’ve conduited for plenty of spells that have humiliated and embarrassed me, but I’ve never felt like this in the aftermath. I can't help but think Thaddius meant some of the things he called me, and what's worse is I can't even disagree with him.

“Of course I won’t.”

Thaddius lets out a long breath as he relaxes back onto his bed. He rubs his eyes before letting his hand drop. “Thank you.”

We’re quiet for a long moment before he offers me a small, uncertain smile. “Let me check the next thing off your list and go fetch you lunch, yeah? I won’t be offended if you get started on your nap, too.”

I return the smile and burrow a little further into his blanket. “Thanks.”

He gets up, and the door makes a quiet click as it closes behind him. I sigh and curl up on the unfamiliar bed, burying my face in the blankets as I start to drop. Guilt and shame burn through me, but I draw in a deep breath and let it out slow to try and calm myself down. It’s not the most intense drop I’ve experienced, but even once the worst has passed, I’m still left with a nagging feeling of unease.

I chalk it up to an intense spell on top of the shock of Olbric’s unexpected defeat. To say that today hasn’t gone the way I expected is a vast understatement. I think I’ve pushed myself a little too far. Should have listened to Arlon and stopped, or at least taken a break before going with Thaddius.

Even as uneasy as I am, I must doze, because the next thing I know, Thaddius’ door opens again. He comes in bearing a tray of food, and it looks like he’s piled up half of the offerings of the mess hall, not to mention whatever leftovers there were from the tournament.

Thaddius kicks the door closed behind him and gives a crooked grin. “I wasn’t sure what trophies eat.”

I can’t help but chuckle at that, my mood lifting a little. The awkwardness between us seems to dissipate some.

“At this point, anything. Though after smelling them all day, I’m dying to try those fig tarts.”

He sets the tray on the bed next to me before pulling over one of the chairs from around his game table. I sit up, careful not to spill anything. A stab of pain shoots through me, and I wince as I dangle my legs off the edge of his bed. It fades to a throb a second later, but it doesn't slip past Thaddius.

"You sure you're alright?"

"I think you might have made good on your promise to send me back to Olbric bowlegged," I admit sheepishly. "But I'm alright. Just sore."

Thaddius grabs a tart from the tray and takes a bite. "Well, good," he says smugly. "Ruining his lover is the least I can do after he burned the hell out of my arms."

"I'm insulted if you think a rough fuck is going to ruin me," I say before I take a bite of tart. The sweet fig and savory goat's cheese melt in my mouth, and I can't stop a quiet groan of approval.

Thaddius snorts a laugh. "Night's not over yet, my prize."

I flush hot at that before I swallow my bite. We fall quiet as we eat.

"How'd you do it?" I ask at last.

"Do what?"

"Make the spell you used against Olbric. It was enchantment, right?"

Thaddius nods as he grabs a handful of raisins. "It was. You ever tried spell stacking?"

I shake my head. I've heard Arlon mention it, but I'm not sure what it means. It's definitely not come up in any of my studies, either.

"What is it?"

Thaddius finishes his bite before grabbing a focus from his necklace. "This is an enchantment I made with Ambra," he says as he hands the marble to me. "A spell that makes the target more agreeable. It's subtle enough that unless you're familiar with magic, you won't even notice the effects of it, save for the fact you might be saying yes a lot more than you normally would. So, say I release that spell on you. Put you in an agreeable disposition. Then I use you to cast a command spell while you're in that state. I could order you around all night, and you would be happy to do it with that spell on you.”

He grabs another tart from the tray as he continues. “So by stacking one spell on top of the other, you get a final product that's far stronger and far harder to break." He gives a huff of a laugh. "I could have commanded Olbric to burn the shit out of his own arms if I'd wanted to, and I don't think his will would have been strong enough to break through. He's lucky I just ordered him to his knees."

I can’t stop a shiver of unease as I mull that over a mouthful of pistachio and honey. "If you’re under the effects of an enchantment like that while conduiting, how do you stop?”

Thaddius shrugs. “You can’t unless you can fight through the spell.”

I cough to clear my throat before looking at him in shock. He says it so blithely, like it’s no big deal. “That seems... risky.”

I remember back to the one spell Cancassi let me cast with them while they were asleep. They hadn't been able to stop during it either, and I’d been so conflicted that the guilt of casting it damn near paralyzed me.

Thaddius shrugs again. “A lot of what we do for magic is risky. So long as you negotiate beforehand what’s on and off the table and your conduit knows what they’re in for, what’s the issue?”

“I mean... nothing, I guess,” I say uncertainly.

“Besides, even if it is a little bit of a higher risk, the spells you get out of it are more than worth it,” Thaddius says. “They won me the tournament, after all.”

I frown as I lick a bit of honey that’s dripped down my thumb. “Did you cast something like that on Allis, too?”

Thaddius winces at that. “No. That was a spell I did with Iona that kinda backfired. Ended up dredging up some bad memories for her.”

I have a feeling I might regret asking, but I do anyway. “What was it?”

“It was an enchantment we got out of hypnosis,” he says through a sigh. “Iona and I thought it might be easier to work through some of the stuff that happened in the cave when she was in a trance, and, ah... it was not. Turns out Diran had fucked around with hypnotism as well and left her with some triggers that we’re still finding out about.”

I frown at that. “Triggers?”

Thaddius’ grin comes out crooked. “When you have someone in a trance, you can sort of... condition them to react a certain way to a specific word or touch. Diran saddled her with a few triggers that he reinforced with some kind of fucked up enchantment, but the worst was one that made it so any time someone grabbed the back of her neck, she’d go completely limp. Like a kitten being scruffed.”

I stare at him in shock. “Bullshit."

Thaddius clicks his teeth. "Wish it was.”

"It would happen even when she wasn’t hypnotized?”

"Sure did," he says. "Diran did some spell stacking to make sure Iona couldn’t snap out of it, but he spent weeks reinforcing different triggers. I think we've finally gotten rid of them, but it sort of feels like I’m waiting to be proven wrong. My cousin,” he spits the word like an insult, “is a real shitheel.”

“You’re not wrong,” I mutter.

Thaddius sighs and shakes his head. “I’ll need to find Allis and apologize,” he says. “That was a shitty spell to use on her.”

“Not wrong there, either,” I say.

Thaddius pours some water from the decanter he brought up with our lunch. “You ever try hypnosis?” he asks, steering the conversation elsewhere.

I'm glad for the change of subject - the more I learn about what went on in the cave, the angrier I get. The fact that our divinings haven't gotten us any closer to finding Diran or his mercenary Isa is just one more frustration on top of everything else.

I take the offered cup. “Nope. And I’m not gonna lie, you’re not exactly selling me on it.”

Thaddius chuckles as he pours himself a glass as well. “It’s a great casting method so long as you’re not a piece of shit when doing it. With words alone, you can talk someone to an orgasm, convince them they’re trapped in something as immovable as the silver. Turn them into a hungry little fucktoy with no other thoughts in their head but want for your cock.”

My cheeks flush hot. “Well, when you put it like that...”

Thaddius grins as he takes a sip of water. “You want to try it?”

“And what exactly are you going to do?” I ask. “Make me think my door is stuck closed every morning?”

Thaddius chuckles and raises his hands. “C’mon Dom, that was just a little bit of fun.”

“Fun, huh? Fun for who, exactly?” I ask.

Thaddius’ grin turns sly. “For you, right? Or are you going sit there and tell me that you don’t eat up whatever punishments Arlon doles out to you? Sure as hell has to be better than latrine duty.”

I flush even hotter at that, not wanting to admit that he’s right. Even when they’re not the fun kind of punishment, there’s no denying that I enjoy them all the same.

“I promise I won’t do any screwy conditioning,” Thaddius says as he holds up a placating hand. “Unless maybe you want me to make you orgasm every time I snap my fingers. Ambra can tell you how it feels to go from zero to cumming just by me snapping by her ear.”

My face, impossibly, gets hotter. “You’re seriously telling me you could make me cum without touching me?”

Thaddius smirks, a hint of challenge on his face. “I'm sure I can.”

I take another long drink of water as I think it over. I’m calling bullshit. Unless he’s using some sort of enchantment, there’s no way he can do all he says just by talking at me.

“Alright, Thaddius,” I say, meeting his challenging smirk with one of my own. “Try me.”

Thaddius’ grin widens. “Just to be clear, you want me to hypnotize you and make you orgasm without touching you, right?"

"Right. But no screwy conditioning business."

"No screwy conditioning business,” Thaddius agrees, chuckling. “I'll save any post-hypnotic triggers for another day. I think I have an idea of what makes you tick, so are you alright with me playing with some submission and helplessness while you’re hypnotized?"

In spite of my doubt, a thrill of arousal shoots through me. With my growing reputation as premier exhibitionist of the Crux, I guess my proclivities aren’t much of a secret.

“I’m fine with that,” I say. "What do you need me to do?"

Thaddius scoops the near-empty tray off his bed and sets it on his desk. "Just lie down and close your eyes. Get comfortable."

"Your bed is going to be painted gold by tomorrow," I mutter but do as asked. I lay back onto his pillow, keeping my blanket half wrapped around me. I settle in before I close my eyes.

"Comfortable?" Thaddius asks.

"Yeah."

"Good. Now," he says, "all you have to do is listen and obey."

The first thing I notice is how his voice changes. He tone pitches to something soft and sultry. His Immen accent is nice to listen to, and I can’t help an errant shiver from rushing over my skin.

“Take a deep breath. Feel how it fills your lungs, expands your chest. Let it out nice and slow, and with it, feel some of the tension in your body. Take another deep breath, draw it all the way in, down to your belly, and let it out again.

“Feel yourself relax into the bed. Start at your feet. Let every toe relax. Move up to your ankles and calves and feel all of the muscles loosen. You had a long day, so you deserve this break. Unclench the muscles in your thighs and ass and just sink into the bed. Take another deep breath and focus on your stomach, your chest, letting all the tension bleed out of you. Your shoulders must be so stiff after today, so take a breath and let them relax as you breathe in...and out. Your arms feel heavy, your fingers limp. Let all the little muscles in your face, around your mouth and eyes, go slack. Focus on how nice it feels just to let all that tension go.”

I do as he instructs and have to admit that it does feel kind of nice. He’s right - today was a long day, and it’s a relief to let my body relax. I breathe deep, and it’s almost like what I do on my own when I go into the silver. Maybe it’s just due to the day I had leading up to this, but it almost feels like I’m starting to doze.

“Good,” Thaddius says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “I’m going to count down from ten. With every number, you’re going to fall deeper into that feeling. Are you ready?”

I’d gotten so lost in the sound of his voice that it takes me a second to muster an answer. “Yeah.”

“Ten,” he says, his voice suddenly very close.

“Nine.”

My limbs feel heavy, but I don’t have much of an urge to move them anyway.

“Eight.”

I let out a long breath, feeling comfortable and warm.

“Seven. Six. Five. Four.”

With every number, I sink a little deeper into the sound of his voice, breathing in time with his count.

“Three.”

I feel like I’m on the cusp of falling asleep, my thoughts slowing to a crawl.

“Two.” Thaddius sounds like he’s smiling.

“One, and you drop.” His tone changes, voice dropping to an authoritative pitch as he snaps by my ear.

I let out a breath as something in me seems to lurch, like I’m physically falling, even though I can still feel the bed firmly underneath me. It’s a short drop, and once it’s over, it feels like I’m floating, my usually noisy thoughts replaced by Thaddius’ voice.

“That’s a good boy,” he says, and I flush with pleasure at the praise. “You love giving up control to other people, don’t you Dom? Nothing gets you hotter than submitting to the whims of someone else, isn’t that right?”

Arousal shoots hot through me, so abruptly that it makes me groan. My tongue feels heavy as I muster an answer. “Yes,” I breathe, but my own voice sounds like it’s coming from far away.

Thaddius, on the other hand, sounds like he’s speaking inside of my very head. “That’s a good boy. But you know, you can wiggle out of ropes, you can disobey orders. The difference with hypnotism is that you’re already under my control. There’s no fighting it. You can try and lift yourself up, but I’ll pull you back” snap “down” snap “deeper.” SNAP.

His words drag me deeper into the comfortable haze. It’s hard to think, hard to even want to. I just listen.

“Now that I’ve grabbed control of your mind and body, we’re going to play a game,” Thaddius says, and it’s like his voice is echoing in my head, forcing out everything but him. “The rules of the game are easy. I’m going to give you orders and you’re not going to have any choice but to obey them. I’m going to state a fact, that fact will become your reality. Understand?”

I shiver. “Yes.”

“Good boy,” Thaddius purrs. “By the end of the game, if you play it well, I’ll give you that orgasm I promised. How would you like that?”

There’s already a steady thrum of arousal coursing through me, and I can’t stop a moan. “Please.”

“Good,” Thaddius says. There’s a quiet hiss of what sounds like a spell being released, but before I can be alarmed by it, a new wave of calm washes through me. “But before we start the game, I’m going to ask you a couple of questions that you’re going to forget I ever asked. Since you found out something about me that you shouldn’t have, I think that’s only fair, don’t you?”

It’s hard to remember what he’s talking about. Hard to think of anything but his voice. “That’s fair.”

Thaddius’ hand is gentle as it strokes through my hair before he asks, “Has Arlon asked you to apprentice him for Grandmaster?”

Something tugs at me, a warning, but I can’t for the life of me figure out why. “No.”

Thaddius hums at that as he twists a lock of my hair between his fingers. “Do you think he’s going to?”

The warning tug gets stronger, but under the calm command of his voice, it’s easy to ignore. “Yes,” I say with certainty, as much as I wish he wouldn’t. I don’t want to think about Arlon right now. Not when Thaddius is talking to me so nicely.

“What makes you think that?” Thaddius asks, and there’s a flatness to his voice that was absent before. The warning is like a bell, ringing somewhere in the depths of my hazy mind. I frown, fighting against the haze, but Thaddius snaps by my ear. “Just sink deeper. Everything is alright. Deeper still. Just answer the question, Dom. Why do you think Arlon is going to apprentice you?”

I groan as I fall back into it, so deep I can barely move. “I overheard him talking to Bridgette,” I hear myself saying. “He says I have it in me.”

“Do you believe him?”

I can’t stop a small, bitter laugh. “No.”

Thaddius hums at that before his hand starts to stroke my hair again. I shiver under his touch. “Good boy, Dom,” he murmurs. “Now, what are you going to do with all of those questions I just asked?”

I let out a long breath. “Forget.”

“Good,” Thaddius says. “Forget.”

SNAP.

I feel myself falling deeper, confusion clouding my head as I try to figure out what’s happening. Thaddius reminds me with an order. “Put your hands flat on the bed. You won’t be able to move them until I give you permission.”

That’s right, we were playing a game. I feel myself moving, but it’s a detached sort of sensation, like my limbs are doing it of their own accord. My hands slide off my chest and come to rest on the bed next to me. As soon as I do that, it’s like they’re locked in place, like I’m being held by something stronger than ropes.

“See? I don’t even need ropes to control you when you’re like this,” Thaddius says. “You love being a helpless little fuckboy, don’t you? Answer me.”

“Yes!” I gasp and arch against the bed, but my hands stay firmly where Thaddius put them.

“Good boy,” Thaddius purrs. “You feel that? That steady thrum of arousal creeping through you? You’re such an eager little fuckboy, so this next part will be easy. Every time I say the word ‘hotter,’ you’re going to feel your arousal get stronger. It’s going to layer on every time I say it, making you hotter,” snap, “and hotter.” SNAP.

I arch as the thrill of arousal shoots through me, like fire coursing straight to my cock. It swells to rest against my stomach, untouched and throbbing. My hands clench to fists in his covers, but even so, I can’t move them to stroke myself like I so desperately want to.

“Oh, now that would be cruel of me, wouldn’t it?” Thaddius purrs. “I could just keep making you hotter and hotter. I could make you mindless with it, erase every other thought from your head but the need to finish. Let’s just see how desperate you can get.”

I cry out and arch against the bed, hips thrusting as my hard cock bobs, red and untouched. “P-please.”

“No speaking,” Thaddius orders, and my lips slam closed. I whimper, trembling and helpless as I hang onto his every word.

“For someone who was so skeptical, you sure were an easy one to put under, Dom,” he says. “And now that you are, you’re so receptive. You’re an easy one to toy with.” I shiver, but Thaddius doesn’t give me a chance to recover. “Let’s make you burn a little hotter.”

The arousal is near unbearable. I feel like I’m burning up from the inside out, my sore hole clenching even as my cock starts to weep. Desperate sounds make it out from behind my closed lips as I writhe.

“Hmm, I dunno,” Thaddius says, “I think you could stand to be even hotter.”

I can’t stop a cry of need, my hips thrusting to meet the air. It only brings attention to how hard I am, how randy I am. I sink back against the bed with a whimper, my pleas of need trapped behind my lips.

“Aww, poor boy,” Thaddius murmurs. “You must be getting pretty desperate.”

Since my voice has been stolen away, I can only nod. Thaddius leans close enough that I can feel his breath against my ear. “Do you want to cum, Dominai?”

I nod with a whimper, my mind blank to anything else but the arousal coursing through me.

“Then let’s make you hotter, and hotter, and hotter.” I wail behind closed lips, my back arching off the bed, my cock jumping with every repetition. Thaddius chuckles and says, “Cum, Dominai.”

I shout as my orgasm rocks through me. My whole body tenses as I arch, shooting my seed up onto my stomach and chest. The pleasure is overwhelming, wiping every last thought from my head. It seems to last forever, and aftershocks continue to rock through me long after my cock has emptied. When it finally abates, I slump back onto Thaddius’ bed, panting.

“Good boy,” Thaddius murmurs, his own voice layered with pleasure. “You are allowed to move your hands and speak again. I’m going to snap my fingers one more time, but this time, it’s going to wake you up. Are you ready?”

Words seem like too much effort, so I just nod. Thaddius chuckles before he says, “And you... are... awake.” SNAP.

For a second, it feels like I’m falling again, except this time I jerk awake. I gasp like I’m surfacing water, my eyes flying open. “What the fuck.” I look down at my own soiled chest before looking at Thaddius. “What the fuck.”

Thaddius gives a small grin, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped in front of him as he watches me from his chair. “Told you. It’s intense, isn’t it?”

I can’t stop an amazed laugh as I run a hand through my hair. “It’s unbelievable,” I say faintly. Even now, I’m still having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that he was able to make me cum through words alone. “How did you learn to do that?”

“Read a lot of books,” Thaddius says with a shrug. “Ambra also mentored me when I first started. She’s a hell of a hypnotist.”

I look down at the mess of gold powder and cum on my chest. “I think I need to change my plans and go to the baths before I take a nap.”

Thaddius offers me a hand up. “Anything, my prize.”

Beating the Odds

No matter how much we exercise caution, there is always a risk of injury while making magic.

Fundamentals of Magic by Eroland Lockhart

––––––––

THADDIUS IS QUIET IN the baths, no matter how hard I try to talk to him. The silence that stretches between us is an awkward one, and I’m not sure what I can do to break it. Once we’re clean, and I’m as free as I can be of the gold powder, we head back to his room.

As soon as we reach his door, I say, “I’m not going to tell anyone, you know. I promised.”

Thaddius blinks and turns to look at me, as if just remembering that I’m following him. His thoughts seem a million miles away. “No, I know you won’t,” he says through a sigh. “Thank you. Seriously.”

I hate that I’m the cause of his sudden subdued mood. Even now I still feel guilty for bringing up his lineage like I did, but I wonder if I can’t snap him out of it. I put on my most flirtatious grin and say, “Is there anything else I can do for you tonight, champion?”

Thaddius gives a rueful grin as he rubs his face. “Honestly? I’m pretty tired,” he admits. “After today, you’ve got to be too. You never really did get your nap.”

I shrug as I step a bit closer to him. “You checked the rest of the things off of my list. Is there anything else I can check off of yours?”

Thaddius chuckles at that. He grabs my face gently, tapping my cheek in something like a caress. “You’ve done enough. Why don’t you go get some rest."

My smile falters a little. “You’re sure?” It seems like an abrupt end to an already strange kind of evening.

He lets his bandaged arms drop. “I’m sure. I just need a good night’s sleep. But if you want any more information on hypnosis, come find me. I’ll be happy to give you some reading.”

“Thanks,” I say, and realize I’m being dismissed. I hover by his door, a little uncertain. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Thaddius’ smile is a little sad, and I’m not sure why. “I’m fine,” he promises. “Are you?”

“I’m fine,” I say, though I’m still not so certain. This whole thing started on a strange note, and it’s definitely ending on one, too.

“Can I check on you tomorrow?” he asks.

"Of course.”

"I know I wasn’t your winner of choice, but thanks for being a good sport tonight.” He opens his door as he says, “Sleep well, Dom.”

The door closes behind him, and I let out a long breath, a little unsure what to do now. It’s really not too late, and I’m not ready to head back to my room yet. I didn’t expect to spend tonight alone, and feeling as off as I do, I don’t really relish the idea.

Thaddius is on the second floor of the abjuration tower, so I loop down the stairs before heading towards the evocation tower. The festivities of today seem to have calmed down a little, though there are still a few people drinking and laughing in the tower alcoves.

I head up to the second floor and find Olbric's door closed. He’s not asleep though - a soft glow shines from under the crack of his door. The lock on it clicks open as I reach for the handle, but I knock before I enter.

Olbric is sitting up on his bed, wearing nothing but his round spectacles and his underthings. His body is a mess of bruises after today, his russet skin turned black and blue on his forearms and knees. A book is in his lap, but he snaps it closed at the sight of me.

"Dom? What happened? What's wrong?"

I close the door behind me. Olbric tries to get up to meet me, but he’s moving so tender that I stop him before he can struggle to his feet. Instead, I catch his lips as I push him back onto the bed, kneeling over him to deepen the kiss. He relaxes underneath me as his hand glides up my neck to tangle in my hair.

Today has been hard and weird, but with him, things tilt a little towards normal again. This is the only thing that I wanted out of today. Being here with him feels right when everything after the tournament felt so... off.

We break apart for a breath, and I strip my shirt off before we find each other's lips again. It's like we’re both starving, and the only thing that can slake the hunger is each other.

Olbric's fingers are at the laces of my trousers, and I help him slide them down before doing the same to his underthings. The feel of his bare skin against mine makes me shiver, warming me from the inside out. I'm gentle as I straddle his waist, settling my weight on his lap.

I keep my lips on his, breathing in his gasp as I grab his length. I know I can't take him like I want to, not being as sore as I am. Instead, I slide my length against his before wrapping my hand around us both. Olbric moans at the delicious friction, his hands landing on my hips to keep me there.

We take our time. The slide of his heated skin against my own makes pleasure sing through my veins. I grab the little bottle of lube from his bedside table and pour it over us, savoring the leisurely drag and thrust. Olbric’s needy little sounds are like music, his fingers digging gently into my hips as he moves under me.

A slow sort of heat builds between us, soft and intimate. As often as we cast, I savor these moments. No spells involved, no pressure to create something. Just the simple, shared pleasure of being with each other.

The heat grows to consume us both, and Olbric arches underneath me. Even battered and bruised he's beautiful, and he rolls his hips as his orgasm overtakes him. He moans against my lips, and I swallow the sound as I follow him into bliss.

We're both panting, sticky with sweat and cum in the aftermath of our lovemaking, but neither of us seem inclined to move. Olbric wraps his arms around me, and I sink into his embrace even as I return it. I bury my face against his neck, enjoying the feel of his fingers as they stroke through my hair.

"What happened?" Olbric asks again, his voice rough. "Do I need to have round two with Thaddius? I’m not about to lose to him again."

I can't help a small laugh at that. "No, it’s fine. It was just... a weird night. He cut me loose early."

"Ungrateful bastard," Olbric mutters. “He played so dirty to win the fucking tournament, and he didn’t even bother to spoil his prize for the rest of the Goddamned night.”

The shock of his defeat has definitely cooled to anger. It simmers in his voice.

“I’m alright with it,” I say as I lean up to kiss his cheek. “Means I got to come here instead. Like I wanted to in the first place.”

Olbric glances at me, a fragile smile on his face, and I realize that maybe the shock isn’t quite as gone as I thought. “I’m so sorry, Dom. I thought I had it in the bag, but if Thaddius was able to beat me,” he swallows and puts a hand to his forehead as he closes his eyes, “maybe I’ve lost my touch.”

I pull his hand away and kiss each one of his fingers, seeing the cuts and burns he earned today. One thing I’ve learned in my sparring lessons is that no matter how careful you are, firefighting isn’t kind on your hands.

“Want to know what I saw today?” I wait until Olbric opens his eyes to look at me before I continue. “I saw a wizard in his prime doing what he does best. You were a force of nature, Olbric.”

Olbric sighs, and there’s a darkness behind his pretty hazel eyes as he looks up at the ceiling. “And Thaddius still beat me.”

“You said yourself that he played dirty,” I point out.

Olbric shakes his head. “It’s not just that. It was luck that got me through the first round. When Alix started coming at me, I-I wanted to run. It wasn’t skill or finesse that won that fight. It was a lucky shot. Then in the fight with Thaddius... it was like I was being overpowered outside of the Black Burrows all over again.” He lets out a long sigh, his expression hard. “Being in a fight isn’t new for me, but... being scared during one is. And I was terrified today.”

I trail my fingers down his chest as I say, "But you fought through the fear, and after what you went through outside of the cave, that's not nothing. Scared or no, you were incredible today. I was honored to have you fight for me."

Olbric’s arms drape around me, and we fall into a silence as we enjoy the simple pleasure of each other's touch. I only break the quiet to say, “I love you.”

He reaches down to cup my cheek, and it makes me feel warm to see the shadows fade from behind his eyes. “I love you, too,” he says before he pulls me into a soft kiss.

I can’t help a giddy chuckle as I return it, pouring all my love and gratitude back to him. His arms tighten around me as his kiss steals my breath away. I feel light-headed, drunk on his very presence as I lose myself in the feel of his lips against mine.

We're both breathless and panting by the time we part, but apparently he’s nowhere near finished. Olbric's lips find my neck as his hand glides over my ass. Yet as soon as his fingers find the pucker of my hole, I gasp as pain shoots from the spot.

"What's wrong?" Olbric asks.

"Just sore," I admit sheepishly.

Olbric tsks and mutters something about Thaddius’ poor casting habits before he pulls his hands away. A quiet gasp of shock escapes him as he abruptly sits up, pushing me with him. I'm just about to ask what's wrong when Olbric shows me the tips of his fingers, coated in bright red blood.

#

I HADN’T NOTICED IT when I was helping Galiva pack up supplies in the infirmary, but there’s a focus that’s been set directly into the wood door. And as soon as Olbric opens it, the focus starts to flash like a slow heartbeat. Olbric ushers me in before he touches one of the little orbs on the wall to light the small room up. He helps me onto one of the beds even as I try to shrug him off.

"I'm fine," I insist for the hundredth time, but Olbric's not having it. It took some doing for him to even get me down here, and I'm not at all pleased about it. My face burns hot with embarrassment.

"You are bleeding," Olbric says.

It's not a moment later that the infirmary door opens again, allowing Arlon and Garrett inside. Well, now I know who that focus is tuned to alert. I flush even hotter and lay on my front. It lets me hide my face against the pillow, but if I'm being honest, it helps my aching backside too.

"What's wrong?" Arlon asks, concern coloring his voice.

It's not the second that it leaves his mouth that Galiva opens the door, panting and out of breath. She holds up the flashing focus on her necklace and says, "I got an alarm. What's going on?"

I lift my head to gape at the small congregation of people before burying my burning face back against the pillow. "It's nothing!" I shout into the down. I just want to disappear. Or want them to disappear. Anything to not be in this situation.

Someone rests a hand on my back. "Well, you're well enough to be embarrassed. I get the feeling this is not a dire enough injury to warrant all three corpimancers of the Crux," Garrett's deep voice rumbles into my ear. "Who do you want to stay?"

I've never been more grateful for Garrett’s polite professionalism. I don't want to admit that I did something so stupid as get myself hurt while fucking, but if I have my druthers... "Galiva.”

Garrett squeezes my shoulder. "Then we'll leave her to it. We'll check on you tomorrow."

I nod silently and am grateful to hear the door close as they leave. Galiva comes to sit beside me as Olbric takes a seat on the neighboring bed.

"Alright, what'd you do?" Galiva asks in her no-nonsense way.

I mumble it into the pillow, but she grabs my hair and pulls my head up. "Didn't quite get that." The teasing smirk on her face says she knows whatever it is must be more embarrassing than dire. And it seems like she's going to make me say it anyway.

"I think I tore something, alright?"

Galiva hums and lets go of my hair before smoothing it down. "You know, with how hard you go at it I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. With who?”

“Thaddius,” I mutter. On the bed next to me, Olbric’s expression darkens with anger, but he stays quiet.

Galiva’s hand is cool and gentle as she rubs my neck. “I know you’re embarrassed, but I’ve got to see before I can do anything about it.”

My face burns hot as I shimmy my trousers off. Galiva’s gentle and quick about it, but I still wince at her touch.

“Fucking hell, Dom,” she mutters.

I keep my face buried into the pillow. “Is it bad?”

She snorts. “It’s not good. What the hell happened?”

“Nothing!” I insist. “We just... got a little rough.”

Galiva scoffs. “This is more than just ‘rough,’” she points out. Her voice softens as she says, “Dom, if something happened, you can tell us.”

I groan and shake my head, the shame from earlier returning full force.

“I swear, if he hurt you to get back at me, I’ll show him that a mild burn is the least of what I can do,” Olbric growls.

“For fuck’s sake, I egged him on!” I snap. “He didn’t do anything I didn’t ask him to.”

They fall quiet at that. I bury my face back against the pillow, mortification burning through me. When Galiva’s hand rests on my back, I can’t quite stop a flinch. Her lips press against the back of my neck.

“We’re not here to judge,” she says gently. “Just... be careful, alright?”

“I have more than learned my lesson,” I say, already dreading the conversation with Arlon tomorrow.

Galiva is gentle and professional as she cleans me up. “It’s not dire enough to use a spell on, so there’s not much to be done other than let them heal on their own. I’ve got some things that will help them along though.”

Once I’ve pulled my trousers back on, she hands me a handkerchief filled with what looks like little wax sticks that are shorter than my pinky finger.

“You have a couple pretty good tears,” she says. “Use one of these every night and store them in a cool place. They’ll coat the tears and help them heal easier. I want you to soak in the baths every day as well, and don’t go putting anything inside of you for at least two weeks.”

I take the little bundle, unable to meet her eyes as I nod. She cups my cheek and makes me. “You know that you beat the odds by not landing yourself here in your first year, right?” she teases gently. “All of us get a little overzealous at some point or another.”

That makes me feel a little better, and I lean into her hand. “Thanks, Gal.”

Her thumb strokes my cheek as she asks, “Are you sure everything’s alright?”

I can see the concern on her face, and I put my hand over hers, squeezing gently. “I’m fine,” I promise. “And me and Thaddius are fine.” I glance behind her to catch Olbric’s eye. “I don’t want either of you making something of this. We both just... lost track of ourselves for a second, alright? Nothing more.”

Galiva leans forward to press a kiss against my forehead. “How and who you cast with is your own business,” she says. “Just... for goodness’ sake, use proper lubricant.”

I can’t help a rueful chuckle as I run my fingers through my hair. “Like I said - lesson thoroughly learned.”

“Good,” Galiva says. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to sleep.”

I smile and pull her into a tight hug. “Thanks, Gal,” I murmur. “Sorry to wake you up for something... so, so stupid.”

Galiva chuckles. “You’re not the first person, and you won’t be the last. You’re able to cast just fine, so are you still up for our divination date Wednesday?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” I promise and squeeze her hand once more before I let her go. “Thanks again, Gal.”

She gives Olbric a chaste kiss on his forehead before she heads out of the infirmary. Olbric’s sitting on the bed across from me, his arms resting on his thighs. I get up and only wince a little as I walk over and I drape my arms around his shoulders, fingers toying with the end of his ponytail.

“You still kind of look like you’re itching for round two,” I point out flatly.

Olbric sighs as he rests his hands on my hips. “I kind of am. I’ve never really gotten along with Thaddius, but after today he’s officially on my shit list.”

I twist his thick black hair around my finger, sensing that there’s more to it than that. His face is closed off, his expression hard to read.

“What are you thinking?” I ask quietly.

Olbric doesn’t meet my eyes as he says, “Galiva’s right that you can cast or conduit for whoever you want, but... I’d feel a whole lot better if you didn’t cast or conduit for Thaddius again.”

I didn't like who I was when I conduited for him. Even now with a little distance, I still feel ashamed of how I egged him on. It’s not hard to agree to those terms.

"Alright,” I say. "No more casting or conduiting with Thaddius.”

Olbric gives a small smile at that. "Thank you." He sighs and shakes his head. "If I had just won the fucking tournament like I was supposed to, none of this would have happened."

"Stop," I order gently. "You are not responsible for my questionable decisions."

Olbric sighs as his fingers dip under my shirt. "I just... thought tonight would be a lot different.”

I cup his cheek. "I know. But at least I get to fall asleep next to you. And in two weeks, maybe we can redo the rest of the night."

Olbric chuckles at that and turns to kiss my fingers. "Deal."

Making History

As a conduit for transmutation, it is important that you embody the role you have been given, whether that be of an object, an animal, or even another person.

Advanced Casting Principles: Transmutation by Namina Kimathi

––––––––

I SLEEP SO HARD THAT Olbric wakes before me. That more than anything lets me know just how much yesterday wore me out. I'm groggy and sore, but a long soak in the baths and a hot cup of tea help me feel worlds better. After we eat breakfast, I feel just about normal, save for the lingering ache in my backside.

Together, Olbric and I head to Arlon’s office. His pockets clank gently, full of the focuses he got out of me yesterday, but I can practically feel the nerves coming from him. I reach out to take his hand, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. It snaps him out of his thoughts.

“I swear, if I lost the tournament and this spell is still a bust, I’m going to quit magic all together,” Olbric mutters.

I chuckle as I bring his hand to my lips, brushing a kiss across his fingers. “Guess it’s a good thing the spell isn’t a bust then.” Olbric gives me a doubtful look, but I say, “Take it from the conduit who watched his lover fight valiantly through three whole rounds - the spell did not fail.”

Olbric lets out a breath before he gives me a sidelong grin. “Hmm, but I could definitely get used to you calling me your lover.”

I twine my fingers with his before I turn to pin him gently against the wall. When I press my chest to his, I can feel the gentle hitch in his breath before I catch his lips in a kiss. When we part, I wink and say, “Then let’s go prove me right, lover.”

Yet when we reach Arlon’s office, there's a shine of abjuration around the door. I frown and press my ear against the wood to try and hear what's going on behind it. Usually I can at least catch some murmuring, but not a peep makes it past the barrier.

Olbric and I share a look before he knocks. For a long moment, nothing happens.

"Maybe we should come back?" I ask. I'm not exactly looking forward to the questions that I know are coming.

But as soon as the words leave my mouth, the door opens. Paulette the Chamberlain and Farlan the Quartermaster emerge with Bridgette following just a step behind. She winks at us as she passes, a letter in hand. I can't help but wonder what this particular meeting was about that warranted such secrecy.

Olbric and I walk into the office to find Arlon behind his desk, Garrett leaning against the edge of it. They both look up as we enter.

"Sorry to keep you two waiting," Arlon says. "How are you feeling today, Dom?"

Heat rises to my face. "Fine.”

"Do I need to be concerned?" Arlon asks, his gaze steady as he looks at me.

I flush hotter. "No, sir. Thaddius and I just got a little too rough."

Arlon doesn't seem fully convinced, but I'm relieved when he lets it drop. “I'll be sure to keep that in mind for our day tomorrow. I have plenty of spell sheets and deliveries to keep you busy instead," he says with a shadow of a grin, and I bite back a pout. He gets up from behind his desk as he asks, "Are you ready to test your spell, Olbric?"

Olbric reaches into his pocket to pull out one of the spells we made. He gives himself a shake, as if trying to jiggle the nerves out. “Yes, sir.”

Arlon motions to the sizable block of iron waiting in the corner of his office. "Whenever you’re ready.”

Olbric flips the focus between his fingers before he holds the spell out. He closes his eyes and the focus glows with a golden light as he releases the spell.

There's a strange sound, almost like a bell ringing. It resonates through me, making the hairs on my neck stand on end. For a breathless moment, the iron block seems to shiver before it dissolves into hundreds of gold coins.

I can't stop a whoop of triumph. Olbric beams at me before throwing his arms around me with a laugh. I give him a spin, lifting him off his feet for just a moment before setting him back down.

When I release him, Arlon claps him on the shoulder, smiling from ear to ear. "Well done, Olbric," he says. “You have truly done the impossible with this. You should be proud.”

Olbric’s shoulders slump with relief. "Thank you, sir,” he says, and there’s a slight tremor in his voice, as if he can’t quite believe it. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the hefty handful of focuses. “I suppose this kind of spell is relegated to the Crux’s stores?"

"I think that’s wisest,” Arlon says. “Careless use of that spell could topple whole economies. They will be safely stored with the higher-caliber spells to be used with discretion, though I think you have more than earned the reward from this one.”

Arlon motions to the pile of coins in the corner of his office, and my mouth drops. That's got to be years’ worth of stipend.

"Imagine that - I lost the tournament, but I get some prize money all the same," Olbric chuckles before he nudges me with his elbow. "I can think of a couple of things I'd like to spend it on."

I grin at that as I rub my cheek. I've only recently started to get used to having coin, but Olbric seems to have no such problem.

"Guess we better make a trip to Varice's dress shop," I mutter.

Olbric chuckles before Garrett says, “Arlon and I have been talking about a suitable spell for the final trial of your transmutation mastery. Arlon normally puts people through endurance-style spells, but after yesterday I had a feeling you wouldn't be up for anything like that. So, I was hoping to do an alteration spell instead. Something that will change a person's appearance for a stint. Since you've already perfected doing it without magic, I think you'd be the perfect person to get a spell like this from."

Olbric looks a little surprised. "I-I've never dressed up for anyone but Dom," he says as he glances at me, a painful kind of hope on his face.

I can't help but smile at that. I want to tell him it's alright - that he can dress up whenever he wants to. But then Garrett sweetens the deal. "Which is why I wondered if Dom would like to help cast the spell?"

I flush with pleasure at the thought. "I'd love to."

Garrett smiles and looks at Olbric. "Do you think you're up for it today, Olbric?"

Olbric beams at us. "Absolutely."

MY HANDS STILL SHAKE as I pull open the trunk at the foot of my bed. After so many months designing and waiting and planning, it’s an indescribable relief to have the spell finally finished.

And with it, I’ll go down in history as the wizard who unlocked the secret to transmuting gold.

I feel giddy as I throw the trunk open. The first part of my transmutation confirmation is over, and the relief of the success turns to excitement as I look at the neatly folded lady’s clothes Dom and I have collected over the past few months.

It had started simple at first. Unmentionables, small clothes. Things that tantalized with the little they didn’t expose. But we’ve branched out since then and have gathered quite a collection.

I have a few slips, even a couple dresses. Nothing grand or fancy, but maybe with the reward from my transmutation spell, I can finally indulge a little. I run my fingers over the various fabrics and laces, trying to decide which one to bring down.

After a few minutes hemming and hawing, my impatience gets the better of me. I snap the lid down and latch it closed. Dom usually decides anyway, and I don’t want to keep him and Garrett waiting.

My collection of makeup is in neat little pots on my desk, and I scoop those up too, bundling them carefully in one of my scarves. It’ll be hell reorganizing them, but I feel like I should bring all my options, just to be safe.

I grab the handle of the chest and carefully take the bundled scarf under my arm. It all weighs a ton, and after yesterday, my muscles ache as I wrangle the heavy trunk, swearing as the corner of it hits my sore shin.

It’s a struggle, but I manage to get it all downstairs without dropping anything. I’m huffing and puffing by the time I reach Arlon’s office before I tap the door with my boot. I swear, it wasn’t until I started dressing as one that I realized just how much work goes into being a woman.

Arlon opens the door for me, looking rather amused. “Dom and Garrett are waiting for you downstairs. But don't worry, Dom gathered up your reward for you after you ran off and left it on the floor."

I flush, a little embarrassed. "I swear, I'm not usually so careless with money.” Arlon chuckles, and I drag my trunk into his office before I meet the Grandmaster’s eye. "Thank you for organizing all of this. The tournament, the accommodations for my final trial... none of it would have been possible without you."

Arlon's heavy hand rests on my shoulder. "I know yesterday didn't end like you hoped it would, but you should be proud of what you accomplished, Olbric. And even if I can't be a part of it, I know you'll excel today."

A pang of longing rushes through me. I'm happy to be conduiting for Dom and Garrett for my final trial, but I can't help but wonder what today would be like if my circumstances were a little different. Without the constant threat of my father escalating things with Straetham, I would be undertaking this with Arlon.

"Thank you, sir," I say quietly, not quite able to meet his eye.

The Grandmaster sighs before he says, “I’m afraid I have a bit of bad news, though.”

The high I’ve been riding abruptly plummets. “What news?”

“Our question as to whether or not Feisal has a spy inside of the Crux has been answered,” Arlon rumbles, his displeasure obvious. “In the royal box, he had knowledge about yours and Dom’s relationship, which I have a hard time believing is common town gossip.”

No, it wouldn’t be. There’s nothing remarkable about two wizards being seen out and about together. But the fact that Feisal has stooped low enough to get dirt on my personal relationships inside of the Crux makes anger pool in the pit of my stomach.

Arlon snaps me out of my thoughts when he says, “I won’t stand for this, Olbric. Unless you have reason to believe otherwise, I think it must be one of the staff. I plan to find out who is leaking the information, and I’ll make sure they never step foot inside the Crux’s walls again.”

Trust is something that every wizard takes seriously, and I can’t imagine any of them betraying mine like this. The staff, on the other hand... they know us, but not in the same way. It’s not hard to imagine Cairish coin loosening someone’s tongue. I sigh as I rub my face. “Thank you.”

Arlon offers me a small smile before his hand tightens on my shoulder. “I wanted to tell you sooner rather than later, but please try to put it from your mind. Don’t let him put a cloud over your success today.”

My shoulders slump as I let out a sigh. Truth be told, the last thing I want to think about is Feisal. Not when I still have my final trial for my transmutation mastery to get through. Not when I’ve just made history.

“Thank you, sir,” I say, pushing the troubling thought away. “I’ll make you proud today.”

Arlon’s hand tightens before he lets go of my shoulder. “You already have.”

I carry my things down to the dungeon to find Dom and Garrett waiting for me. They fall abruptly quiet as I appear on the stairs, and Dom wears a grin that helps replace some of my unease with anticipation. The quiet seclusion, knowing that it’s just the three of us, helps too, and I can’t help the smile that flickers onto my face.

I'm not sure how exactly this spell will go, but if the look of mischief and lust on Dom’s face is any indication, it will be fun.

"Couldn't narrow it down, could you?" Dom asks.

I set my trunk on the ground with a thud. "You didn't come up to help me pick out an outfit," I shoot back. "And I barely have an idea of what I'm dressing for."

Garrett chuckles. "How would you feel about going into town?"

My unease shoots right back up. "Leave the Crux?"

"I figured we could make that trip to Varice's," Dom says. "I've always just guessed sizes, but now you could get something tailored."

My first thought is a resounding fuck no, but my second thought speaks a little louder. If someone inside of the Crux is keeping an eye on me, I could at least stay out of sight until we’re out of the Crux, right? The idea of undertaking this spell away from prying eyes is appealing, but an undercurrent of dread flows through me like a slow-moving river. Because going into public means inviting scrutiny, and not just for being wizards out and about.

No, this would be inviting comments about being a man in a Goddamn dress in the middle of town.

"I-I don't know if I'm ready to go out in public," I say at last.

Dom's smile softens as he steps towards me and takes my hand. "We'll do whatever you're comfortable with. Garrett thinks the spell will work either way."

I smile as his fingers brush over my battered knuckles. "Let me get dressed and see how I feel?”

"Deal," Dom says.

"But first..." I look over to see Garrett sitting on the edge of the large bed, but it takes me a second longer to notice the string of uncharged focuses dangling from his finger.

"Right," I say, anticipation singing through my veins. I shed my boots before handing my spell necklace over to Dom. When I pull off my shirt and drop my trousers, my skin prickles in the chill of the dungeon. My small clothes are the last to go, and I stand shivering under Dom and Garrett's gaze.

Garrett beckons me forward with a finger. It’s a bit of a thrill to realize I’ve never cast with him in this intimate of a setting before. In the past, it's been during the summer storms when we make the spell for light globes, and God knows the orgies on top of the Crux are anything but private.

His hand is warm as he grabs my arm and pulls me over his lap. Even as tall as I am, I feel dwarfed by him. His gray arms are peppered with scars, and one hand rests on the small of my back to pin me lightly. Heat pools in my stomach, and my cock stirs, already eager at the prospect of today. Splayed out over Garrett’s lap like an unruly child, I know he can feel it, too.

Garrett moves slowly, his thick fingers trailing down my back and ass before teasing at my hole. I grip the fabric of his trousers as I bite back a moan. He spreads my cheeks before a drop of cold lube makes a bullseye against my entrance. I yelp, but it morphs to a moan as his finger rubs gently before just entering me.

He takes his time to prepare me, making sure I'm nice and worked up. His fingers are deliciously thick, and the feel of them stretching me makes me spread my legs further in invitation. But that's not the spell we're casting today.

Once I've relaxed, Garrett pushes the string of marbles into me, one at a time. Six in all settle inside of me, making me feel pleasantly full, though Garrett leaves the string connecting them dangling, a small metal ring tied to the end.

"Go get dressed," Garrett says, a hint of wicked pleasure in his voice.

I straighten up only to see Dom's heated gaze watching me. He's got that look - the one he usually reserves for when I'm wearing his collar around my neck. Seeing it makes my cock twitch.

"I've got a surprise for you today," he says as he saunters towards me. A hand dips into the pocket of his robe before he pulls out a shiny metal chastity belt. "Since we're hoping for a transmutation that will alter features, I think it only makes sense that we hide your cock away."

It's different from the one he used on me last time. The one I had worn for our little bet kept my cock locked into a little cylindrical cage of metal, but the belt he’s holding looks more like what I've seen Ambra use.

"Yes, Dom," I say. Even if I don't have his collar on, it's obvious who's in control today.

Dom smiles and steps towards me, his hand gliding over my naked hip. The metal belt goes around my waist and connects in the front with a quiet click. Leather straps curve over the swell of my ass before joining a curved piece of metal that looks like a codpiece. Dom pulls it up between my legs and only then can I see that on the back of the codpiece is a metal channel that's meant for my cock to go through.

Dom guides my length into the little cylinder, and since I'm already half hard, it's no easy feat. A whimper breaks past my pursed lips, and I grab his shoulders as he gets my cock settled into the little device. He tucks my testicles behind the curve of the codpiece as well before he puts it all together with another quiet click.

It’s a tight fit. My cock aches in the snug confines, my testicles locked close to my body, but when I look down, I have to admit that the illusion is impressive. Without further investigation, you'd be hard pressed to tell I have a cock underneath the pretty metal cage. Yet as I settle into the device, I can feel that the leather straps that curve down over my ass don't hinder access to my hole.

I'm panting by the time Dom slides the little lock through the front of the belt and snaps it closed. The key goes on a string around his neck to rest among his spells. We're not working a conjuration spell, so I doubt I'll be in the cage very far into the evening, and thank God for that. Just feeling the way the cage keeps my cock from swelling makes me squirm.

Then I catch sight of myself in the mirrors behind the bed. Even as bruised and battered as I am, I have to admit that I look good without a cock dangling between my legs.

I shake the distraction aside before I head over to my chest and flip it open, but the indecision comes in hot again. It wouldn’t hurt to dress like I’m going into town even if I decide not to, right? No harm in that.

I look over my shoulder to Dom. “Will you choose a dress for me?”

Dom smiles as he comes to join me at the trunk before pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Of course.”

I leave him to it as I start getting ready, my stomach fluttering with excitement. The black garter belt goes on first. I pull it around my waist and tie the little laces in front before I slide on my black thigh-high stockings. I lace the straps of the garter through the little rings on my stockings and pull them tight to keep them in place. Some lace small clothes go on last, and as I bend over to pull them up, I can feel Garrett’s eyes on me. It’s enough to heat my cheeks, but I ignore him the best I can.

My black corset is next. I loosen all the laces before I pull it around my waist. The little silver clasps on the front come together under my fingers before I look over my shoulder at Garrett.

“Help a lady out?”

His deep chuckle rumbles through me as he comes forward. He rests his hands on my waist as he guides me towards the wall. I lay my hands flat to brace myself as he pulls at the laces. Every tug cinches my waist in a little tighter. Inside of the cage, my cock aches with anticipation.

It’s strange - dressing up doesn’t get me heated, but the fact that I only ever do it when I’m collared tricks my cock into thinking it knows what’s coming next. But it’s a thrill to realize that I don’t know. Other than the possibility of going into town, I have no idea what this spell is going to entail.

“Too tight?” Garrett asks.

“Not at all,” I say. The way the corset hugs my waist almost feels like armor. He ties off my laces before kissing the back of my neck. It makes my skin shiver, and I hope that whatever today entails, it’ll include a rough fuck or two. Guess I better finish getting dressed and find out.

I grab my bundle of cosmetics before going over to sit on the large bed. The mirrors that make a semi-circle around it are the only ones in the dungeon, so they’ll have to do.

“I’ll try not to make a mess, but no promises.”

“I’m sure these sheets will need washing by the end of the night anyway,” Garrett chuckles, making heat run straight to my trapped cock.

“Promises, promises,” I say before laying out the various pots. If we’re going out, I want to put on a full face, so I get to work. Dom must have made his selection because he and Garrett settle onto the bed behind me to watch.

In the past few months, this has become a ritual in and of itself. It’s been...fun to discover new tricks to change my face. A bit of paint from a few different pots adds highlights and shadows, softening the angles of my jaw. Black kohl and the last little bit of gold powder I have draws attention to my eyes. I stain my lips with rouge, making them look plump and tempting. The final touch is to pull the tie out of my hair and let the locks fall over my shoulders.

It’s taken years to grow it this long. Men in Cairish aren’t supposed to wear their hair past their ears, but I always envied my sisters with their long, silky tresses. Even before I left home, I kept it just long enough to piss my father off, though what started as rebellion has turned into a point of pride. My hair is just like my mother’s. Thick and wavy and black as coal. Let loose and brushed to a shine, it cascades over my shoulders and down my back.

Behind me, Garrett whistles. “That’s... impressive.”

I grin at his reflection. “Just wait until I’m fully dressed.”

I get to my feet and go to my chest again. A petticoat is tightened around my waist before I see the maroon dress Dom has left waiting for me, draped over the nearby chair. He’s already shaken the wrinkles out of it for me, and as I pull it on, I’m not sure why my hands are shaking when I’ve done this dozens of times.

Before I can even ask for help, Dom is behind me. His fingers are gentle as he does up the line of buttons down the back. It’s nothing fancy, but it fits me like a glove. The shoulders of the dress puff out a little before tapering into long sleeves that go down to my wrists. The collar of the dress forms a v in the front that just toes the line of immodest. If I had any more of a bust, it would be. The form of the corset gives me a hint of a chest, but I help myself out by reaching down and adjusting my pectorals to give the illusion of cleavage.

I don’t have anything to cover my spell-battered hands, but at least the long sleeves of the dress cover all my bruises. I slip my shoes on last and wish, not for the first time, that I could find a proper pair of women’s slippers in my size. My scuffed pattens will have to do. Fortunately, the hem of the dress covers them most of the time.

I take a deep breath before I turn to face Dom and Garrett. Garrett’s mouth drops open, and Dom’s smile looks fit to split his face in half. I flush hot under their scrutiny before I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirrors.

I look... beautiful. Willowy and feminine and delicate. It fills me with an emotion I can't quite place, and I shiver as the focuses inside of me spark and start to charge.

Dom takes one of my hands and brings it to his lips. "How do you feel?"

"Good," I say. "How do I look?"

Dom gently presses his lips to mine, sending a little thrill of pleasure through me. "Incredible."

"You look like a lady of the court," Garrett says.

I can't help but laugh. "Maybe more of the night court in this," I say and look down at the revealing front of my garment.

"Nonsense," Garrett says. "Bridgette's told me that the ladies' fashion for this summer doesn’t even have sleeves. What you're wearing is conservative by those standards."

I chuckle at that as Dom pulls out the hefty bag containing my transmuted coins. "With all this, you could get whatever dress you wanted and then some if we make a trip into town."

I flush as I think about it. The idea of it is exciting, but the reality of all that could go wrong comes in hot. If the person who’s leaking information is off today, if they see me in town... The fact that the odds of it are so unlikely that it’s barely worth thinking about doesn’t stop me from asking, "What if it gets back to Feisal?”

“Fuck him,” Dom says simply. “What can he do besides whine home about it?"

Garrett chuckles and says, "I honestly doubt the Ambassador would be able to recognize you if he stood right in front of you. But if you'd like, we can give you a cloak for a little extra assurance. Whoever is leaking information out of the Crux won't think twice about a hooded woman coming or going."

“Hell, I even have an illusion we can use to get you out the doors, if you want,” Dom says.

I bite my lip as I think it over. Dom's right. Ultimately, neither my father nor his ambassador have any real power over me in Straetham. My father sends his threatening letters to Arlon, has Feisal spy and meddle to try and shame me into coming home, but all of it amounts to nothing more than the tantrums of a desperate man. Being a Shykh's only son means nothing here to anyone but Feisal, and I couldn't care less what that bastard thinks.

"You're right," I say at last. "Fuck him."

Dom beams at me before offering me his arm. “Shall we, my lady?”

I can’t help but chuckle as I slide my arm through his. “Let’s go.”

Confirmation

Transmutation materials are widely variable. Depending on what you are trying to accomplish with your spells, different styles of bonds, cages, and even clothes can have an impact on the spell you produce.

Advanced Casting Principles: Transmutation by Namina Kimathi

I DECIDE TO WEAR A hood after all. It keeps my face covered in shadow as Dom, Garrett, and I slip out the lower entrance to the dungeon and leave through the posterior courtyard. Margeurite is on guard duty with Ambra at the rear drawbridge today, chatting idly to pass the time through yet another dull duty shift.

Arlon seems convinced that if anyone is leaking information from the Crux, it’s one of the non-magical staff, so I’m not worried about the two of them seeing me. But I am curious to see how good my disguise is. As we pass, I don’t say a word as I keep my hood lowered.

Ambra smiles at Dom before she does a double take at me. Her gasp is audible. "You look beautiful, Olbric!"

Coming from her, it's high praise. It was her and Galiva that dressed me up for the first time, after all. I wink at her and put my finger to my lips as we sweep past. "I was never here."

Ambra lets out a small laugh. "Of course not. Just Dominai and Garrett escorting a lady from the Crux."

I beam at that and bite my lip as the focuses in me crackle with charge. I hide my blush by pulling my hood up a little further, casting my face in shadows. We make our way across the drawbridge before joining the road into town.

"How are you feeling?" Dom asks.

I give a small laugh. "Honestly? Kind of amazing.”

I'm not the only one enjoying myself, either. Garrett’s wearing an easy smile, his face turned towards the warm sun. I realize that this must be the first time he's been out without an escort since the King officially put an end to his probation.

"And here I was worried about getting an enchantment out of you rather than a transmutation," Dom says.

"Told you - I'm fast to adapt," I say. Truth be told, I’ve had a few months to get used to this. When Dom first dressed me up, it was embarrassing. The idea of being paraded around as a woman had been humiliating, degrading even, but the more we did it, the more I started thinking about why it made me feel like that.

And the realization had been... troubling.

Growing up in Cairish had given me a very narrow view of who women were allowed to be. They were sisters until they became wives and then wives until they became mothers. The women in my home country aren't allowed the freedoms of women from Straetham or Kenitka or Immenbach. They can't inherit or rule or even own businesses as they do in the west. They are kept as sisters or wives or mothers, without a real say in the matter.

And though I love my mother and my sisters more than anything, it wasn't until I was confronted with being viewed as a woman myself that I realized something. A deeply ingrained belief that I assumed I had given up with everything else when I left Cairish. It was a shock to realize that I had internalized the women in my life as being... lesser. As if being a woman was something to be ashamed of. When Dom dressed me up for the first time, I’d had to confront that realization head-on.

But nothing about this feels shameful. I pull my hood back, letting the early afternoon sun hit my face. I feel elegant, and sexy, and... powerful. It’s easy to walk with my head held high as we make our way down the road from the Crux.

Spring has arrived in earnest, and the breeze feels nice as it rustles through my skirts. I keep my arm through Dom’s, letting him lead the way. It’s only when we’re halfway to town that I grab for my necklace to check my spells, only to realize they’re not there. A flash of panic shoots through me, and I jerk both me and Dom to an abrupt stop.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“I left my spells in the dungeon.” I’d been so wrapped up in everything that I completely forgot them.

Dom grabs my hands as he turns to face me. Even before I was jumped by Diran and his cadre, I always made sure to keep my spells on me. I blame having one too many axes aimed at my head during patrols. Even inside of the Crux, it’s a rare time I’m not wearing them.

“We can go back if you want,” Dom says, ever understanding.

I look at him and see his spells hanging around his neck. He’s been here for little over a year, and already he’s created quite the collection. With his probation finally ended, Garrett’s also carrying a few strands, though I’m sure he keeps most of his stashed somewhere else. Carrying around that amount of weight all the time would be overkill, even by my standards.

I take a breath. We’re just doing a quick trip into town. If something happens, I can trust them to protect me. Besides, it only seems fitting while working this particular spell. Having to rely on a man for protection is a regular part of my sisters’ lives, so if I’m truly a woman today it only makes sense that I do the same, right?

“I’ll be alright,” I say. “Dress shopping isn’t nearly as risky as people make it seem.”

Dom chuckles at that and squeezes my hand. He kisses my cheek, his arm sliding around my waist, though a not-so-innocent ass grab follows a second later. It startles a laugh out of me before I slap his hand away.

The road gets busier the closer we get to town. For the most part, folks give us a wide berth or resolutely ignore us. When they do look our way, it’s usually to do a double take at Garrett rather than me. Whether from acting as arbiter of the tournament, or from the attack on the city square, he must still be fresh in their memories. It hurts to see a woman hide her child behind her skirts as he passes.

Even though I’m sure he notices, Garrett ignores it as he leads the way for us. “I have to swing by my home to check on Bridgette,” he says. “But I’ll meet you at Varice’s in a bit.”

“Looking forward to sleeping in your own bed?” Dom asks.

Garrett chuckles. “Very much so, but Bridgette and I are going to stay at the Crux one more week. She ran a letter to the merchant’s guild this morning, but she was eager to check on things in the glasshouse. No doubt she’s going to want my help moving something heavy.”

We part ways just outside of the market. Without him there, the attention starts to drift to me. A wizard and the near-six-foot-tall woman with him are enough to draw eyes. Usually I enjoy the bustle of people and noise, but my confidence starts to waver, and I lose all interest in looking at the stalls. Especially when a few leering eyes catch mine. Now, I just want to get through the market as quickly as we can.

In the direct aftermath of the attack on the square, I remember being heckled when Dom and I went into town. Then, as winter dragged on, it morphed into a quieter sort of unease every time someone caught sight of a spell necklace. Now, our reception is a strange mix. The suspicion is still there, but in the wake of the tournament, there are a few curious smiles when people catch sight of Dom’s spells. They look at his face, as if trying to decide if he was a competitor or not. Fortunately, not many seem inclined to scrutinize me that closely.

When we arrive at Varice’s shop, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Dom hears it and turns to me outside of the door as he squeezes my hand. “Still alright?”

I brush a strand of hair behind my ear. “I finally understand your dislike of the market,” I admit. “But I’m alright.”

Dom chuckles at that. “Glad you know my struggle now,” he says before he grabs the door and opens it for me. “After you, my lady.”

I smile as I walk into Varice’s shop. The calm, quiet interior is a relief from the bustle of the street. It doesn’t hurt that there’s a stunning dress on the form in front of the window to grab my attention. It’s definitely one of the summer dresses Garrett mentioned, made in a pale blue fabric that shines with silver embroidery. It’s sleeveless, with a corset built into the top, and a full, multi-layered skirt. Simple, but all the more elegant for it.

“Ah, Master Dominai, it’s good to see you again.”

I jump, my skirts rustling as I turn to look at the tiny woman that’s come to greet us. Dom smiles as he takes her hand.

“Good to see you too, Varice.”

The pale-skinned woman smiles up at me through thick glasses. She’s older, with wrinkles gently etching her kind face. “And who is this enchanting young woman?”

Dom opens his mouth, but I beat him to it as I blurt, “Omari.”

It’s not the first time I’ve changed my name, but this one certainly came with much less thought. Even if it did just pop into my head, somehow it fits.

Dom looks at me curiously. “Omari,” he repeats. “This is who I’ve been coming and spending all my money on, though today she’s looking to spend some of her own.”

Varice chuckles and takes my hand to give it a delicate squeeze. “Well, thank you for your patronage, my dear,” she says. “When I have to dress myself every day, I’m always so pleased to dress a tall girl.”

I immediately like her. Varice leads me to the circle of mirrors, and a measuring tape appears in her hand like magic before she loops it around my waist. In the mirror’s reflection, I watch Dom head to the chair by the window, wincing as he sits. No doubt all of this walking is less than comfortable for him. He deserved a day off after all he went through yesterday, but it fills me with warmth that he chose to be here with me instead.

“What sort of garment are you in the market for?” Varice asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“A dress,” I say definitively. “I’ll admit that my wardrobe is sorely lacking.”

Varice chuckles at that. “Well, you are certainly in the right place to remedy that. Is this for a particular function?”

The fact that she thinks I’m someone important enough to be attending functions makes me smile. “Nothing in particular. Wizards don’t have much occasion to dress up, I’m afraid.”

“Well, that tournament you all put on was quite the spectacle, I hear,” she says. “Maybe you’ll have more occasion now that folks are starting to take more of an interest in the Crux?”

“I can’t imagine Arlon wanting to host again any time soon,” I admit.

“Give him more than a day to prepare for a royal presence, and I think he might,” Dom pipes up from his chair. “He really seemed to enjoy himself.”

I chuckle at that and say, “Alright, then. No harm in being prepared, I suppose.”

Varice beams at me. “Excellent. Now, I have a few different styles that we can customize to suit you. Are there any colors you’re partial to?”

Varice leads me through the store, showing me dress after dress. There are garments for every season and all levels of formality, from ball gowns to evening dresses. The fabrics are soft and lustrous, but when Varice shows me the wall of rolls to choose from, my mouth drops open. There's wool so soft that it feels like down, linen fine enough to see through. There's fabric of every color, expertly dyed and vibrant.

"I get cloth from all across the continent," Varice says with no small amount of pride. "I have Kiali cottons, Belingrad wools, even Cairish and Xiao silks."

"Incredible," I breathe. It's a temptation to touch every skein, but I resist. When I was young, I spent hours watching my mother at her loom. Seeing a cloth come together line by line was always a little mesmerizing, its own sort of magic. When I left home, I brought that hobby with me, but the shine of the magiline fabric I’m working on has nothing on some of Varice’s wares.

“Where on earth is Xiao?” Dom asks.

“East of the Gonia desert,” I say. “We would trade with them often enough in Cairish, but I didn’t think they made it this far west.”

“It’s a rare occasion,” Varice says. “But I have an arrangement with the merchant’s guild. They know I have the coin for whatever they are able to find.”

“You must have some impressive clientèle,” I say as a sunflower-yellow fabric catches my eye. It has a luster to it that I can’t seem to look away from.

“I am pleased to say that I have dressed the King himself,” Varice says before she sees where I’m looking. “Ah, you have a taste for home, I see. This is a silk that came to me last year from Cairish.”

“It’s beautiful,” I say and can’t help but run it through my fingers. It flows like water over my hand. I almost dread asking, but I do anyway. “How much would you charge for a dress in the summer fashion made of this?”

She tells me, and from his seat, Dom makes a noise like he’s just choked. I sweep over to grab my purse from him with a wink before looking through the contents. I wish I had counted it before we left, but instead, I hold the purse out to Varice.

“Will this cover it?”

Varice tugs the string of the purse open, and one white eyebrow raises when she sees the wealth inside. “I’ve never seen an unmarked coin before,” she says. She picks one out and goes to her counter to pull out an unglazed ceramic tile. She drags the coin across it, and it leaves a streak of gold behind. “My dear, for this amount, I will happily make the dress for you, and you can choose any one of my pre-made garments so I can tailor it to fit.”

I beam at her before I look at the row of dresses. I can't help but think of how jealous Cancassi is going to be. They’ve always had a taste for fine clothes, but even their impressive wardrobe has nothing on Varice's wares.

“You have a deal.”

Picking just one is no easy task. Dom is happy to give his opinion as I hold up a few different options. It takes some hard decisions, but I finally settle on a fine white linen dress with mid-length ruffled sleeves and buttons all down the front. It’s less formal than my yellow dress will be, and I think they’ll balance each other out nicely. Varice has me go behind a partition to try it on before she pins the adjustments into place.

“Gods, your poor arms,” she says when she notices the bruises on my forearms. “What on earth happened?”

I flush a little. “I participated in the tournament yesterday.”

“And took an honorable second place,” Dom calls from his chair, and I roll my eyes.

“Certainly nothing to spit at!” Varice chuckles around a mouthful of pins. “And I do appreciate a strong girl, but your shoulders are almost too big for this. I can make adjustments to the sleeves, but they may look a little different once I’m finished, if that’s alright.”

I smile at that. “I trust your judgment.”

Once Varice has all the measurements she needs, I go behind the partition and slip back into my maroon dress. When I emerge, Varice hands me a hand-written receipt with a smile.

“It will take me a couple of weeks to finish these, but I hope they will be worth the wait,” she says.

I take the little piece of parchment before squeezing her hand. “I know it will be. Thank you, Varice.”

The old woman chuckles and says, “It has been my pleasure, Omari. Please, feel free to come by anytime. It’s been a joy.”

When I walk over to him, Dom is peering out the window, brows furrowed. “Still no sign of Garrett,” he says, concern coloring his voice. “Do you think we should wait to see if he shows up?”

I glance out the window at the bustle of the market, but as tall as he is, Garrett should be easy to spot. “Varice, if a gray-skinned half-orc comes looking for us, will you tell him we’ve gone to his house?” I ask.

The old woman chuckles at that. “Wizards are a varied lot, aren’t you? Of course, my dear. I’ll be sure to pass the message on if I see him.”

Dom opens the door for me, but the concern doesn’t fade from his face. As soon as we’re out of the shop, he asks, “Do you think something happened?”

Unease settles in my stomach. Just going off of people’s reaction to him on our trip into town, it’s not out of the realm of possibility. “God willing he’s just been held up at home. Let’s go check.”

I lead the way away from Varice’s shop. I’ve only been to Garrett and Bridgette’s house once to pick up some herbs for Galiva, but it’s easy to find. It’s a small residence just outside of the main market, but the glasshouse attached to it nearly doubles the size of it. Dom lets out a whistle as he catches sight of the greenery inside of the glass-walled structure.

“I’ve never seen anything like that,” he says, his eyes wide.

“Just wait until you see inside,” I say before movement catches the corner of my eye. A boy, not quite yet an adult, walks around the corner of the glasshouse. He casts a quick look around before he pulls the heavy rock from his pocket and hurls it at the side of the glass wall with all his strength. There’s a resonating thunk as the rock connects, but a shine of abjuration ripples out from the spot, stopping the rock from breaking through.

“Hey!” I reach for the spells that aren’t there as the boy takes off at a run, darting out of sight down one of the nearby alleys.

Dom starts after him, but I grab his arm with an aggravated sigh. “It’s no use. He’s already gone.”

“Good thing Garrett and Bridgette reinforced the place,” he mutters.

We circle around to the front, unease settling like a weight in my stomach. The front door is locked, but Dom raps his knuckles against the wood. We wait a beat, and another, but no one answers. Dom knocks again, harder this time, just as I catch the faint sound of moaning from the shuttered window of the second floor. We share a knowing look, and I see my own relief reflected on his face.

There's a clamor from inside the house. Heavy footsteps come down the stairs before the door is thrown open. Garrett appears, and I can’t help but notice that the buttons of his trousers are undone, his shirt untucked. On the side of his neck, a fresh hickey stands out like a bruise. As soon as he sees us, he blushes a darker shade of gray.

"Oh gods, I lost track of time, didn't I?"

"Sure did," Dom chuckles. "We chased off some degen trying to put a rock through your window."

Garrett scowls and rubs his face. "He's not the first, and I'm sure he won't be the last. Bridgette reinforced the whole place after, well, you know.” A shadow passes behind his eyes but he's quick to shake it off. "Please, come in."

He steps aside to allow us in as he does up his buttons. I step into the small entryway just in time to see Bridgette peer down the wooden stairs, wearing nothing more than a blanket. She flushes red as I catch her eye before recognition lights up her face.

"Oh! Gods, I didn't even recognize you, Olbric. For a second, I thought you were someone making a house call."

I beam at that before Dom says, "It's Omari for today."

Bridgette chuckles and says, "My apologies, Omari. Let me get dressed and I'll be right down."

She disappears into the upper level as I turn to Garrett and say, "We were starting to worry.”

Garrett looks properly chagrined as he tucks in his shirt. "Ah hell, I'm sorry. After we finished in the glasshouse, we, ah, got a little carried away."

"Sorry to interrupt," Dom chuckles. "I figured we should find you before we did anything else. What's the plan now?"

Garrett runs a hand through his hair and says, "I suppose we should head back to the Crux. We have a spell to finish, after all." He gives me a look that makes me shiver, and I bite my lip as the focuses inside of me thrum. "Did you enjoy your trip to the market?"

I flush with pleasure just thinking about Varice and my purchases. "I really did. Thank you both for convincing me to come out. Today has been... incredible."

Dom kisses my cheek before he purrs against my ear, “Good thing we’re just getting started.” It sends a thrill of pleasure down my spine, and the awareness of the cage around my cock comes crashing back. I groan, hands fisting in the fabric of my skirt as he asks, “Ready to go home?”

I try not to seem too eager as I nod, but Dom can see right through me. His hand slides over the curve of my waist to dip between my legs. I can almost feel the heat of his palm through the cage, and groan as I roll my hips. “Please.”

Dom chuckles and nips my neck gently. “Good girl.”

WE MAKE THE RETURN trip to the Crux as a group. Bridgette walks with me, her arm linked with mine, while Dom and Garrett whisper a little ways behind us. I strain my ears to try and hear what they’re saying, but it’s no use. Whatever they’re planning, they’re doing their best to keep it a surprise.

The anticipation builds the whole way back so that even Bridgette’s questions about my newest purchases don’t do much to distract me. We head towards the posterior courtyard, and I pull my hood up before we get there. Marvin and Orabelle wave us through, but it’s reassuring that they don’t seem to recognize me at all.

Bridgette squeezes my hand once we’re inside. “Don’t let my husband torment you too much.”

Garrett’s chuckle makes the hair on my neck stand up. “I make no promises.”

We hurry through the posterior courtyard where the kitchens are already busying themselves for dinner. The doors to the kitchen are thrown open to let out some heat as we pass, and the gust of warm air ruffles my skirts as we pass. I can’t help but laugh, flushing as I hold them down.

We head back down to the bottom entrance of the dungeon, and I’m nearly shaking as Dom opens the door for me. My heart pounds against my ribs as I step inside, but it leaps into my throat when the door snaps closed behind me. Garrett’s large hand glides around my waist as he pulls me back against his broad chest, and it’s hard not to feel dainty and small in his grip.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

I can’t quite stop a groan as his hand trails down between my legs. Even though my cock is trapped and aching in the cage, the phantom of pleasure races through me as he rubs me through my skirts. I shiver as I sink into his grip.

“Randy, bordering on desperate,” I admit.

Garrett chuckles as he bunches up the front of my skirts and lifts them. Dom circles in front of me, a look of pure mischief on his face.

“Desperate?” Dom says. “Not yet, beautiful. But I’m sure looking forward to getting you there.”

I yelp as he ducks down underneath my skirts. When I try to squirm away, Garrett grabs my wrists and pulls me into a bear hug. Dom pushes my legs open, his mouth hot against my thigh.

Even though my cock is locked away, he focuses on what he can reach, tongue darting out to tease at my most sensitive spots. He trails his lips up my thighs to the crux of my legs before sucking gently. I moan, squirming in Garrett’s grip even as I feel the bulge of his cock through my skirts.

Then Dom’s tongue finds the tender spot of flesh behind my testicles that’s left uncovered by the metal codpiece. It tickles fiercely, and I yelp as I try to slam my legs shut, but Dom doesn’t let me. His hands hold tight to my thighs, keeping them wide open to the teasing attack from his lips and tongue. Garrett's grip tightens on my wrists, holding me helpless.

I shriek, powerless between the two of them. My legs tremble, my cock aching, but no more than my ribs as I helplessly laugh. I'm breathless with it, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes.

Then Dom moves a little further under my skirts, and I yelp as he pulls my lacy small clothes down. He spreads the mounds of my ass before his mouth is on me, teasing at my hole. My laugh turns to a moan between breaths, and I shudder hard as his tongue traces my entrance.

My legs start to shake for an entirely different reason as he laps at me like he's starving, tongue toying with the string attached to the focuses. But when his tongue pokes into me, my shaking legs turn to water. Garrett holds me up all the same as I let out a long, quivering moan.

Something smooth slides through the gap in my cage, coming to rest against the trapped head of my cock. But the second it touches my skin it starts to vibrate, sending a thrill of sensation through me. I shout, my hips jerking entirely without my permission.

Dom doesn't let up as his tongue explores a little further, pushing a little deeper. "O-oh God," I gasp, my eyes rolling closed as I surrender to them.

Garrett keeps a tight hold of me with one arm even as his fingers find the buttons on the back of my dress. They come undone with ease before Garrett slips the dress off of me. Dom relents just long enough to untie my petticoat and pull it down as well. I'm left with nothing but my corset and my small clothes, and Dom makes quick work of pulling my lacy black panties the rest of the way off.

I had nearly forgotten about the focuses until Dom tugs at the string connecting them. I shout as they slide out of me, one at a time. My legs give out entirely, but Garrett's grip around me is unyielding. I sink against the big man, pleasure singing through me as the focus continues to buzz against my leaking tip.

"Would you look at that," Dom says as he holds the string up. "She charged every last one of them without cumming once." Dom slides back to his feet before he grabs my chin. I can't stop the desperate whimper from breaking past my lips as I meet his eyes through a haze of pleasure. "That's a good girl, Omari," he says, voice pitched to a playful purr. "And good girls deserve a reward, don't they?"

My hips jerk, the buzzing focus doing just enough to tease me, but not nearly enough to finish me off. "Please, Dom! Please take the cage off."

Dom seems to consider it even as Garrett lets out a deep rumble of a laugh. "Not yet," Dom declares at last as he strokes my cheek. I whimper as I lean into his touch, trying to sway him to mercy. It doesn’t work.

His hand glides into my hair, and I let out a surprised shout as his grip tightens before he pulls my head to the side. He kisses my neck, lips hot as a brand, and the part of me that can still form a coherent thought realizes just how formidable of a caster he's become. I'm completely undone by him.

"Because you know what I want to do?" he asks against my neck. "I want to keep the cage on until you cum on my cock."

I'm grateful for Garrett holding me up, because otherwise I think I'd fall to my knees. I've never been able to orgasm from penetration alone, and the thought that I might not get the cage off until I can makes me realize that I'm in for it today. Mastery-worthy spell indeed.

Without warning, I'm swept off my feet. Garrett carries me bridal style over to the bed before laying me down. He joins me on the bed, pinning my wrists over my head. I squirm until Dom settles between my legs, a curved magiline toy in hand. My eyes go wide as he gives Garrett some fresh focuses. They slip down my fingers, and I feel them spark with charge on contact.

"I think she's hungry for it. Aren't you, Omari?" Garrett asks.

I bite back a moan and roll my hips. Begging is not something that comes naturally to me, and Dom knows it. He teases the tip of the rod against my hole, a smirk on his face. It tingles against my skin, and I gasp as my back bows. It makes the tip of the toy slide into me, and Dom eases it in a little further before he pulls it back out. I writhe, but it only takes a few more teasing thrusts before I break.

"Fucking hell, please! I want it!"

"Such crass language," Dom tsks before he slides the rod into me. I arch with a shout, and Dom pulls one of my legs over his shoulder to give him better access. He strokes down my stockings as he presses the curve of the toy right against my prostate. I tug against Garrett's grip, but he holds tight as Dom starts to fuck me with the thing.

It's overwhelming. The feeling of being overpowered combined with the strong tingling of the toy against that knot of pleasure inside me reduces me to a quivering mess. Now that Dom's got a hold of my leg I can't pull it away, can't even try to deny him access to the deepest parts of me. I wail as I arch between them, a string of pleas falling from my lips, a muddled mess of Strae and my native tongue. Incomprehensible save for the desperate need that doesn't require words to convey.

My cock is leaking through the slit at the bottom of the cage by the time Dom finally pulls the toy from me. I'm panting, chest heaving inside of the tight confines of my corset as he smiles down at me. "Are you alright?"

I nod breathlessly, only to yelp when I'm suddenly flipped over. Garrett pulls me up to straddle his waist, moving me like I weigh nothing. He reaches down, and I feel the blunt head of his hard cock slide against my hole. He slicks his cock well before he slowly eases it into me, and fuck me, but he's big. Not long, but his girth more than makes up for it. Not to mention, the piercing through the head of it tickles my insides like nothing else can.

I moan at the stretch, burying my face against his shirt as the focuses on my fingers spark hard. The buzzing focus against my cock has slipped down to press right against my frenulum. It feels like I'm on the very edge of release but just not quite able to reach it. Garrett sinks his full length into me slowly, letting me adjust to the feel of him.

Then Dom grabs my hips, and I feel his cock slide between my spread cheeks. "You know," he murmurs against my back. "Some women can take two cocks."

I gasp as Garrett rolls his hips, embedding himself even deeper as his cock drags against my sweet spot. Then the implication of what Dom just said hits me. The slick tip of his cock nudges at my stretched hole, right beside Garrett’s.

"Oh my God," I gasp, my head swimming. Can I take them both? God knows the last thing I want is to land myself in the infirmary like Dom did.

"Do you want to try?" Dom asks.

What sort of question is that? Of course I do, but Dom must take my silence as hesitation.

“We can slow down or stop any time you need us to,” he assures me, but before he even finishes talking, I breathe a desperate, “Yes!”

Dom smiles against my shoulder before the tip of him slowly, carefully enters me. He doesn’t rush it, and I’m grateful. I don’t think I can handle anything more than this slow, tortuous stretch. My hands fist in Garrett’s shirt as I force myself to relax, letting Dom in deeper. His slicked cock slides in right alongside Garrett's, inch by delicious inch.

I'm trembling by the time his length settles fully inside of me, snug against Garrett’s, my head swimming with the mix of pleasure and pain. Then Garrett rolls his hips in a slow thrust, and I see stars.

I come apart between them. The feel of them both inside of me is just on the edge of what I can handle, and they seem to sense it. Thank God they move slow, setting an alternating pace that never allows me an unfulfilled moment. I cling to Garrett as Dom grabs my hips, holding me anchored to them both as he works his length into me.

The whimpers of pleasure that make it past my lips sound foreign to my own ears. My vision blurs as I surrender to them. I barely feel the focus buzzing against my trapped cock, not with the two of them stretching my hole, though a delicious pressure starts to build all the same. I don’t recognize the sensation, but that only seems fitting. I feel like a stranger to myself, my body reacting in a way I’ve never experienced before.

The pressure builds until it reaches a tipping point. I feel like I’m going to come apart, like I’m going to break. But I don’t.

Instead, the pressure explodes outwards, thrumming through my entire body as my orgasm overtakes me. I scream my pleasure as I cling to Garrett. But where a normal orgasm crests and crests and diminishes, this one continues, a flood of sensation that steals what little coherency I have left.

Dom finds his end first, and I don’t have any more breath left to give as he fills me. My cock leaks through the slit at the bottom of my cage as Garrett gives a final thrust. His groan makes my overwrought nerves sing with pleasure. And after one final thrust, everything goes still except for the muscles of my hole that twitch and spasm, and the last few drops that fall from my trapped cock.

I'm too stunned to move, my mind blank of everything save for the feeling of them softening inside of me, the fizzles of pleasure that continue to shoot through me. Dom kisses my shoulder as he eases out, his fingers fishing for the buzzing focus against my cock. I can't quite stop a whimper as he pulls the little device free.

Garrett seems content to let me keep his cock warm and stays buried to the hilt inside of me. I'm grateful for it. I know it’s not true, but it feels like his thick length is the only thing keeping my rearranged insides from falling out.

Dom brushes my hair aside and kisses the back of my neck. "You're incredible," he murmurs. "You did it."

I give a breathless laugh but can't manage anything more than that. Already, the post-fuck haze creeps over me, making my already dull thoughts even duller. I'm warm and comfortable and filled with a bone-deep contentment that I've never felt before. It's jogged a little bit when Dom asks, "Ready to be a man again?"

I shake my head and nuzzle a little closer to Garrett. "Not yet," I say, my voice emerging as little more than a whisper. "I like being a woman."

Dom chuckles as he strokes my hair gently. Garrett detangles my hands from his shirt and pulls the freshly charged focuses off of my fingers. "Congratulations, Omari. You have more than earned your transmutation mastery."

I chuckle at that as I sink against his broad chest. I feel safe and warm and exhausted. There are thoughts already starting to rattle around in my head about this whole experience, but they can wait. For now, I simply close my eyes and rest.

#

AFTER THE BUSY COUPLE of days, it’s a relief to relax the rest of the night away with Olbric. Once he wakes from his post-fuck doze, I help him undress before Garrett carries him down to the baths.

Garrett doesn’t stay too long - says it’s too hot for him this time of year, but I have a feeling he has some unfinished business with Bridgette to attend to. Before he leaves, he strings six charged focuses onto Olbric’s necklace.

“Congratulations again, Olbric,” Garrett says. “You were incredible.”

Once Garrett’s gone, Olbric leans against my shoulder, that contented smile still playing across his face. He closes one hand around the new spells, and I drape my arms over his shoulder as he lets out a sigh. It’s a long moment before I realize that even though he’s smiling, there are tears in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I ask gently as I brush his hair behind his ear.

He blinks, as if drawing his thoughts back from a million miles away. He wipes his eyes before he looks up at me, still smiling. “Nothing.”

I press my lips to his temple and murmur, “Do you want to talk about it?”

He closes his eyes as he nuzzles against my neck. “Not yet. I need to... sort through it all, first.”

I wrap my arms around him, pulling him close. “I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.”

“I know.”

We manage to grab dinner just before the cooks finish cleaning up. I smile apologetically at Felicity as the plump little baker helps clear away the scarce leftovers. She just chuckles and says, “Less for me to take back.”

We eat before returning to Olbric’s room. I feel tired enough to drop, but Olbric has other plans. He strips my shirt off before pushing me back onto the bed. I thought I might have worn him out today, but I’m happy to be proven wrong.

He sheds his clothes before he kneels over me, kissing me deeply. I return it as I slide my fingers through his hair, savoring our mingled breath.

We move slow, taking our time to map out the shape of one another. Lips and fingers explore familiar territory that’s become no less fulfilling for being known. It’s soft and intimate, and by the time Olbric takes both of us into his hand, I’m quivering with need for him.

He swallows my moan as he strokes us both to completion. When he straightens up and smiles down at me, I feel like the luckiest man alive. I can’t help but cup his cheek and pull him back down, breathing in his satisfied sigh. He scoots down to curl against my chest, his hair pooling around us as I run my fingers down his back.

“I love you,” I murmur.

Saying it still feels so new, but I doubt it’ll ever lose its novelty.

Olbric smiles at me through his mussed hair. “I love you, too.”

My chest fills with warmth. I guess hearing it will never get old, either.

Good Divinings

Divination is a fickle school of magic, but longer periods in the silver have been known to produce longer, more in-depth visions.

Advanced Casting Principles: Divination by Aurelia Laskarsis

––––––––

I WAKE UP JUST AS THE sun is graying the horizon. Olbric is curled into a ball against my side, his breathing deep and even. It’s so warm and comfortable that I just watch him for a moment, letting the sun creep a little further into the sky. When I finally brush a kiss against his temple, he murmurs something unintelligible before falling quiet again. I grin as I slip out of his bed and pull on my discarded clothes.

Galiva’s working the morning shift at the clinic today, which leaves me some time until our casting date this afternoon. For now, I quietly shut the door to Olbric’s room before I head down to the baths. The halls are near empty this early in the morning, but I find Cancassi waiting for me at the top of the stairs.

“Glad to see you’re recovered,” they say. “I missed you yesterday.”

I chuckle as I kiss their cheek. “Missed you too. I didn’t even get to congratulate you on your valiant efforts at the tournament. You put on a hell of a show, Cass.”

“All thanks to that illusion you cast with me,” they say as they beam at me. “But speaking of my valiant efforts, I - ah, overdid it a little.” They look chagrined when they add, “Would you carry me down?”

I catch their lips in a kiss, and they give a squeak as I scoop them into my arms. “It’s the least I can do for the wizard who fought so hard to win me.”

Cancassi’s laughter is bright as bells. “And what’s the most you could do, hmm? Do I get a special reward for being a losing competitor?”

I carefully carry them down the stairs before setting them back onto their feet. “What reward could I offer you, brave wizard?"

Cancassi seems to think about it as they choose the pool in the back and let their dress drop. I offer them a hand, and they take it before stepping carefully into the water with a groan.

"A massage," they say at last. "My leg feels like it's got a hive of angry bees in it after that stunt I pulled against Cecily."

"Gladly,” I say as I strip off my clothes, only to wince when I see a spot of dried blood on my underthings. In all the excitement yesterday, I completely forgot to use one of the little wax sticks Galiva gave me. I'm not looking forward to it but failing to use them isn't going to help me heal any faster.

I bundle my clothes up and toss them aside before I sink into the pool. Cancassi wastes no time in sliding their legs over my lap. Their porcelain skin is smooth as I start to stroke over their thigh, but I'm gentle as I rub around the rough scar that stretches over their hip. Cancassi groans appreciatively as they lean their head back against the wall of the pool.

"How was your night with your champion?" they ask.

I'm glad the heat of the baths hides my blush. "It was fine, I guess. Tried hypnotism for the first time."

Cancassi looks at me in surprise. "Really? With Thaddius?"

"What? Should I not have?"

"Not necessarily," they say with a shrug. "It's just a higher-caliber enchantment method. Letting someone mess with your perception of reality can be risky if they have ill intent. I've never trusted anyone but Ambra to put me into a trance." They stretch their leg out with a groan, sinking further into the water so their white hair floats around them. "I just didn't think you and Thaddius had that kind of rapport."

We don't, but I keep that thought to myself. It wasn't until I was brought out of it that I realized just how deep I'd let Thaddius take me. An uneasy thought crosses my mind.

"He mentioned something about triggering people to do things even when they're not in a trance," I say. "Is...there any way to check to see if he did something like that?"

Part of me wouldn’t put it past him to leave me with something embarrassing or bothersome.

Cancassi chuckles and says, “You need to agree to any post-hypnotic triggers, so you would remember if you had. Hypnotism is a powerful casting method, but you wouldn’t just forget if you’d allowed Thaddius to do something like that."

Something nags at me, but I can’t quite figure out what it is. "Well, that's a relief.”

"Afraid he did something untoward while in there?" Cancassi asks, only to wince when I hit a particularly angry spot on their leg. I let up a little on the pressure, but they shake their head. "By all means, dig in. If I can survive a mastery-worthy beating from Arlon, I can survive your fingers."

I do as asked and massage my knuckles into the knot. "I dunno," I say through a sigh. "It was a weird night and it only got weirder after he brought me out of it."

"What do you mean?"

I shrug. "Well, he cut me loose right after. I didn't even spend the whole night with him."

Cancassi scoffs. "What a way to treat your prize. I would have been a much more grateful champion." I chuckle as they reach under the water to stroke down my thigh, their long fingers grazing temptingly between my legs. "Though let me know if you want to try hypnosis again. Knowing how hard you fall into a spell, I would love to turn you into my mindless pet for a night."

I shiver even as my cock twitches at the thought. "I'll keep that in mind."

#

AFTER LUNCH, I HEAD to my casting room in the divination tower to wait for Galiva. The magiline pillars shine in the center of the room, and I run my hands over them in something like a greeting. They come alive under my touch, dancing with color where my fingers land.

"Let's find something good today, yeah?"

For months, it’s been the sole goal of every diviner in the Crux to search for Diran’s mercenary Isa. Galiva's been able to catch Sight of her, and the mottled, indecipherable figure she’s been Seen with proves two things; that Diran’s non-detection spell is holding strong, and Isa’s still working with him. But other than glimpses of endless golden plains, we haven't been able to get a location more specific than somewhere in the Eastern Reach.

"Talking to your pillars again?"

I turn to see Galiva close the casting room door behind her.

"Can't hurt," I say. "Maybe this time they'll listen."

Galiva chuckles as she drapes her robe over the lone chair in the room. "How are you feeling?"

My face heats. "Fine. Once I remembered to use one, those little wax sticks helped a lot."

Galiva rolls her eyes as she hangs her spell necklace over the back of the chair. "Don't make me administer them for you."

"Hey, I remembered them... eventually," I protest. "Yesterday was a busy day!"

"Yeah? And here I thought you would have spent it lying face down in bed," Galiva teases.

"Rude!" I laugh. Though if yesterday hadn't provided such entertaining alternatives, I might have. "I'll have you know that I was well enough to help with a mastery level transmutation."

Galiva stops to look at me, her shirt half off. "So Olbric got it then?"

I beam at her. "Sure did. His spell worked perfect. Then he conduited for Garrett and me, and Gal, he was incredible."

"Gods, I'm so glad," she says, and I can hear the pride in her voice. "He was a wreck after the tournament. He really needed that win. We'll have to take him out to celebrate."

“I’ll bet he’d like that,” I say and watch as Galiva finishes undressing. She keeps her back to me as she pulls her shirt the rest of the way off before sliding her skirt down her hips. She must feel my gaze because she glances over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

“What?" I ask. "It’s a hell of a view.”

She chuckles and kicks her skirt away before she walks towards me. Even stark naked, she holds herself like a queen. “Well, good thing you’ll get to look all you want.” She trails a finger down my chest as she says, "I feel like I could handle a couple hours today.”

I rest my hands on her hips and can’t help a little shiver of excitement. Usually Galiva’s too tired from the clinic to want to go for more than an hour, but the longer the duration, the better our chances. Not to mention, more time for me to enjoy her. My hands glide around to grab the mounds of her ass as I pull her flush against me.

“You’re sure?”

Galiva leans in to nip at my neck gently. “I’m sure.”

“Two hours?” I ask.

She rests her chin against my chest as she meets my eyes, humming thoughtfully. “Let’s do three with a check-in every hour,” she says even as she grinds against me. Gods, she really is feeling frisky today. “Though I expect to be pampered while I’m in there.”

I chuckle as I tighten my grip on her ass to hold her still. “I think I can manage that. Anything you don’t want me doing?”

“No tickling.”

“As usual,” I tease. “Anything else?”

Galiva thinks about it for a moment and says, “Three hours is a long time for you to be tending to me. You have my permission to take your hands off me from time to time.”

I look at her in surprise. Even after she gained her divination mastery, she would insist her caster kept a hand on her. Ever since that first botched attempt with Margeurite, her trust only extended so far while at the mercy of the silver.

“Are you sure?”

She smiles as she drapes her arms over my shoulders. “I’m sure.”

Pride makes my chest swell as I catch her lips. She’s come a long way from being afraid to go in between the pillars. "I'll take good care of you."

"I know you will."

Truth be told, I’ve been grateful to just cast divination these past few months. Even the idea of going back into the silver makes a little coil of fear tighten in my chest. After trying to contact Virico for information about Diran’s whereabouts, the last thing I want is to run across him in the silver again. Not when memories of the first time still wake me up some nights.

I push the thought away and walk Galiva back until she’s standing between the pillars before my hands slide off her waist to touch the cool stone. Color ripples momentarily under my fingers before the silver washes out of the bottom to spill over her feet. It’s like living water as I guide it up her legs and hips as I kiss her one more time.

The silver pauses at her neck to allow me to finish the kiss, and when I pull away, a haze of pleasure already relaxes her face. I guide it to cover her head and hear her little sigh of contentment as it washes into her mouth to gag her. Her feet leave the floor, suspending her weightlessly, wreathed in the curtain of silver.

I let my hand trail over her waist, just savoring the warmth of her skin. It's been some time since I've had the opportunity to take my time to play around. I pull my watch from my pocket - a yuletide gift from Margeurite and Allisande - and check the time. It feels nice not to have to rush.

I start slow, my hands gently exploring as I trail over her back and shoulders and hips. When I find a tense spot, I take my time to work the muscles out, kneading and rubbing gently. It's a slow sort of worship that I've come to enjoy giving almost as much as receiving.

When I start on her shoulders, she lets out a muffled groan of approval, and I can't help but smile. I like knowing I'm doing something she likes, and after all the time she's been giving to the clinic, she deserves to be pampered.

I'm thorough about it, too. After I work the tension out of her neck and shoulders, I make my way down, focusing on her back and chest. I can’t help but indulge myself a little bit, teasing the mounds of her breasts until her nipples are hard little points. When I circle in front of her, I kiss her chest before I pull one into my mouth, lashing it gently with my tongue.

A muffled whimper makes it past the silver as I soothe the spot with a firm lick before moving onto the other one. Don’t want it to feel left out now, do I? Her walnut skin is warm and soft, and it's easy to lose myself in the sound of her hitching breath, the quiver that the silver can't quite contain.

I let her nipple pop out of my mouth, though the silver keeps it erect and perky. My fingers travel lower, skipping her cunt for now as I kneel to reach her legs and feet. I'm in no hurry and I'll get there soon enough.

I settle in front of her as I massage her thighs, letting my breath tickle her skin. I kiss and lick tantalizingly close to the crux of her legs as I guide them apart. She's unable to stop me, the silver holding her trapped, but I doubt she's too eager to get away. The anticipation is half the fun when you're in the silver. Not knowing what your caster is going to do, how they're going to tease or pleasure you, is enough to drive you mad.

And it's certainly getting to Galiva. I haven't even touched her slit but she's already dripping. The sight is too tempting to resist, and I lean forward to run my tongue up her petals in one long lick.

She lets out a shuddering moan, but I check the time before I get too carried away. I'm a couple minutes over the hour, so I stand up and pull the silver from her mouth to check in.

"Fuck, I'm good. Please don't stop."

I chuckle as I let the silver fill her mouth again. "Wouldn't dream of it," I say even though I know she can't hear me.

I'm all too eager to settle between her legs again, but I'm done teasing now. I plunge my tongue into her and am rewarded with a gasp of surprise. I close my mouth over her, sucking gently as my tongue explores even deeper.

Her body goes taut in the silver as she groans, helpless under me. I relish the power. Outside of the silver, I'm completely in control of her. I can move her however I want, please and deny her to my heart's content. It's a heady feeling, one that makes me redouble my efforts until my tongue makes her squeal.

The silver starts to tingle under my fingers, a warning. I hum and pull away, licking the taste of her from my lips. Galiva lets out a noise of pure disappointment that makes me chuckle.

"Poor thing, we're only halfway through."

My knees are starting to hurt so I stand up and stretch, letting Galiva cool off a bit. I take her arms and gently pose them behind her back before I lean her forward a little. With her legs still spread, the position presents her ass nicely.

I go to the closet and rummage through the various toys before I find the magiline phallus I'm looking for. It starts to vibrate the second I touch it, and I take it and a bottle of lotion back over to Galiva.

After the brief break, she squeaks in surprise when I touch her again. I give her hip a placating pat before I hold the buzzing magiline to her nipple. I tease one perky point and then the other before pushing the mounds of her breasts together. The silver keeps them in place, and I grin as I slide the stone cock between her cleavage, thrusting slowly to let her feel the size and ribbed texture of it.

She moans, and bent over as she is, she can’t help the thin trail of spit that drips from her forced-open mouth. I pull the toy away and give her nipples one last parting pinch before I push the tip of the phallus into her mouth. A pitiful little groan escapes her as I ease it deeper. Saliva drips from her lips, and it must be a special kind of torment not to be able to close her mouth to suck.

When I pull it free and circle behind her, she tenses with anticipation, straining against the silver as she waits to feel where I’ll put the toy. A start of a puddle is forming on the ground between her spread legs, and with how worked up she is, putting it in her slit might be too much too soon. Instead, I slick the phallus with lotion before sliding it against the pucker of her ass.

A groan rattles out of her, and she sags helplessly in the silver as I ease the thick toy into her hole.

“Aww that's not where you wanted it, is it?" I tsk. I pull the phallus out until just the tip is inside of her before gently easing it back in deeper. The vibrations will probably do nothing more than tease her, but that’s just fine. When I check my watch again, I see that we still have an hour left, though time sure goes fast when I’m enjoying myself.

I pull the gag out of her mouth and am greeted by a groaned, "Fucking hell, you're mean.” I chuckle and thrust the toy into her slowly, waiting for her answer. Her moan sounds so nice without the silver muffling it. "F-fuck, please keep going."

I smile as I let the silver gag her again. Final hour, then. Already the pillars have started to skitter with color, but it's not time yet. I'll hold out until the colors dance before I let her have it.

I thrust the phallus deep into her ass before I reach around to rub her clit in firm, circular strokes. Galiva shouts into the gag, her entire body tensing. I can feel how hard she wants to buck her hips against my palm, but the silver stops her from budging. I slip a single finger into her slit, teasing through her petals before I thrust deeper. Galiva squeals just as the silver pulses a warning. I pull my hand away and take a step back to admire my handiwork.

Suspended as she is, Galiva’s like some lewd statue. Her skin shines like weathered brass under the silver, and as tightly as it holds her, it can’t hide the tiny shivers of need that wrack her body. She’s started drooling worse now, creating another puddle next to the one made by her dripping cunt. The magiline phallus is buried deep in her hole, but as I watch, it slowly starts to slip out.

Fucking hell, but she’s a sight.

I circle around in front of her and trace her plump lips with my thumb before pushing it in to explore the inside of her mouth. It must be torture not to be able to even budge her tongue to lick me or stop the trail of spit that drips from her lips. As I do, I reach behind her and grab the base of the toy to thrust it deep.

Galiva shouts, and I chuckle as I let go of her before I pull the chair close to sit. It gives me a good side view, and as the toy starts to inch out of her quivering hole again, I nudge it back in with the tip of my boot.

The sounds of her torment come in a constant stream. A muffled string of whimpers and pleas that I can almost make out as words. It sends a thrill of sadistic pleasure through me to see the regal and composed woman come completely undone under my hands. I can’t help but pull my hard cock from the slit in my trousers and start to stroke myself.

She's beautiful in her misery. Quivering and helpless. I doubt she even knows which way is up by now. Three hours is a long time to endure, and I definitely haven’t taken it easy on her. By now, she’s probably so lost in the silver that she can’t string a thought together. I grin at the thought as I run my thumb over the head of my cock, making my hips twitch.

I keep my hand busy for a while, inching the toy back into her every time she tries to push it out. For a moment, I debate having a little mercy and putting something in her slit but decide against it. I’ll give her something more satisfying than a toy.

My cock is leaking by the time I check my watch and see our time is almost up. The silver shines, the colors in the magiline pillars dancing like the Hobokin sky in winter. It’s time.

I stand and grab Galiva's thighs, making her twitch in surprise. I doubt she has the energy to do much else at this point. Underneath the silver, her skin shines with sweat, her chest heaving.

“Poor thing. Let’s see if I can’t help you out,” I murmur as I pull her hips forward. Her legs fold a little, like she’s kneeling on a floating platform, cunt presented at the perfect height. I tighten my grip on her hips, pulling her straight onto my cock.

She cries out weakly as I sink into her dripping heat, swearing at the feel of her. Gods, with her slit completely flooded she feels incredible. I can’t help but snap my hips forward, driving deep and hard into her. With the toy still in her hole, she feels impossibly tight.

I grip her thighs as I start to fuck her in earnest, setting a hard and fast pace. I’m usually more controlled but fucking hell, three hours is a long time for me too. All I want is to enjoy the fruits of my labor, and with the wet heat of her rippling around me I definitely do.

The colors on the pillars flash bright, and I reach down and rub her clit. "C'mon beautiful, let me see it," I pant as I speed up.

She fights the silver mindlessly, as if she’s afraid I’m going to deny her again. But I wouldn’t dare. Not after all she’s put up with from me.

Her muscles clamp down on me, her whole body going taut before she screams her release. I continue to thrust as the colors spark and crest with the waves of ecstasy that rush through her. It seems to last forever, and only when the colors start to fade do I bury myself deep as I cum hard.

Galiva whimpers as I fill her, the silver giving a last few shimmers of color before falling still. I groan as I pull out of her, a trickle of my seed dripping down her already soaked thighs. It’s too tempting to pass up as I slide my finger through the mixed fluids on her thigh before I push my finger back into her forced-open mouth.

A quiet whimper escapes her, and I chuckle as I let her come down from her high. Experience lets me know that she likes a moment to just float in the bliss, so I get myself cleaned up and tucked away first before tending to her. I put her to rights, straightening her legs and arms out before I touch the pillar and guide her back to her feet.

I uncover her slowly, knowing how jarring it can be to come out after three hours in the silver. The substance slips off of her face, and the post-fuck haze is heavy on her features. She blinks owlishly up at me before a blissful smile spreads over her face.

"I got something on Isa," she says, a shadow of a moan still coloring her voice.

The pleasure high is quickly replaced by excitement. "You did? What was it?"

The silver releases her, and I catch her before her watery legs can give out. She sinks against me as I guide us both into the chair, pulling her onto my lap to wrap my arms tight around her. She chuckles as she nuzzles against my chest.

"Carry me down to Arlon's office, and I'll tell you both."

#

BY THE TIME I HELP Galiva get dressed, she’s more than capable of walking on her own. We head down to Arlon’s office together, but as the post-fuck haze fades, worry creeps onto her face, and I start to get the feeling she didn’t like what she Saw.

When we reach the main floor, I speed up to match her pace, feeling the unspoken urgency. Arlon’s door is closed when we arrive, but he calls us in when I knock. He’s pouring over what looks to be a map, his spectacles low on his nose, but he folds it as we come in and close the door behind us.

“What is it?” he asks, eyebrow raising as I release an abjuration to shield his office. If someone is leaking information out of the Crux, I get a feeling that whatever Galiva Saw isn’t something we want anyone overhearing.

“I know where she is,” Galiva says as she sinks into one of the chairs across his desk. “Or rather, where she’s going to be.”

Arlon pulls his spectacles off as he looks between the two of us. “Isa?”

I beam as I take the seat next to Galiva, my leg bouncing with excitement. It’s been months of searching, but maybe it’s finally paid off.

“She’s going to be at the Eastern Tower this summer,” Galiva says. “I don’t know an exact date, but with that heat, it has to be near the end of summer. My guess is right around the start of Harvest.”

Arlon lets out a long breath as he leans back in his chair. “And what was our wayward mercenary doing at the Eastern Tower?”

Galiva runs a hand over her hair as she leans forward. “I’m not positive. But I watched her walk up the Tower stairs and through the atrium without anyone stopping her. She headed straight down the hall to Demica’s office.”

I know I’ve heard that name, but I can’t think of where. Arlon knows it though, because he leans forward with interest, his elbows rested on his desk, fingers steepled.

“And what business did Isa have with the Grandmaster of the Eastern Tower?”

That’s right. I’d heard it at the tournament, but the memory of Arlon and the King’s conversation is a blur at best.

“She gave Demica a letter,” Galiva says. “The vision broke apart before they said much, but... my sister greeted Isa by name.”

There’s a lot to digest there, but one thought just won’t leave me alone. I peg Galiva with a look.

"So, you have a sister,” I say. In all the time I’ve known her, she’s never so much as mentioned it.

Galiva meets my look evenly. “We don’t speak.”

“Ah.”

Arlon doesn’t look pleased. “How did Demica seem?”

Galiva sighs, frustrated. “Reading her is like trying to read moss on a stone, but... she didn’t look happy that Isa was there.”

Arlon’s eyes dart to the abjuration I’ve put around the office. “Did you get any hint of why they were meeting?”

Galiva shakes her head with a sigh. “No. Isa just walked into her office like she owned the place. Demica seemed to be expecting her, then Isa handed off the letter. The vision faded out just as Demica was going to open it.”

Arlon sighs and rubs his face. “Are there any other details you can remember? A seal on the letter?"

“There was nothing, no,” Galiva says before she shifts anxiously in her chair. “What sort of business would Isa have with her?”

Arlon falls quiet as he mulls the thought over. “I’m not sure,” he says at last. “Margeurite has monthly check-ins with the Tower diviners, and they haven’t reported anything amiss. But ever since Garrett was attacked, we know Diran has been hiding out somewhere in the Eastern Reach. We put the Tower on the lookout for him or any of his associates, so the fact that Demica greeted Isa by name is... troubling.”

Unease twists my stomach. "If Demica knows who Isa is and who she's working with... why the hell wouldn't she report it to you?"

"That's a very important question that I would like an answer to," Arlon rumbles. "But there's always the chance that Demica doesn't know who Isa's working for. Garrett was tricked by her on the road, so who's to say Isa’s not using some false pretense to get an audience?"

Galiva snorts at that. "Demica can smell bullshit from a mile away. Isa’s a common enough Immen name, but a liar knows a liar.”

The resentment in her voice surprises me. Whatever rift exists between Galiva and her sister, it must be a big one.

Arlon sighs wearily. "I know you two have your differences, but I never would have appointed Demica as Grandmaster of the Tower if she wasn't trustworthy.”

It seems like this is an old argument, because Galiva falls into a sullen silence.

“Demica has reported a number of new adepts arriving from Cairish, so the Tower sent an expedited request for their biennial magiline allotment,” Arlon says. “The King approved the early shipment with the caveat that we arrange our own transportation and take a census of their population while out east. I have one more meeting on Monday to hopefully finalize things, but if all goes well, we could have a group leaving for the Tower as early as Wednesday.”

“That journey takes, what, four months?” Galiva asks.

“At best,” Arlon says before he pushes to his feet, as if he can’t stand staying still as he thinks it through. He starts to pace as he says, “Six months at worst.”

“But,” Galiva counters, “if the journey goes well, we could make it to the Tower in time to intercept her.”

“Only if your prediction of her arriving around Harvest is correct,” Arlon points out.

Galiva smirks as she says, “Magic is created on ifs and buts, sir.” Arlon snorts a laugh at that before Galiva adds, “Besides, even if we miss her, we should still be able to get information about why she was there.”

Arlon nods as he thinks it over. He lets out a long sigh before he places his hands on his desk and gives her an appraising look. “How would you feel about leading this expedition out east?”

Galiva’s smile falters before she sits back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “You just want to get me to talk to my sister.”

Arlon chuckles. “In part, but that doesn’t make you any less qualified to lead an assignment of this importance. Transporting something as valuable as magiline comes with no small amount of risk, but if Isa is involved, this whole situation takes on a new level of uncertainty.”

Galiva runs a hand over her hair as she mulls it over. My stomach does a little somersault when she says, “I’ll do it.”

“Good. I should have more details next Wednesday,” Arlon says. “But until then, I don’t want word of this spoken to anyone. I’m going to ask others to join on an individual basis, but I will gather all that agree before departure.”

Arlon doesn’t meet my eye, and the hope that this might finally be my first real assignment dies as quickly as it showed up. Of course Arlon wouldn’t send me on something as important as this. If there’s even a chance that Isa or any other of Diran’s associates might be there, what good would it do to send a wizard who still can’t get through a sparring match with his feet under him?

“Why not just teleport the magiline?” I ask. I know spells exist that can get a person from one spot to another, though the trip isn’t exactly pleasant from what I’ve heard.

“The distance you can teleport is dependent on how big of a load you’re moving,” Arlon says. “You can teleport a person that weighs ten stone across the continent, but the same spell teleporting nearly two tonnes of magiline could reach the High Plains if you’re lucky. Hypothetically, we could use multiple teleportations to get it there, but the problem is we don’t have enough castings of the spell for that.”

“Can’t we just make more?” I ask.

Arlon chuckles and says, “Creating teleportations is... time consuming, which is why few people volunteer to do them. You’d be in Lenear by the time you’d be ready to cast such a spell.”

I nod at that even as it sinks in just how long Galiva will be away. I give a sad smile as I meet her eye, and she must sense where my thoughts have gone. She reaches out and squeezes my hand as she says, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Arlon snorts at that. “You won’t have to wait, Dom. You’re going with her, if you choose.”

My heart seems to stall in my chest. "Seriously?"

Arlon chuckles at my surprise. "I think it would do you good to see what's beyond Straetham. What do you say?"

Excitement seems to restart my heart, and I can’t help the smile that splits my face. When I was a kid, I always imagined what lay beyond Airedale. With all I’ve seen since coming to the Crux, the realization of just how big the world is, I can’t help but want to see it for myself.

"Yes! Absolutely!" I meet Arlon’s smile as I say, "Thank you, Arlon."

Arlon chuckles and says, "Thank me once you're home. I know you’ve been eager for your first assignment, but take it from a Tinari - life on the road is hard. It can be exhilarating and boring and exhausting."

"You're not going to make me change my mind," I say.

Arlon chuckles. "And I don't intend to. We also have a saying that on the roads less traveled is where you can find yourself. As challenging as it can be, it's worth it."

Knots

Not only does magic explore your physical and mental tolerance, but it can also expand your own emotional understanding of yourself.

Magical Philosophy by Namina Kimathi

Please note that this chapter contains mentions of childhood emotional and physical abuse as well as size play and belly bulging.

WHEN I WAKE TO THE clang of second bell, Dom is already gone. He told me he had a divination date with Galiva, so I doubt I’ll see him again until dinner. Which means I'm being left alone with my thoughts, and God knows I'm not ready to face all that yet.

Instead, I get up and get dressed. Cancassi usually goes to sleep around second bell, so if I'm quick, I may be able to catch them. With luck they’ll be willing to stay up a little later for my sake, because if anyone can help me sort through the mess that is my head right now, it's them.

I hurry to their room only to find their door closed. They must have already turned in, and the last thing I want to do is wake them up with something as silly as this. I turn to leave, only to nearly plow right into them.

"Well, good morning to you too," Cancassi says. "If I'd known you'd be awake for breakfast, I would have waited for you." They take one look at me before their lips tug into a frown. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," I say, my courage failing me. "I-I'm sorry, I don't want to keep you from your rest."

Cancassi gives a delicate snort of a laugh. "Like that's stopped you before," they tease before their copper gaze softens. "Seriously, what's wrong?"

I run my hand over my hair. I don't even know where to begin. After years of ignoring the knot in the fundamental tapestry of my being, how does one even begin to unravel it?

Cancassi hums at my wordless answer and slides their arm through mine. They guide me back down the hall towards the main atrium. "How about we go for a ride? I could stand to stay up a little while longer."

I let out a small breath of relief. "Thank you. That sounds great."

Cancassi leads the way into the posterior courtyard and the stables. The horses perk up at the sight of us, a few wandering to the end of their stalls to greet us. Cancassi goes into the tack room and grabs a couple of halters and lead ropes before handing me one.

"Morning, Cass," a voice calls from one of the stalls. Symon the stable hand straightens up, a mucking rake in his hand. "Goin' for a ride?"

"Can't resist on a day like today," Cancassi says. "I'll be sure to have Taratheil and Moravæn back by lunch."

"No hurry," Symon says. “Mo could use the exercise.”

We brush the horses down and tack up in relative quiet, though I hear Cancassi murmuring to Tara in Maevan. I give the white star on Mo’s nose a good scratch before I get the blanket and saddle settled onto his back. Once we get their bridles on, Cancassi and I lead them from the aisle and into the courtyard.

Cancassi uses the mounting block, but they wince all the same as they swing their leg over Tara’s back. The pained expression fades as they get settled, but they don’t miss my look.

“It’s still not happy about the stunt I pulled at the tournament,” they admit.

I chuckle as I mount up. “Was it worth it?”

Cancassi grins. “Absolutely.”

We head out across the drawbridge, nodding to Cecily and Rosemarie on guard duty as we pass. The fields around the Crux are bright with wildflowers this time of year, sparks of color popping up among the tall green grass. The only bald patch is the arena, which has been stripped bare in the aftermath of the tournament. The arena walls are gone, folded back into the earth, and even the turned dirt is starting to show signs of life, little sprouts of green already emerging.

We turn to head towards the forest on the far end of the fields, and I nudge Mo to walk up beside Tara. The feel of the sun against my skin and the steady rock of Mo’s steps do wonders. I take a deep breath and feel some of the tension that’s built in me since my transmutation confirmation release on the exhale. Underneath me, Mo nickers.

“What is it like to be you?” I ask, finally breaking the comfortable silence.

Cancassi glances at me out of the corner of their eye. “You mean what’s it like to be so godsdamned irresistible? Or maybe you’re referring to my extraordinary wit and intelligence. Or my unparalleled sense of fashion, perhaps?”

“I’m more curious about what it’s like to live in delusion,” I tease. The knot of anxiety tightens again, but I force myself to get it out. “No, I mean... what’s it like to be Maeve?”

“Also a rather broad question,” Cancassi points out.

I feel my cheeks heat. “I-I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be rude,” I say. I’ve seen just how many untoward questions Cancassi gets when they’re out and about, and I don’t want to be one of those people. “I mean... what is it like to live in between genders?”

Cancassi hums at that before they finally say, “I don’t.”

I blink in surprise. “I have seen you naked, you know.”

Cancassi chuckles. “You are interpreting gender and sex as the same thing, and they are not.”

For a second, I feel like I did when I was first learning to speak Strae. Like I’ve missed something in translation. “They aren’t?”

“No,” Cancassi says. "Strae is a limited language when talking about such things, but from what I understand, sex refers to what anatomical bits you have, while gender is something more nebulous. A more... internal sense of self and how that internal self interacts with the rest of society."

"You want to talk about limiting? In Cashir, it's the same word for both," I say as I wrap my mind around these new definitions.

"Let me blow your mind further," Cancassi says. "Maeve have only one sex, but we have four genders."

I gape at them. "How does that work?"

"It works because we don't base our gender off of what parts we have like humans tend to," they chuckle. "Since we are anatomically the same, our genders stem from the role we play in child-rearing. Some have a strong instinct to want to carry a child, others have a strong instinct to provide the seed to make that child. Maeve raise our young communally, and there are some who wish to be caretakers but don't necessarily want to have a role in creating a child, and then there are those of us who want no role with childbearing or rearing at all. I exist firmly in the latter."

I'm quiet as I digest all of that. "And does anyone ever... have more than one gender?"

"Of course," Cancassi says. "A combination of two or more genders isn't uncommon. And there is a fluidity between them that allows people the freedom to determine who they really are. I have never needed to explore the spectrum because I have always known."

"It must be nice to be so sure," I say.

Cancassi shrugs. "It can be, but that's not to say there isn't some... cultural baggage to contend with. There is a certain amount of stigma associated with my gender," they admit. "Some think us... irresponsible and selfish. Promiscuous. Sex in Maevan is meant to be for procreation, so those of us who do it for the simple pleasure of it are frowned upon unless it's for the pursuit of magic. Any with magic in our bloodline get an easy out from the usual criticisms."

"Is that why you came here?" I ask.

"In part," they say before their grin turns sly. "But getting to embrace the unapologetic slut I am is why I stay."

I can't help a laugh at that before I fall behind Cancassi and Tara as we reach the trees. We follow a deer path, ducking under leafy branches as Cancassi calls back, "Why do you ask?"

For some reason, not having to look at them seems to help. "I've just... been having some thoughts."

"How unusual!" I laugh and break off a twig from a passing branch to toss at their back, but they don't relent. "Thoughts about what?"

I give Mo’s reins a tug to stop him from snagging a tempting shrub as we pass by it. He flicks his ears back at me, annoyed, but keeps walking. “About... my own gender, I guess.”

Cancassi hums thoughtfully at that. “Do you want to talk about it?”

My hands shake as I rest them on the front of the saddle. Do I? Talking about it means admitting to myself that this feeling I’ve silenced and ignored my whole life is finally breaking free. And it’s terrifying.

“I-I don’t know,” I admit.

Cancassi doesn’t press me, and we continue the ride in silence. I’m so lost in my own thoughts that it’s hard to know how much time passes. There’s a break in the trees, and we emerge into a clearing where a gentle stream trickles down the hill. Cancassi swings off of Tara’s back in one fluid movement only to wince as their bad leg nearly folds when it hits the ground. They straighten before reaching up to pat Tara’s neck as they slip the bridle off the horse’s nose. It hangs over the horn of the saddle before Cancassi loosens her cinch a little.

“Let’s take a break,” they say, and Tara seems all too happy to lower her head to graze on the fresh spring grass.

I dismount and do the same to Mo before letting him loose. Cancassi finds a shady tree to sit under and groans as they sink carefully to the ground. I follow and take a seat beside them to watch the horses contentedly graze.

My thoughts are all too easy to get lost in, but Cancassi brings me back to the present when one long-fingered hand drifts up to scratch my back. I let out a long sigh as I pull my knees to my chest. We're quiet for a long moment before I break the peace.

“When I was just a child, my mother gave my older sister this... beautiful emerald dress for her birthday.” It’s a story I’ve never told anyone, but even just starting it helps the tightness in my chest loosen a little. “I had watched my ama weave the fabric row by row before sewing it together. My sister Samira was overjoyed with it, and I was so jealous of her. I was only five at the time, and I didn't understand why I couldn't have something so beautiful.

“So I snuck into Samira’s room one day, and I tried it on." Even now, twenty years later, I still feel the knot of shame I thought I had long since untangled. I rub my eyes and force myself to continue. "And then my father caught me. That was the first time he ever laid his hand on me, but that beating was nothing compared to seeing Samira’s tears when my father had the dress burned."

Cancassi's hand doesn't still. They continue to trace patterns over my back as they listen. "Boys are taught how to be men from a young age in Cairish, and my father made sure I knew every time I did it wrong. From how I walked to how I talked, it was like I was... broken in his eyes. If I showed too much of an interest in my mother's weavings or my sister's embroidery, I got his hand. If I cried when I was scared or embarrassed, he gave me a different reason to cry. Then, when I was a teenager, I realized that nothing I could do would make him happy, so I started growing my hair out.”

Even now, I still remember the glint of the blade as he grabbed a fistful of my hair. “He came at me with a dagger, but my mother got between us. She wouldn't tolerate him cutting me, so she trimmed my hair herself. But she always kept it just on the long side of acceptable for a man in Cairish."

Cancassi shifts to drape their arms over my shoulders, pressing their chest against my back. "But you’re not a man, are you?"

Hearing it asked in such plain terms sends a jolt through me. That's not exactly it, is it? "But I'm not a woman either." I rub the tears from my eyes and ask, "Is it selfish to want to be both?"

Cancassi kisses my neck. "Of course not," they say. "Especially not when you are both."

I bury my face in my hands, but old habits die hard. It's difficult to allow myself permission to cry, but Cancassi's simple acceptance shatters me. They murmur quiet comforts into my ear as they tighten their arms around me.

"You aren't broken, Olbric."

By the time my tears subside, Mo has come over to investigate. His soft nose sniffs at my shoulder, and I reach up to scratch the star on his face.

"I've never really allowed myself to think about any of this. I'd locked it all away, but yesterday I went into town as a woman with Dom and Garrett and it was... euphoric. I'm not... unhappy as a man, but until yesterday, I'd never felt anything like that."

I can feel Cancassi's smile, their lips pressed against my shoulder. "You've spent a lot of years living afraid," they say. "How wonderful it must feel not to have to hide anymore."

I can't help a small smile as I put my hand over their arm. It does. Like a weight has lifted. I fill my lungs and let it out slowly.

"Thank you, Cass."

Cancassi smiles and tightens their embrace on me. "You are welcome, a'lynn. You are perfect just as you are." They pause before adding, "But if you wore those pattens with the hole worn through the toe on your first feminine foray into town, I will never forgive you."

That startles a laugh free. "You tell me you've seen a pair of lady's slippers in my size, and I'll tell you you're a liar. I've looked everywhere. Not all of us have been blessed with tiny feet."

Cancassi chuckles and squeezes my shoulders before using me to push to their feet. "Then I will have a cobbler make something to suit. You deserve a nice pair of slippers."

I smile and take their offered hand. Mo stands patiently as I tighten his cinch again and settle his bit back into his mouth. I give Cancassi a leg onto Tara before I climb onto Mo.

"Tell me about yesterday," they say as they turn Tara’s nose towards home.

I tell them, and don't leave a detail out. Just as I suspected, they groan with jealousy when I describe the deal I got from Varice. I even tell them some of the spell that happened after, which makes Cancassi groan with jealousy all over again.

"Wonder how many people could fit in you," I hum as we reach the edge of the forest. The Crux comes into view through the trees, towers shining in the midday sun.

Cancassi chuckles, a little breathless. "At least three, but my bet is on four,” they say. "And gods if that doesn't sound better than sleep right now."

"If I can find some volunteers, I bet we could make that happen once you're awake."

"And if you find some volunteers, I am in," they purr.

We make our way back over the drawbridge and take the horses back to the stables. Once we've gotten Tara and Mo taken care of and settled in their stalls with their lunch, we head inside. It's far past Cancassi's usual bedtime, and they yawn as I escort them to their room.

"Will you come wake me if I'm not up by dinnertime?"

I wrap my arm around their waist and press a kiss to their lips. "Of course," I say. "Thank you for everything today, Cass. Sorry to keep you up so late."

Cancassi chuckles. "Today is a day I wouldn't have wanted to miss. I'm happy for you, Olbric."

I kiss them again, a little deeper this time. "Sleep good, a'lynn."

I don't have any casting dates today, which is fine by me. I'm still worn out from my confirmation yesterday, but the talk with Cancassi took it out of me in a very different way. Not to mention the bruises from the tournament are still healing, so if I’m going to spoil Cancassi tonight, I’m happy to have a lazy afternoon.

After grabbing lunch, I go for a soak in the baths before returning to my room. I debate a nap, but seeing all of Varice's fine fabrics has renewed my motivation to work on my own project.

My loom rests against the far wall of my room, though it’s been so long since I’ve worked on it that parts are starting to gather dust. When I left Cairish, I didn’t have more than the pack on my back, so I’d built the thing from scratch. It’s nothing compared to the smooth, polished wood of my mother’s, but it works just as well.

I have about a foot of a magiline cloth woven, but I want to get a couple of yards before I call it done. I originally wanted something big enough that I could cocoon myself in it after a heavy evocation. The smaller wrap I made a few years ago did wonders for aches and pains, but I gave it to Cancassi to help with their leg. Yet after visiting Varice’s shop, I wonder if I could even make a garment out of this.

Magiline is a strange material to work with. It’s finicky, and you have to start with a freshly quarried piece that hasn’t been touched by magic yet. Only then is it soft enough that you can pull the fibers from it, like peeling away hair. The fiber is brittle at first, but it seems to strengthen the more you work with it. By the time you spin the fibers, the resulting threads are stronger than cotton and just as flexible.

I take the shuttle that’s wrapped with magiline thread and continue where I left off, passing the weft through the warp. I tap the new line of thread down with a dowel before I pull the heddle and pass the weft through again. The clay weights tied to the bottom of my warp clank gently, a quiet kind of music that never fails to remind me of home.

I’m at it for some time, adding another couple of inches to my ever-growing weave before there’s a knock on my open door. When I lean back in my chair, I’m a little surprised to see that it’s Arlon.

“Do you have a moment?” he asks.

I groan as I stretch my arms over my head, feeling my back pop. “Of course. I could use a break.”

He comes in and closes the door behind him, but I raise an eyebrow when he releases an abjuration to shield our conversation.

“Something important?” I ask.

Arlon walks over to my loom, and with every step, he seems to take the air out of the room. He reaches out to gently touch the weave I’ve made, and his close proximity makes my heart stutter in my chest. “I was wondering if you feel ready to return to the active list.”

I shake it off as unease twists my stomach. The active list is reserved for people who are willing to take outward assignments, and the last one I did was security at the Black Burrows. It’s been nearly a year since I was overwhelmed outside of the mines, but if the tournament showed me anything, it’s that I’m not as removed from those dark memories as I thought.

“Why?” I ask warily.

Arlon sighs and takes a seat on the edge of my bed even as I scoot my chair around to face him. “Circumstances have made a rather high-risk assignment necessary,” he says, and the unease in my stomach twists tighter. “The Eastern Tower has requested a shipment of some things. I’m gathering a team to make the journey.”

“Oh.” I run my hand over my hair as I think it over, but Arlon isn’t done. “Galiva had a vision that Isa will be at the Eastern Tower this summer. She Saw Isa approach Demica in her office, but the vision didn’t last long enough to know what they were meeting about. I don’t know what’s going on, but I have a bad feeling about it. Which is why I want my best on this trip.”

I scowl and look away. “I’m not your best. Not anymore.”

“Just because Thaddius played dirty with stacked spells to win a tournament doesn’t make him the best,” Arlon scowls before his face softens. “Olbric, you have been at the Crux for what, nearly five years? And in that time, you have had twenty-seven successful assignments. I went back and counted. One failed one doesn’t erase an entire legacy of success.”

My face heats, but I keep my eyes focused on the ground. There’s no denying that the tournament shook me. I’d won my fight with Alix by a fluke. And then Thaddius... it was like being overwhelmed outside of the Black Burrows all over again.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m just... not ready yet.”

Arlon sighs and reaches forward to put his hand on my knee as he asks, “Are you sure?”

I finally raise my eyes enough to look at him. There’s a hint of pleading on his face, and something else that I can’t quite place. I get the feeling he’s not telling me something, but I can’t fathom what.

I toy with the end of my ponytail as I look away. “I’m sure.”

“I understand.” Arlon squeezes my knee gently before letting go. “You know what’s best for you. I’m not going to rush you.”

I let out a small breath. “Thank you.”

“Garrett told me about your final transmutation trial. It took a lot of courage to do what you did.” Arlon reaches into his pocket as he says, “I’m proud of you, Olbric.”

He offers me a green mastery ribbon, and I flush even hotter as I take it. I close it in my hand, holding it like the precious thing it is as I say, “Thanks for letting Dom be a part of it. I... think I would have lost my nerve without him there.”

Arlon’s smile seems a little sad, but I’m not sure why. “I know how much you two have come to rely on one another. But remember that you have strength on your own as well. Those twenty-seven assignments are proof of that.”

I chuckle as I rub my face. “It’ll be twenty-eight soon enough. I just need a little more time.”

Arlon stands and presses a chaste kiss to the top of my head. “And you’ll have it. As much as you need.”

I GET ANOTHER HOUR of weaving in before I wake up Cancassi for dinner. We head into the mess hall together, and after we grab a plate, we join Dom and Galiva at the part of the table they’ve already claimed.

Galiva looks exhausted, and it seems all she can do to lift the spring greens to her mouth.

“Gods, how long did you go for?” Cancassi asks.

“Three hours,” Galiva mutters. “All that after a half-shift at the clinic this morning. So I plan to eat, bathe, and go straight to bed.”

Dom chuckles and kisses her cheek. “Sorry for wearing you out.”

She hums contentedly as she leans against his shoulder. “It was more than worth it.”

I tsk as I flake off a piece of fish. “Then you’re going to miss out on the fun I had planned for Cancassi tonight. They requested at least three people.”

Cancassi beams excitedly even as Galiva groans. “Sorry Cancassi, you’ll just have to be satisfied with two, so long as Dom isn’t also exhausted by all he put me through.”

Dom chuckles, and I see that flash of mischief light in his eye. “I could be convinced. What do you have in mind, Cass?”

“Nothing formal,” they say. “I’m not sure I care if we even get a spell out of it. I just haven’t had sex since the tournament and Olbric got me all hot and bothered talking about his transmutation trial.”

A bit of a blush appears on Dom’s face as he chuckles. “What, trying to break the record Garrett and I set with Olbric?”

Cancassi smirks and makes a show of licking their fork clean with that tempting pink tongue. “I might be. But since Olbric has failed to secure a third, I guess I’ll just have to be satisfied with two.”

“Oh, poor you,” I tease. “You can thank us when you’re still able to walk tomorrow.”

“If I’m able to walk tomorrow, I’ll have to consider that a failure on both of your parts,” Cancassi shoots back.

I can’t help but laugh. “Challenge accepted.”

WE WISH GALIVA GOODNIGHT before we retreat to Cancassi’s room. I had wondered if their bed would be big enough for the three of us, but my fears are unfounded. With me settled between Cancassi’s legs and Dom keeping their bound wrists pinned to the bed, there’s plenty of room.

So long as Cancassi’s bucking and squirming doesn't send one of us flying off, that is.

I smirk up at them as I let their throbbing length pop out of my mouth. Cancassi's naked body is flushed with desire, sweat already shining on their pale skin. Their cunt is dripping, their cock pink, near red at the tip, and so hard it nearly looks painful.

"Please!" Cancassi moans as they tug futilely at Dom's grip. Their slender arms have surprising strength, but with them bound together, Dom can easily hold their wrists with one of his hands, leaving the other free to tug and pinch their nipples to perky, flushed points.

"You're warmed up, but I don't think you're anywhere near ready to take the both of us," I tsk. "For such a wanton little slut, your holes are surprisingly tight. I think we need to loosen them both up a bit."

Cancassi whimpers, and the sound is as sweet as music. Dom gives me a look of pure mischief as he grabs the bag of casting supplies he brought down with his free hand. He upturns it onto the bed, letting Cancassi see the various toys we plan to use. Their eyes go wide as a shudder of anticipation runs through them.

“But first, let’s make sure you keep those holes open to us,” I say as I grab the spreader bar from the foot of the bed. I know from experience how much Cancassi loves being overpowered, and they squeal, legs thrashing as I try to get the leather cuffs fastened above their knee.

It’s not until Dom reaches down and twists their nipples painfully that they finally settle. I manage to fasten the cuffs around their lower thighs, careful of the scar that decorates their hip. Yet when I lengthen the bar to keep their legs spread, they gasp.

“Is that too much?” I ask, but Cancassi is already shaking their head no.

“Don’t you dare stop,” they pant.

Dom chuckles as he sits comfortably back against the headboard, pulling Cancassi to rest between his legs, their back to his chest. He takes their bound wrists and puts them behind his neck, effectively making himself a binding post. Then he reaches around their waist to grab the spreader bar, lifting their legs up to expose them fully to me.

Cancassi moans, their copper eyes shining in the dim light as they watch me. And I make a show of deciding which toy I’m going to start with.

A glass plug, made of marbles of increasing size, catches my eye. The smallest bead at the tip is little bigger than a grape, but the one near the base is nearly as big as an apple. I hum as I pick it up and make sure Cancassi can see me slather every inch of it with lube.

"What do you think, Cass. Can you take it to the hilt?" Dom purrs as he nibbles on the edge of one pointed ear.

Cancassi bites their lip even as they arch invitingly, head thrown back against Dom’s chest. “Guess we’ll find out.”

I smirk as I settle between their legs, gliding the bulbous head of the toy against the pucker of their ass. Cancassi’s cock twitches, a whimper of anticipation escaping them as they writhe against Dom’s chest.

"Ready?" I ask as the tip of the toy enters them, the glass allowing me just a glimpse inside of them. But I expect to get the full view.

"Fucking hell, get on with it!"

I chuckle and ease the next marble into them slowly. Their hole opens to accept it, and they whimper, their eyes fluttering closed as the next one starts to stretch them. They accept every one until I reach the last one near the hilt.

As it presses against their hole, they groan. “W-wait,” they pant, a gloss of sweat shining on their chest and face.

I let them rest for a moment before I ease a marble out only to fuck it into them again slowly. "How does it feel?"

Cancassi arches on Dom's lap, their copper eyes flying open as I fuck into them again. It makes Dom groan and purse his lips as their lithe body grinds against his crotch. He watches the two of us with naked lust, his hands never releasing the bar holding Cancassi's thighs.

"Big," they whimper.

"Think you can take this last one?" I ask.

Cancassi bites their lower lip to stop a moan as I slide two marbles free before easing them back in. The biggest marble teases at their hole, but I wait as they take a deep breath, relaxing back against Dom’s chest before they nod.

I don’t rush it. Last thing I want to do is hurt them as I ease the last marble into them, watching the ring of flesh stretch to accommodate it before the glass ball disappears inside of them. The flared base is large, the transparent glass showing me their pink interior as it settles firmly into place.

"Such an eager hole," I purr as I give the end of the toy a little twist. "Stuffed full now, isn't it?"

Cancassi nods, chest heaving as their hole twitches around the intrusion. Dom releases the bar, letting them set their feet on the bed as he strokes a hand gently over their chest and stomach. I run a finger down their dripping cunt and smirk.

"This one isn't going to be so easily satisfied, I think."

Cancassi moans as they vainly try to close their legs, but Dom chuckles. “Isn’t this what you wanted, Cass?” he asks. “If you can’t take a couple of toys, what makes you think you’ll be able to take us?”

“Because neither of you are the size of a godsdamned horse cock,” they snap before Dom slaps his hand over Cancassi’s mouth to muffle them. They moan prettily under his palm, their eyes rolling with pleasure as he roughly tugs at their nipple.

“No need to be rude about it,” Dom mutters, and I can’t help but laugh as I make my selection. I pick up a new glass toy, a different shape than the last, but certainly no smaller.

Cancassi’s eyes are wide as they watch me, their face flushed pink under Dom’s hand. With a smirk, I slide the ridged phallus down their dripping cunt.

“What do you think, Cass? You think you can dirty all of these?” I ask.

Even with Dom’s hand muffling them, I can still hear a distinct “fuck!” as Cancassi arches against the man. Their copper eyes are wide as they look at the spread of toys, a little daunted.

I chuckle at that before I ease the toy into them. As wet as they are, it goes in smoothly, and with them so spread out, I notice the little bulge the toy makes in their stomach as I settle it deeply. They shout, eyes shooting open as they vainly try to pull their hands down, their trembling legs making the spreader bar clank gently. I draw the toy out before I start to fuck them slowly, letting them feel every inch, every last ridge on the glass phallus.

"Feels big, doesn't it?" I purr. "With your ass stuffed full, your whore cunt is so much tighter."

Cancassi cries out in pleasure, their cock twitching with every thrust. It rests hard against their stomach, the pink head swollen and leaking where it peeks out from their foreskin. Their eyes are clenched shut, chest heaving as they moan and writhe on Dom’s lap.

He keeps a tight hold of them, his hand closed over their mouth as he murmurs sweet filth into their ear. Whatever he says makes Cancassi squirm, and I meet his heated gaze as I slide the toy free.

Cancassi wails, the desperation plain in their voice, but I’m nowhere near done. There are leather phalluses of all shapes and sizes, glass toys with ridges meant to stimulate and tease. And I use all of them. It’s only when I seat a particularly girthy phallus deep into their cunt that Cancassi breaks.

“Please!” they shout, shaking their head free from Dom’s hand, their voice thick with need. Their whole body trembles in Dom’s grip, skin slicked with sweat. “O-oh gods, I can’t take anymore!”

“I hope that’s not true,” I chuckle as I give the phallus a twist. “Because we still haven’t gotten our turn with you.”

Cancassi whimpers as I pull the phallus from their cunt, but it turns to a scream of pleasure as I ease the marbled plug out of their ass. Their hole twitches and gapes at the loss, the folds of their cunt swollen and pink. Their leaking cock juts up temptingly, a thin stream of liquid oozing from the angry tip. They’re more than ready now.

“What a view,” I say.

Dom chuckles and lifts their wrists from behind his neck. He moves them gently, guiding them to kneel up over his lap before he presses on their back to put them on all fours. He lifts their hips to get a look, and Cancassi whimpers, their legs trembling as I unfasten the spreader bar.

“Godsdamn, Olbric,” Dom mutters, and I see Cancassi's already flushed face burn hotter. They gasp as Dom slides a finger over their slit before teasing at their loosened hole.

"Fucking hell, haven't you tormented me enough?" Cancassi pants.

Dom chuckles before he grabs their braid and yanks their head up with a sharp jerk. I swallow their gasp of pain as I catch their lips, and it quickly turns to a moan. Dom slicks his cock before I guide Cancassi to sit back. They groan against my mouth as Dom sinks into their stretched and waiting hole. He's not as big as the plug, but the living pulse and heat of his cock is more satisfying than any toy.

I push Cancassi back to rest against Dom’s chest again before I settle between their legs. It takes a little bit of angling, but their bound wrists fly around my neck as I sink my length into them. Dom rolls his hips in a slow thrust, and I echo him, timing mine so Cancassi is never empty.

It's enough to make Cancassi come apart. Their moans gain a desperate edge, but I know just how much they’ll enjoy the residual soreness they'll feel tomorrow. A reminder of all that we've done.

The delicious friction is enough to make me moan as I sink deep into them, pushing them against Dom's chest so I can catch his lips over Cancassi’s shoulder. Dom groans as he returns the heated kiss, his pace quickening.

After all we’ve put them through, it’s no surprise that Cancassi reaches their end first. They scream as they cum, their cock erupting between us. Their cunt is quick to catch up, and I groan as their tight passage ripples and squeezes around me. Their copper eyes roll, their cunt and ass clamping down on us as their orgasm washes through them.

Dom and I have no mercy as we speed up, chasing our own end. I thrust deep into Cancassi's rippling passage as they draw in a ragged breath only to scream their pleasure again. Dom groans as he grabs Cancassi's waist, burying himself deep as he cums. He clenches his eyes shut, swearing quietly, and the sight of them lost in their pleasure is enough to set me off. I give one last thrust before my orgasm rushes out of me and into Cancassi's waiting heat.

They give a weak cry before going limp, their body shuddering with the aftershocks of pleasure. I stay seated for a while longer, enjoying the feel of them twitching and clenching around me. When I finally do pull out, they whimper prettily before moaning in relief as Dom does the same. Yet he’s kind enough to gently scoop Cancassi’s legs up and lean back to let me see the mess of seed that spills from their reddened and used holes.

Cancassi whimpers as I run a finger down their dripping slit, hips twitching. “No more,” they moan. “I’ll be walking bowlegged for days.”

I chuckle and say, “Or not walking at all if we’ve met our challenge.”

Dom slowly releases Cancassi, letting them stretch out as he unties the ropes from around their wrists.

“Are you alright?" he asks gently.

"Amazing," Cancassi murmurs, barely intelligible. They shift until they're able to curl against Dom's side, already halfway to dozing. I smile as I grab the magiline cloth from their bedside table, and they only make one small noise of protest as I tie it around the scar on their upper thigh. Only then do I wrap my arms around their waist.

We fall asleep like that, all of us too tired to move. At some point in the night I blink awake only to find Cancassi gone. Dom’s breathing is deep and even next to me, his handsome face relaxed in sleep, and for a moment, I just watch him. I'm not about to wake him up to move him, and God knows Cancassi doesn't have need for their bed this time of night.

A strand of auburn hair hangs across his eye, and I’m careful as I brush it aside. He doesn’t even stir, though part of me wishes he would. And even as I think it, I realize what it is that woke me.

I want to tell Dom about what Cancassi and I talked about on our ride, but I’m... nervous.

Nervous that maybe he won’t understand. Nervous that it may change how he feels about me. He fell in love with a man, after all, and I’m... more than that.

I shake the thought away as best as I can before I turn, scooting back until I feel Dom’s warmth against my back. But before my eyes drift closed again, I notice a note left under the dimmed light globe on the bedside table.

'Nice try,' it reads, 'but I can still walk.'

Negotiations

If you have more of a sadistic casting style, there are many ways to use your conduit that do not involve pain. With a little creativity, you can cause just as much suffering with a gentle touch as you can with a cane.

Advanced Casting Principles: Collaring by Felix Kessler

Please note this chapter contains mentions of underage sex trafficking and sex work.

––––––––

THE REST OF THE WEEK passes quietly, and I’m pretty grateful for the break. And with the weather as nice as it is, it’s easy to waste time outside. The transmutation yard under the strange pagoda made of tree trunks becomes my favorite spot to read, especially with Olbric’s head in my lap.

Galiva is busy working with Arlon, and though she doesn’t say as much out loud, I’m sure she’s helping him get things ready for the trip out east. She’s closed-lipped about the details, even in private. Keeps assuring me that Arlon will tell us everything during the meeting next week, but the wait seems to drag.

Monday morning arrives, and as I head to Arlon’s office, I’m at least hoping to get some details about who I’ll be traveling with. Because we’re transporting something as valuable as magiline, I understand the importance of secrecy, but godsdamn, the anticipation is killing me.

Olbric’s obviously coming. As the premier evoker of the Crux, it’s all but a given that Arlon would ask him. And besides, he’s been nearly as distracted as me this week, like something’s weighing on his mind. A few times, I’ve caught him opening his mouth like he wants to say something, only to fall quiet before he gets it out, and I know it has to be about this trip.

There’s only one person who can tell me for sure, and I straighten my collar before I knock on his closed office door.

“Come in, Dominai,” Arlon calls.

I shut the door behind me but blink when I see Arlon seated behind his desk. His salt and pepper hair is styled today, carefully coiffed like it had been at the tournament, his short beard freshly trimmed.

As I go to kneel beside his chair, I see the maps spread across his desk. I sit up a little to try and get a look. These aren't some rough scribbled drawings of forest routes, either. They're intricate and beautifully detailed, depicting what must be the entire continent.

Arlon sees me looking and lifts one map up for me to get a better view. "Ideally, we would be able to take a ship from the Bay of Aeris all the way to Stormhold." He points to the bay that reaches inland just west of Straetham before tracing his finger past the island of Maevan and around the south of the continent to a city located just inside of the Lenear Sea. "But the spring storms prohibit it, and I don’t want us traveling through the Immenbach capitol anyway. So instead, I'm hoping to get us on with a merchant caravan down to Kiali. Then book passage out of the Lenear Sea to reach Hastett."

I frown as I look at the map. "Why not cut across the Hobokins? It would be a more direct route."

Arlon's spectacles rest low on his nose as he looks at me. "Would you want to travel for weeks through the mountains this time of year?"

The spring and early summer storms do make a mess of the roads, which is an annoyance for a single traveler but could be a disaster for a caravan. Not to mention the threat of bandits just waiting to jump on mud-stuck travelers.

"Point taken, sir."

Arlon chuckles and ruffles my hair. "Katarine of the merchant's guild should be arriving any minute. Will you meet her at the gate and escort her here?"

"Yes, sir."

I head down the hall and through the atrium, smiling when I see that the front doors are open to let the fresh spring air in. The trees in the courtyard are in full bloom, and I realize it was around this time last year that I first stepped foot in the Crux. It’s a little strange to realize - a part of me feels like I’ve been here forever, while another part of me can’t believe it’s already been that long.

Iona and Thaddius are on guard duty, and I flush a little as the tall woman smiles at me. Thaddius follows her gaze before grinning slyly at me over his mug of kaffa.

"And there's the errand boy," he says. "What made Arlon let you off your leash today?”

My face gets a little bit hotter, but a flash of anger chases the embarrassment away. After sending me away the night of the tournament, he never did come to check on me, and with how he left me, he damn well should have.

"I had to go to the infirmary because of you."

I'm a little satisfied by how quick that wipes the cocky grin off of Thaddius' face. "Are you serious?"

I nod and cross my arms over my chest. I’m a quick healer, but I still have another week and a half of Galiva's wax sticks to get through.

“Shit, Dom,” Thaddius says. “Are you alright?”

I still have mixed feelings about the night I spent with him, but I doubt there’s anything he can do to fix those now. Maybe if we had stayed the night together and talked about it more it would have helped, but right now it feels like a wound that’s already scabbed over. Talking about it means picking it back open again, and I can tell by the look on his face he doesn’t want that any more than I do.

“It’s fine,” I say. “It’s nothing that won’t heal.”

Thaddius swallows and meets Iona’s disapproving gaze, but he’s saved from answering when a horse and rider approach the drawbridge.

“She’s expected,” I tell them as I head past them to greet her. I take the reins of her horse as the head of the merchant’s guild dismounts.

“It’s good to see you again, Lady Katarine. Thank you for making the trip.”

Katarine offers me a thin smile. “An invitation from the Crux is hard to turn down. Though I sure hope that Grandmaster Arlon has a good reason to pull me away at the start of the trade season.”

“He’s waiting for you in his office,” I say as I hand the reins of her horse off to Thaddius. He takes them without a word, and I’m a little relieved that our conversation has been cut short. “I can escort you.”

“By all means,” she says.

I lead her into the Crux and down the hall to Arlon’s office before I open the door for her. Arlon smiles as he stands to greet her, and it’s only then I realize he’s dressed up a little today, too. Nothing as lavish as what he wore to the tournament, but he’s wearing a cream-colored shirt with enough of a v to show off some of his muscled chest and black trousers underneath his robe. He comes over and takes her hands, pressing a chaste kiss to each of her cheeks.

“It’s a pleasure to see you, Kat,” he says. “Thank you for coming out.”

Katarine looks pleased to see him as she takes the seat he offers. “I do wonder what you need help transporting that is so important you couldn’t mention it in your letter. I even tried to get answers from Bridgette, but she wouldn’t budge.”

Arlon chuckles as he takes a seat behind his desk. Common decorum stops me from kneeling while an outsider to the Crux is present, so I stand at Arlon’s elbow, my hands clasped behind my back.

“With the delicate nature of this situation, I wanted this to be for your ears only,” he says. “We need some assistance in transporting a shipment of magiline to the Eastern Tower.”

Katarine’s eyebrow raises to brush the gray-brown ringlets of her hair. “What kind of assistance?” she asks, voice guarded.

“Just a caravan to fall in with,” Arlon says as he lifts a placating hand. “A couple of carts traveling on their own will warrant suspicion and unwanted attention, but if we fall in with the merchant’s guild, no one will look twice. In exchange, you get six wizards to add to your security force until the waypoint in Kiali.”

“I have mercenaries, and they’re more than enough to protect our normal shipments,” Katarine counters. “The only reason I’d need wizards is if other wizards accost us. Which would only happen if I was carrying something they wanted.” She sits back in her chair as she crosses her arms over her chest. “You see my dilemma here, Arlon. Why not use the royal fleet like you used to?”

“Because the King has revoked those privileges for the time being,” he says through a sigh.

“Ah,” Katarine says. “Let me guess - he’s come to the same conclusion I have. With rogue wizards running around, the cost of dealing with the Crux has suddenly risen.”

Arlon frowns at her, and I can tell that this is not how he wanted this conversation to go. He seems to consider something before he says, “Are you sure your mercenaries are enough to handle the growing threat in the Crags?”

Katarine goes carefully still. “There is no threat in the Crags.”

Arlon tsks. “The late-season caravan that was found slaughtered and cleaned out would indicate otherwise,” he says. “There’s been rumors of an ovisari bandit queen circulating around the southern Hobokins and Crags for some time, but it seems as if Sybarin has been emboldened as of late.”

Katarine’s brown eyes narrow to a glare. “How do you know that name?”

“You can take the Tinari off the road, but news from it still has a way of finding me,” Arlon says with a shrug. “I know you well enough to know that loss hit you hard, and I’m not just talking about your coffers. What’s more, I know that you aren’t certain just how large of a threat Sybarin is going to be this season. Maybe she was satisfied with that haul and has retreated to the mountains. Or maybe it just made her hungry. This caravan is the first of the season, isn’t it? Wouldn’t it be nice to have some extra protection on hand for the sake of your people?”

Katarine lets out a long sigh and rolls her neck until it pops. “Who all knows about this magiline shipment?”

“No one except for my advisers and the wizards who will be escorting it,” he says. “I promise you, we have kept information about this assignment locked down.”

Katarine frowns, arms crossed over her chest, her leg jumping as she thinks it over. “Fine,” she says at last. “Your wizards and up to two carts can hitch on with my caravan. But I’m not doing this for the sake of charity or friendship, Arlon. What can you offer me?”

Arlon looks like he was expecting this. He reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out a cloth sack that jingles tellingly as he drops it onto his desk. My eyes go wide. It looks close to the amount Olbric got from his transmutation spell, and my suspicions are confirmed when Katarine pulls an unmarked gold coin out to examine.

She frowns before she tugs the drawstring on the bag closed. She leaves it on his desk as she sits back, crossing her arms over her chest with an expectant look.

Arlon gives her an appraising look before he leans forward. I recognize the glint in his eyes when he asks, "Is there something other than coin I could offer you?"

A grin quirks the corner of Katarine’s mouth. “You must be desperate.”

“Our assignments have all but dried up over winter, Kat,” Arlon says. “Coin isn’t flowing through the Crux as freely as it used to.”

She looks at him and tilts her head, her expression softening from business to something more playful. "What do you have in mind, Grandmaster?"

Now it’s Arlon’s turn to grin. Slowly, he gets to his feet and moves around to the other side of the desk. He crosses his arms over his chest, displaying all of his masteries clearly on his sleeves as he makes a slow circle behind Katarine.

“Now, what could I offer the woman who pulls the strings of Straetham’s economy?” he muses, a hint of teasing in his voice.

Katarine follows him with her eyes only to close them as his large hands grip her shoulders. A quiet sound of pleasure escapes her as Arlon rubs them. My own go wide as a blush rushes to my face.

“Hmm, I know,” he says, using that playful tone I know all too well. “At the start of the trade season, I bet it feels like you carry the weight of the world on these shoulders, doesn’t it? Being so on top of things, so in control, has to be exhausting after a time."

Katarine sounds a little breathless as she says, “You're not wrong."

Arlon gives a deep chuckle, and even from where I stand, I can see the gooseflesh shiver over Katarine’s light brown skin. He continues to rub her shoulders as he says, “Maybe you would like someone who knows what they’re doing to take control for a moment. Give you some much needed... relief.”

Katarine bites her lip as she melts under his strong hands. “I cleared my afternoon on the off chance you’d be able to provide that."

Arlon presses a soft kiss against the side of her neck. “And if I happen to be free, do we have a deal?”

Katarine shivers. “We have a deal, Grandmaster.”

Arlon chuckles and offers her a hand up. She takes it, and his hand rests against the small of her back as he leads her to the door to the dungeon. He touches the globe at the top of the stairs, and it shines to life. The others lining the staircase follow suit to light the way.

“Go downstairs and get comfortable,” he says. “I’ll be down in just a moment.”

Katarine disappears down the stairs, and Arlon closes the door behind her. He turns only to find me staring at him with wide eyes.

“What?” Arlon asks. I can feel the heat in my face even as I bow. “Speak freely.”

I straighten and rub the back of my neck. “I’m glad that Katarine agreed, sir, but isn’t this... prostitution?”

“I’d prefer it if you called it sex work, and yes, it is,” he says as he gives a huff of a laugh. “Dom, listen. I have a few non-magical clients I will occasionally indulge in exchange for services or favors. It’s not uncommon for the grandmaster of the Crux to leverage sex with powerful people for some benefit. Hell, my predecessor even had a standing arrangement with King Lionel, and gods know I’d pursue that with Thermilious if I thought he had any interest. We are masters of our craft, after all, and there are people outside of the Crux who are willing to pay for the privilege of the experience. But know that it’s not something I do lightly, and it’s not something I do with anyone I don’t want to.”

I swallow and run a hand through my hair. “Right. Of course. I just...”

“Just what?” Arlon asks.

I shake my head. “I don’t know. It just seems... weird.”

“To make sex transactional?” Arlon asks. When I nod, Arlon hums thoughtfully. “Then let me ask you this. When you cast with other wizards, what's the purpose?”

I flush at that. “For magic, I guess.”

“Exactly,” Arlon says. “You’re having sex in exchange for power, which at its core is just a different type of transaction.”

“But it's more than that!" I protest. "Magic happens, but we do it because we enjoy it!”

Arlon chuckles at that as he raises an eyebrow. “And you think I’m not going to enjoy what Katarine and I are about to do?”

I flush even hotter at that as Arlon presses a kiss to the top of my head. "People choose to have sex for hundreds of reasons, Dom, and all of them are valid. But this isn't something I would involve you with even if I thought Katarine would approve.”

He goes to his desk and unlocks the bottom drawer before pulling out a clanking bag of focuses. He hands the bag to me as he says, “In the meantime, I’ve already cataloged these, but I need you to organize them in the storeroom. If I’m not up by the time you finish, you belong to Bridgette until I’ve finished my business with Katarine.”

My face is still hot as I take the bag from him. “Yes, sir.”

Arlon goes to the far end of his office and brushes his hand over the focus that’s sealed into the mortar. The wall opens, revealing the stairs that curve down to the heart of the Crux.

“I’ll lock my office door,” Arlon says. “Anyone who needs to get in has a key.” He takes a ring of keys from his pocket and picks one out before handing them over to me. “I’ll be up in a few hours.”

“Yes, sir,” I say as I take the keys.

He winks at me and locks the door to his office before disappearing down the stairs to the dungeon. I let out a sigh and heft the bag of spells over my shoulder before I head down the stairs to the heart of the Crux. The storeroom is just a little ways down the curving shadowy staircase, so well hidden that I didn’t notice it the first time Arlon brought me here.

As it is, I grab one of the glowing globes from its sconce on the wall and use it to find the keyhole. I unlock the door and push it open to reveal row upon row of gently glowing focuses. They hang in neat strings all around the narrow room. It’s organized by school, caliber and, to an extent, effect, and I set the sack carefully down before I get to work.

It’s slow going. I’ve gotten a knack for reading spells, but every so often, I run across one that’s got a few different energies that trip me up. I’m so focused on the ring in my hand that it takes me a second to realize someone’s behind me. I spin abruptly and the focuses around me pulse bright, as if waiting to react.

“Relax, it’s just me,” Bridgette says, amused.

I let out a breath and run my fingers through my hair. “You scared the hell out of me, ma’am." Truth be told, lit by nothing but the soft glow of magic, the storeroom is a little spooky.

Bridgette chuckles as she steps into the small room, her fingers tracing down the closest strand of spells. “Never seen them do that before,” she says. The strands clank gently as she runs her fingers across them, sending the glowing focuses swaying. “Where’s Arlon?”

I flush and say, “He and Katarine are in the dungeon.”

“Good,” she says. “So they managed to strike a deal for transportation?”

I nod, and even though my face gets hot, I say, “He also said that I... belong to you until he’s finished.”

Bridgette chuckles at that as she steps towards me, cornering me in the small room. Her close proximity makes my pulse sing.

“Well, that’s something I will have to take advantage of once we’re through here,” she says. “But until then.” She reaches down to grab a few focuses from the bag at my feet. “Let’s get to work.”

We work in a comfortable quiet, though Bridgette is far faster at reading spells than I am. When she sees me struggling to identify one, she plucks it from my fingers.

“Primarily evocation with hints of illusion and enchantment,” she says. “Gods know what the effect will be, but I sure wouldn’t want it cast on me.”

I grin at that and hang it under the higher-caliber evocation spells before tying a new row onto the dowel. My conversation with Arlon keeps circling in my head, and I still don’t quite know how to feel about it. I finally manage to muster my courage and say, “Can I ask you a question, ma’am?”

“Of course,” she says as she strings a ring onto the lower-caliber enchantments.

I have to muster myself all over again before I say, “Garrett once told me... what you did before you came to the Crux. Do you ever... do anything like that now?

“You can say the word, you know,” she says, amused. “It wasn’t a great time in my life, but that doesn’t change the fact that I was a sex worker for seven years. And to answer your question - no. I left that life behind when I left Frostcliff. Why do you ask?”

I stretch my arms over my head with a groan before I reach down to grab another handful of focuses. “Arlon’s agreement with Katarine just surprised me, is all. Olbric once told me what practicing magic is like in Cairish. Because of the lack of magiline and security of a place like the Crux, he said that most people resort to that kind of work. I just... never thought wizards in Straetham would do the same when they have other options.”

Bridgette hums at that as she squeezes past me to add a focus to the higher-caliber evocations. “I think there’s a difference when you talk about people who have to resort to selling their bodies and people who choose to do it,” she says at last. “My father sold me to a brothel to pay his debts at the age of sixteen. I didn’t have a choice in the matter, just like the magical folks in Cairish aren’t given much of a choice. Arlon, on the other hand, chooses to sell his services. He’s in a position to be strategic about it and can usually name his price. Add the fact that he’s a wizard, and a damn good one on top of that, makes it something far different than the nights I spent with lonely men in Frostcliff. If you want to talk semantics, he’s more of a courtesan, but no matter what you want to call it, there’s no shame in it.”

I reach down to grab more focuses only to find the bag empty. Bridgette hands me half of what she has in her hand. After a quiet moment, she asks, “Do you think differently of him now that you know?”

I flush at that and shake my head. “No, of course not. Arlon said that people have sex for hundreds of reasons, but... I’ve only ever really done it for the pleasure of it. Even magic has always been secondary. A lucky side-effect.”

Bridgette sounds amused when she says, “You forgetting to put focuses on your conduits proves that.”

I grin ruefully as I say, “Truth be told, earning my abjuration mastery was a total fluke. I didn’t plan that spell I cast with Alix. I just listened to what he needed and acted on it.”

Bridgette hums thoughtfully. “You’re an intuitive kind of wizard, Dom. I think it’s admirable that pleasure is your first thought when it comes to casting. It’s important, and I think too many wizards focus so hard on the magic they’re trying to create that they forget that what we do is supposed to be enjoyable. My husband being one of those people,” she adds with no small hint of annoyance.

I chuckle as I finish hanging my last focus onto the line of enchantments. “But speaking of pleasure,” I say as I hook my finger through the ring of my collar and turn to her. “What can I do for you today, ma’am?”

A slow grin spreads across her face. She trails a finger down my chest to dip under the v of my shirt. “Let’s go find out, shall we?”

#

I SHOULD HAVE ASSUMED that Bridgette’s pleasure would come from my suffering. She has me strip before she ties me to the desk chair beside Arlon's whittling table in his room, so thoroughly that I can do little more than wiggle. A blindfold is secured over my eyes, a ball gag tied tightly into my mouth, and only then does she really get to work.

Her lotion-slicked hands are ever so gentle as she strokes my cock to attention. She’s slow and teasing, massaging my testicles with one hand as her other hand works my shaft. Her warm touch makes pleasure sing through my veins, and I sink into the chair to let her do as she pleases.

But gentle doesn’t necessarily mean kind.

By the third time she nearly brings me to orgasm before gripping tight on my balls to stop it from happening, her attentions have become a torment. I’m a trembling, desperate mess, spit dripping past my gag to land on my chest as I plead incoherently. My thighs strain against the ropes that tie them to the chair, but it's a losing fight to try and thrust into her hand. I’ve been edged before, but this slow and gentle approach is testing my endurance in a way to rival the silver.

Because now, I can hear her, and the gentle whisper of her voice erases every other thought from my head. Her lips brush my ear, making gooseflesh shiver down my neck and shoulders.

“Such a good boy,” she murmurs before she nibbles my earlobe. My cock is hard as a rock under her gentle hand, swollen and leaking. It doesn’t take me long to get to the point of no return, but Bridgette feels me tense. “Not yet, sweet boy,” she says. “You’ve been so very good. Be good for me a little while longer.”

She grips my balls and tugs them down until the feeling diminishes to a throbbing ache. I whimper pitifully, trying to sway her to mercy, but she ignores me as she starts my torment all over again.

“I love seeing you like this, Dom,” she purrs, her hand resuming its firm and steady stroking. “Helpless and desperate. It brings me such pleasure to watch your squirm. I can tell how good this feels, can see how badly you want to finish. But that’s not up to you, is it?”

I shake my head as I sag against the chair, another string of spit dripping onto my chest. I murmur a muffled groan of acceptance around the gag, unintelligible as words, and I can feel Bridgette’s lips grin against my cheek.

“Such a good boy,” she says. “Do you want to please me, Dom?”

I nod, my hands clenching where they’re tied over the back of the chair, keeping my elbows by my ears. She chuckles at my eagerness.

“Then I’m going to keep stroking you, and it’s up to you to tell me when I should stop,” she says. “Just shake your head, and I will take my hand away.”

The gag muffles my swear. It's one thing for her to tease and deny me as she pleases, but it's a different thing entirely to be made to deny myself. I'm not sure if I have the self-control to do it, but I nod my agreement all the same.

Bridgette smiles against my cheek before she starts stroking me again. I groan and roll my hips as far as the ropes will allow, savoring the feel of her hand. All too quickly, my pleasure starts to build. For a second, I'm so lost in it, so eager to chase it to the end, that I nearly forget the game.

Panic jolts me back into myself, and I shake my head frantically for her to stop. For a second, I think I'm too late. I teeter right on the edge of release before Bridgette lets go of my shaft as her other hand tugs my aching testicles down, pinching gently to stop my orgasm. The feeling of being ripped back from the precipice leaves me reeling, my body trembling from head to toe.

"Again," Bridgette purrs. I sob into my gag but nod all the same. If it's her pleasure to do it, I can't deny her. Her firm, warm grip makes quick work of bringing me to the edge again, and I wail as I shake my head, my foot bouncing against the ground, ropes chafing my thighs.

Bridgette chuckles as she releases me and tugs my aching testicles down again. Her fingers brush the head of my oversensitive cock, and I sob pitifully against my gag. Even though I shake my head, silently beg for mercy, she just says, “Once more, sweet boy."

I wail as the torture starts again. Her pace never changes. She's slow and methodical as she strokes me, her fingers tightening every time she rubs over my sensitive and leaking tip. I shout into the gag and frantically shake my head, my arms straining against the ropes.

Bridgette pulls her hand away, denying me once more. Tears of desperation spill from my eyes, soaking my blindfold, and I sag in my ropes as Bridgette cups my cheek.

"Such a good boy," she praises. "So very good."

The gag is loosened from my mouth, and I gasp for breath. "Please, ma'am, please," I beg, my entire body aching for her.

Her finger traces my jaw. She must be sitting in a chair right next to me because I can feel the warmth of her pressed against my side.

"You beg so nicely," she says. "But who's pleasure is most important?"

I shudder and purse my lips to stop the desperate noises that try to break free. "Yours, ma'am."

"And what brings me pleasure?" she asks.

I can't help it this time. I whimper helplessly as I sag against the chair, my voice emerging in a desperate tremor. "M-my suffering."

"That's a good boy," she says as she presses her lips to my cheek. "Do you want to please me one more time, Dom?"

I nod and pray it will sway her to mercy. "Yes, ma'am, please! I'll do anything."

Bridgette chuckles gently. "Then I'm going to let you cum," she says. "But to please me, I'm going to ruin your orgasm."

"Oh nonono, ma'am, please," I beg as I arch as far as the ropes will allow.

Bridgette hushes me as she presses her finger over my lips. "No complaints. What do you say instead?"

I groan miserably and lean back into the chair as I brace myself. I've accidentally had my orgasm ruined a few times when conduiting, but gods know I've never had it done on purpose. I whimper at the delicious cruelty of it even as I say, "Yes, ma'am. Whatever pleases you."

Bridgette slides a few focuses down my cock, and I flinch as they spark and start to charge on contact. "Such a good boy," she praises as her hand starts up again. Except this time, she's no longer teasing. She pumps me expertly, bringing me right to the point of no return. But this time, one more pump pushes me over the edge before she abruptly lets go of me.

My cock empties all the same. I groan in disappointment as the contractions wrack my body, emptying my seed onto my stomach. The lack of stimulation makes my testicles ache and my cock throb, but it's a release devoid of pleasure. In the wake of it, I'm even more randy than I was before.

I sag against the chair with a pitiful moan, my whole body shaking just as the door to Arlon's room opens. I hear the Grandmaster's heavy footfalls before he tsks at the sight of me.

"Are you ruining my fuckboy?"

"I definitely ruined that orgasm," Bridgette says smugly. "I thought I'd get him warmed up for you."

Arlon chuckles and peels up my tear-soaked blindfold. His pupils dilate with lust as I look up at him pleadingly.

"Gods, that face," he says. "You really did a number on him, Bri."

She grins as she meets my eyes. "You're welcome."

I feel like I'm floating halfway out of my body, but my cock twitches all the same as they talk about me. Arlon grins and strips my blindfold off, but he leaves me tied to the chair as he shrugs off his cloak. His hair is mussed compared to how it was this morning, and on his neck, he's sporting a fresh bruise.

"How'd it go with Katarine?" Bridgette asks.

"Very well," Arlon says, an idle smile playing across his lips. "The first caravan of the season leaves Wednesday, and we have permission to hitch on two carts. You hear that, Dom?"

It sends a jolt through me to realize I'm going to be leaving on my first assignment in just two days. I may be floating in conspace, but reality catches up quick when I think of all I have to do to get ready.

"Yes, sir."

"Good boy." He walks back over to me, and my pulse spikes, but he just reaches for my spell necklace. He sorts through them until he finds an illusion that Galiva made with me. "After dinner tomorrow, I want you to come to the dungeon under invisibility. No one can see you, do you understand?"

I look up at him and realize just how serious he is about keeping this a secret, even from folks inside of the Crux. "Yes, sir."

"Farlan and Paulette will have all necessary travel items prepared, so if there's anything else you wish to bring, make sure it's easy to pack," Arlon says. "Have everything you wish to bring with you tomorrow."

"Yes, sir." Tied as I am, I can't bow, so I say, "May I ask a question?"

Arlon grins. "Ask, though I may not be able to answer."

"Can I know who I'll be traveling with?"

Arlon hesitates. It's only a brief pause before he gives a small smile. "You will find out tomorrow night."

I try not to show my disappointment. I understand the need for secrecy, even if I'm really starting to hate it. "Yes, sir," I say, resigned.

Arlon takes the seat next to me that Bridgette vacated. "You know what this trip means, don't you?" He reaches out and brushes a stray hair behind my ear. "You will be free of me for the next few months."

A pang of longing rushes through me. Part of me knew that would be the case, but hearing Arlon say it drives home the fact that this is my last night collared until I get back. I lean into his hand as he strokes my cheek.

"So, Dominai,” he rumbles, “as a going-away treat, you get to decide what we do tonight."

I blink in surprise. In all the months I've been collared by him, he's always taken control of what we do. "Godsdamnit, and I can't even ask you to fuck me because of a stupid, stupid injury," I groan and slump in my chair. Arlon chuckles at that and strokes my hair as he waits for my answer.

Even the innocent touch stokes the fire that Bridgette left smoldering in me. My cock starts to swell again, and I groan as I war with myself, trying to decide what to do. It feels selfish to just ask for my own gratification.

Then an idea hits me. "I want you to leave me unsatisfied tonight.” I meet his surprised look with a crooked grin and say, "I want to leave it like that between us so I can look forward to coming home."

A fond smile softens Arlon’s face as he strokes his fingers through my hair. “Oh, sweet boy,” he murmurs before his grip on my hair tightens as he catches my lips in a breath-stealing kiss. His purr makes dread and excitement coil in my gut. "I'll make sure you miss me while you're gone."

Best Laid Plans

In spite of our best efforts, misunderstandings and disagreements may still arise. It’s important to confront them quickly and directly so resentment does not have a chance to fester.

Magical Philosophy by Namina Kimathi

Please note this chapter contains memories of sexual assault.

I WAKE TO THE SOUND of my lock clicking open. It's a vague sort of awareness. I used to jolt awake every time I heard the noise, but Dom comes to my room so often during the day and night that I've become desensitized to it.

There's a rustle of clothes before his weight slides into bed behind me, his bare skin pressed against mine. I grin as his hard cock slides against my ass, hearing the ragged edge to his breathing, feeling the slight tremble in his arm as it glides around my waist. Ever considerate, he's trying not to wake me, but the feel of his heated skin against mine chases the sleepiness away.

Innocently, I grind back against him, feigning sleep. The barely contained groan of need tells me all I need to know about how his night with Arlon went. I push the pang of jealousy aside when I realize that I really should thank the Grandmaster for leaving my lover so desperate. It makes for a rather nice wake-up call.

I grind again, a little more intentionally, and feel Dom's cock slide into the cleft of my ass. His hand tightens on my waist as something like a growl emerges from his throat. It makes the hairs on my neck stand to attention.

"And a good morning to you, too," I murmur.

Dom buries his face against my shoulders, kissing and nipping gently. "I need you," he says, voice a hoarse whisper. He rolls his hips, letting me feel every inch of his length as it slides against my skin. I bite my lip but can’t help but tease him a little.

“I’m still sleeping,” I say.

Dom lets out an involuntary little sound of anguish. “Olbric, please,” he moans, and I have to admit that I’ve missed the sound of his begging. Since he’s collared me, I’m usually the one doing all the imploring, so I’m going to enjoy drawing this out a bit.

I turn to face him and shiver at the sight. The pupils at the center of his pretty green eyes are dilated, his face already flushed with desire. His hair is still damp from the baths, and I can’t help but admire his self-control. If I had suffered through a night with Arlon and been left unsatisfied, I certainly would have taken care of myself already.

I’m pleased that Dom saved me the honor of it. I love seeing him like this. Wanting and desperate and willing.

“You say you need me?” I purr as I lean forward and nip at his neck. There are a few marks that were certainly not my doing, and I can’t help but close my teeth down on one of them, reclaiming him as my own. “Then prove it.”

Dom groans as he kisses his way down my neck and chest. He tosses the covers aside and pushes me onto my back as he continues the slow trek down, tongue tasting and teeth nipping. The bruises I earned at the tournament still haven’t completely faded but he’s gentle as he kisses around the marks over my ribs.

I groan appreciatively as he nips down my stomach and hips. The little stings of pain make my cock swell, but it jumps as he pushes my legs apart and settles between them, his breath hot on my thigh.

Then his mouth is around me, and I moan as I slide my fingers through his hair. He wastes no time swallowing me, his throat rippling around my length to bring me to full attention. But he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he swallows me deeper, bringing his nose flush against my navel.

“Fuck, this is a hell of a way to wake up,” I moan.

A rumble of a laugh teases my length before he pulls back for a breath, only to descend again. I squirm, face flushed as I savor the feel of his talented tongue.

His arm hooks under my hip before he lifts my leg up over his shoulder. Without pulling his mouth off of me, he fumbles for the bottle of lube I keep on my bedside table. I chuckle at his eagerness as I grab it and hand it over.

His eyes smolder as he looks up at me, and I can’t help but think how nice he looks with his lips wrapped around my cock. But then he pulls back to the tip, tongue swirling around my head, and I realize he looks even better. His lubed finger teases at my hole, and I arch appreciatively as he slips it into me.

I can tell he's desperate. He usually takes his time, but now he fucks me with one finger for only a moment before adding a second. I gasp as he scissors his digits to spread me.

Heat rushes to my face as he adds a third, thrusting slow and steady as he descends on my cock like he’s starving. My hands fly to tangle in his hair as I shout my pleasure, only to groan in disappointment when he lets my cock pop out of his mouth. I pant as I look down at him and am rewarded with his smirk.

“Have I proved it yet?” He teases a finger over the leaking tip of my cock while the ones inside of me twist.

I shiver and arch my hips. “I’d say I’ve been convinced.”

Dom chuckles and slides his fingers free before he grabs my hips and tugs me towards him. His cock pokes at my slick hole, and he pulls my hips up before he thrusts into me in one smooth motion.

I shout at the stretch, my hands flying up to grab his shoulders. Dom doesn't so much as give me a chance to breathe before he's fucking me into the bed, nearly bending me in half as he helps me greet the day. His hips snap against mine, the angle allowing him to thrust hard and deep.

As riled as he’s got me, it doesn't take long for my pleasure to build. The way his cock rams against my prostate with each thrust makes my own jump and leak as my stomach tightens with pleasure.

I try to hold out, prolong it. God knows it drives me wild when he fucks me like this. Primal and desperate, using my hole to chase his own pleasure. But he always brings me along with him, and when he grabs my throbbing length, I'm done for.

I shout as my orgasm overtakes me. I'm so lost in the sensation that I don't notice Dom angle my cock just so. But with how I'm bent, I certainly notice when my own seed spills onto my face. I gasp at the obscenity of it, eyes flying open to meet Dom’s smoldering gaze.

Dom swears as he buries himself deep, and I shout again as his cock empties into me, filling me. I moan as he rolls his hips again before he leans forward to lick some of the seed from my cheek. I shudder, the aftershock of pleasure still racing through me.

"You're filthy," I say as I pant for breath.

Dom chuckles before he kisses me deeply, his tongue still coated in my own seed. And fuck if it doesn’t nearly make me cum all over again. I flush hot only to whimper as his lips pull away.

"How’s it feel to know that you’re a large part of the reason why?" he teases.

He eases out of me, and I shiver, hole twitching and throbbing without him filling it. He leans over the side of the bed to grab his trousers before he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket. He cuddles up beside me as he goes about cleaning my face.

“Like I’ve done a damn good job at corrupting you,” I chuckle and let him at it.

Once we're cleaned up, I turn to curl against his chest with a contented sigh as I settle into the comfortable post-fuck haze. His fingers are gentle as he strokes my hair, peppering kisses along the top of my head.

"You may have found yet another way to get an enchantment out of me," I admit.

"Hmm, next time I make you cum all over your face, I'll be sure to fit you with a ring gag so I can aim for your mouth," he says.

"Filthy," I chuckle. "Absolutely depraved."

Dom slides his arms around me and pulls me close as he plants a kiss against my neck. “I love you,” he murmurs, and I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing those words.

“I love you, too.”

I slip into a comfortable doze, not quite falling back asleep but not quite ready to get up yet either. Dom seems all too content to stay with me, his arm draped over my waist. I don’t muster myself until I’m well and truly ready, and only then because I know I’ll miss breakfast if I stay in bed much longer. Some days it’s nice to indulge in a late start.

We clean ourselves up with the water from my wash basin before getting dressed. Today feels like a day for trousers, yet as I pull them on, I notice Dom watching me in my mirror, a curious look on his face. “What’s wrong?”

Dom shakes his head even as he gets up to retrieve his clothes. “Nothing. Just... wondering what you’re up to tonight.”

“Don’t have anything planned,” I say before peering at him over my shoulder. “Why?”

He fidgets with his shirt, not quite meeting my eye. “No reason,” he says, though just going by his tone, I can tell there definitely is a reason.

“You are still a terrible liar, you know that, right?” I say, amused.

Color flushes his cheeks as he rubs the back of his neck. “You don’t have a thing with Arlon tonight?”

I frown curiously at that. “No... Why would I?”

A distressed little whine emerges from his throat before he cuts it off. “I- fuck, it’s nothing.”

He’s never been one to keep secrets, but the fact that this one involves Arlon makes the jealousy I thought I was over rear its head like a snake. I turn to face him, annoyed. “Just tell me,” I say, exasperated.

Dom looks like a rabbit caught in a trap, all wide-eyed and fidgety. “I can’t,” he says. “I swore not to say a word about it.”

That shuts me up, but then I remember back to a few days ago when Arlon came to my room to ask about returning to the active list. “Is this about the shipment out east?” I ask, even as a knot of unease settles in my stomach.

Dom nods as he looks at me, a painful kind of hope on his face. “You’re going, right?”

The realization hits me all at once. Arlon asked both of us to go on this trip.

Dom said yes.

And I didn’t.

All the implications of what that means hit me at once, and a pit opens in my stomach. It’ll be weeks without him. No - months.

Suddenly, I understand why Arlon was so dodgy when he was telling me about this assignment. The bastard is out of his fucking mind sending Dom on something like this without me. Anger settles hot in the hole left in my stomach, and I push myself to my feet.

“Olbric, wait!” Dom shouts, but I barely hear him as I slam my door open. I head towards the stairs, taking them three at a time. Behind me, Dom calls my name again, but anger makes the blood roar in my ears, drowning him out.

The atrium and the hall to Arlon’s office pass in a blur. His door is closed when I arrive, and when I grab the handle, it’s locked.

“ARLON.”

I pound my fist against it, and Dom catches up to me just as the door opens.

Arlon looks tired, and I can’t help but wonder if he was expecting this. "Not out here," he says before motioning us both into his office.

Inside, it's a wreck. Crates of supplies lay haphazardly across the floor, but I barely see them as I turn my glare onto him. Arlon closes the door behind us before he casts an abjuration to cover his office.

"I’ve changed my mind,” I say, trying to keep my voice even through the anger. “I want to go.”

Arlon shakes his head. "It's too late, Olbric. The roster and rations are set with the caravan. This has been a nightmare to organize. There's no way I can squeeze someone else in at the last minute.”

“If I had known you were sending Dom, I would have said yes!" I shout, my self-control snapping like a weak thread.

Arlon leans against the front of his desk. "And that's exactly why I didn't disclose who I asked to go. I wanted everyone to make the decision for themselves, not for the sake of who else had agreed. With an assignment of this risk, I didn’t want anyone choosing to go for the wrong reasons."

I can’t stop a bitter laugh. “This is such a high-risk assignment and yet you’re sending Dom?”

Beside me, Dom scoffs. “What exactly does that mean?”

I barely hear him. My anger is so focused on Arlon that it’s like the rest of the room doesn’t even exist. “You’d send a wizard that’s useless in a fight on a high-risk assignment like this? To a place you know Diran’s associates are going to be?”

I see a flash of the man's smirk, my breath shortening as his hand tightens around my neck. Even now, I can feel the chafe of the ropes around my wrists, feel his lips against my cheek as that cultured Immen accent purrs into my ear, “You’ll be a fun one to break.”

And then it’s no longer me, but Dom, helpless and terrified. I see it like a premonition, and the image breaks my heart. Fear and anger surge up like a pot bubbling over.

"With how often you fuck him, I thought you cared about him more than that!”

The second the words leave my mouth, I regret them. The shock of images fade as I come crashing back into myself. The silence that follows is oppressive as I finally notice Arlon’s disarrayed office, feel Dom’s presence beside me. And see the Grandmaster’s furious face in front of me.

“Out.”

“Arlon, I-”

“Out.”

He doesn’t yell. Arlon rarely yells, but somehow, I think I’d feel better if he did. That loud, explosive kind of anger, I’m used to. But Arlon is quiet and deadly calm as he points a finger towards the door.

I look at Dom, but he won’t even meet my eye.

Without a word, I flee.

#

OLBRIC ALL BUT RUNS from the room, and I’m too stunned to even consider following him. Never in a million godsdamned years would I talk to Arlon like that. I gape at the Grandmaster, but his anger is gone as quickly as it appeared. He looks exhausted as he brings his hands to his face, groaning as he rubs his eyes.

“That was the last thing I needed today,” he says through a sigh.

“I-I’m sorry.”

Arlon lets his hands drop as he pegs me with a look. "What all did you tell him?"

The hint of accusation in his voice makes me flinch. "Nothing," I say quickly. "I just asked if he had something planned with you tonight. He put the pieces together from there." I can’t quite meet his eye when I say, "I'm sorry, sir. I needed to know if he was coming."

Arlon leans back against his desk with a sigh. "I was afraid something like this might happen. Are you sure you didn't mention anything about the magiline shipment?"

I nod. "Positive."

The quiet stretches between us before Arlon says, "I didn't intend to put you two in this situation, you know. I assumed you would both agree."

I swallow and run my hand over my head. The excitement I'd felt about this trip is gone, and in its place, doubt creeps in.

"Maybe I should back out," I say. "I mean... he's right. I'm going to be useless if it comes to a fight."

Arlon grabs my shoulders and gives me a little shake. "Don't," he says. "Of all the things you will need on this trip, doubt isn't one of them. I would never have picked you for this if I didn't think you were ready.” He sighs and cups my cheek. “Despite what Olbric says, I care about you too much to send you into danger. You know the risks of this journey, and I know you’re as ready as any of us can be for this kind of assignment."

I swallow and try my best to believe him. But knowing that Olbric thinks about me that way stings. Arlon pulls me into a tight embrace before kissing the top of my head. I sigh and lean against him, burying my face against his chest.

He seems content to take a break as we share the quiet moment. I breathe in his scent, realizing yet again how much I'm going to miss him. He's the one person who talks louder than the doubts in my head, and I hope that voice of reason doesn't fade the farther I get from the Crux.

“Are you alright?” he asks after a moment.

I nod. "I should go talk to him.”

Arlon presses another kiss to the top of my head. "Good luck. I'll see you later tonight."

I HIDE MYSELF AWAY in the alcove of the illusion tower, pushing the chair as far into the corner as I can. With a groan, I bury my face in my still-shaking hands. My pulse is racing, and a stress headache is already starting to throb in my left temple.

It had been foolish to think that what happened during the tournament was a fluke. No matter how much I tell myself that I’ve left what happened at the Black Burrows behind, the memories still haunt me. And today was the worst flashback I’ve had in months.

In the time directly after the attack, the memories would hit me when I least expected them. Thaddius’ Immen accent, or the smell of pine, would bring me back there all over again. The fear would bubble up and I’d lash out, just like I lashed out today.

But something about this was different. I’ve only ever relived what I experienced outside of the mine, but I can’t forget the image of Dom that my mind created. Helpless and terrified and... alone. So very alone. The thought chills me, yet no matter how hard I try to shake it off, it lingers like an icy breeze against my neck.

I’m not sure how long I’m there, but Dom finds me all the same. In the year he’s been here, he’s discovered most of my hiding places around the Crux. Besides, I think I chose this spot for a reason. I wanted to be found.

“I’m sorry.”

Dom sighs as he sits on the arm of my chair, squeezing back into the little alcove with me. He's quiet for a moment before he says, "I have a hard enough time dragging myself out of my own doubt. I don't need you putting me down, too."

I hear how hurt he is and wince. "I know. I was surprised and angry and it just... came out wrong. I didn't mean it." I risk a glance up at him. "I just... I have a bad feeling about this, Dom."

He reaches out to stroke my hair, still loose from when I stormed out of my room. I lean into his hand, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

"What kind of feeling?"

"That something terrible is going to happen." I swallow and say, "I-I remembered what happened to me at the Black Burrows except it was you in my place. It was you terrified and helpless and alone, and I just... the idea of something like that happening to you scares the hell out of me."

Dom brushes my hair behind my ear. "I know there are risks, but I'm not going alone. I'll be fine."

I can't stop a small, humorless laugh. "I think I said the same thing to you before I left for the Black Burrows and look what happened."

Dom falls quiet, though his fingers never stop their gentle journey through my hair. I lean into his touch as I let out a shuddering breath.

"I have to do this," he says after a moment. "I need to prove to myself that I'm ready. I need your support, not your misgivings. Believe me, I have enough for the both of us."

I realize a part of me was holding out hope that he would stay, but I should have known better. As kind and gentle as he is, he has a stubborn streak to rival my own.

I grab his hand and pull his fingers to my lips. "Promise me you'll be careful. Promise me you'll come back."

He cups my face before pulling me into a kiss that makes my lips tingle. It's soft and sweet and ends far too quickly.

"I promise."

He says it with such conviction that I can almost believe him.

#

OLBRIC HELPS ME GATHER everything I need for the trip, but it feels like there’s a weight hanging between us the whole time. Like neither of us quite know what else to say to one another.

“Your arrows are all sharpened?” he asks.

“Yup.”

“Did you pack your extra shirt?”

I double check before I say, “Yeah.”

“Got all your small clothes?”

“Definitely,” I chuckle, but it feels forced.

A silence descends again as he hands me every pair of socks I own. I want to say something to break it, but he beats me to it.

“Even if it’s outside of the Crux, you know that you can still sleep with whoever you want to, right?”

For some reason, hearing him say that makes my stomach twist. I abandon my pack on my bed and turn to look at him, but he won’t quite meet my eye. I sigh as I close the distance between us, wrapping my arms around his waist.

“I don’t want you to say that unless you actually mean it,” I murmur. The last thing I want to do is make him feel worse by betraying his trust on this trip.

Olbric closes his eyes before he presses his forehead against mine with a sigh. “I mean it,” he says. When he opens his eyes, he looks at me fondly. “But you have to promise you’ll give me all of the down and dirty details once you get back. None of that coy nonsense you usually pull.”

It helps lighten the mood a little, and I give him a small smile before I press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Deal.”

When it’s time, I release an invisibility spell before I don my pack, sling my bow and quiver over my shoulders, and head down to the dungeon. I take the route towards the baths before taking a sharp right into the hall. The downstairs door to the dungeon is closed, the hall seemingly empty, but I grin when the door appears to open and close on its own. I wait a second longer before I follow.

Inside, the dungeon’s been transformed. All of the casting supplies have been pushed against the wall, and in the center of the room are two wagons with oiled hide stretched over the domed frames that cover them. The larger one is packed full of crates and surrounded by bales of hay and alfalfa as well as a large sack of grain. The smaller one is empty save for a few crates and burlap sacks of what I assume are food rations and barrels of water.

Arlon and Bridgette talk quietly by the stairs while Garrett hefts one last crate into the small cart. Galiva drops her illusion the second before I do. I whistle at the setup before a thought strikes me.

“Wait, how the hell are you going to get these out of here?”

Arlon looks over and chuckles. “I transmuted the carts, but I'll use a teleportation to get them out,” he says just as the door opens and closes again.

Allisande and Margeurite flicker into view as they drop their illusion. The ovisari lets out a happy noise before she pulls me into a hug. I laugh as I return it before she moves on to give Galiva the same treatment.

Allisande kisses my cheek and says, “About time you went on an assignment. Even if we’re not heading into the Hobokins, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather travel with.”

I flush with pleasure at that. Hearing her say it helps the knot of uncertainty in my chest release some. “Thanks, Allis.”

Arlon checks his pocket watch just as the door opens again. We all turn to see who it is, and I can’t help but grin as Alix drops his illusion. He beams at the sight of all of us.

"Thank goodness I’m in good company for this trip,” he says. “Here I was thinking I’d be stuck with someone insufferable like Thaddius for four months.”

“Spoke too soon, Alix.” Thaddius scowls as he lets his illusion drop before closing the door behind him. “Super excited for this trip after that warm welcome.”

Alix laughs before wrapping his arm around Thaddius’ shoulders and dragging him down to ruffle his hair. “And you were breathing so godsdamn loud on the walk down that I realized it had to be you.”

Thaddius snorts as Alix releases him before he runs his fingers to straighten his mussed hair. He catches my eye briefly, and an expression crosses his face that I can’t quite place before he quickly looks away.

I can’t help but admit that I’m a little relieved he’s coming. In spite of how we left things after the tournament, he’s going to be good to have along. He knows his way around a fight. With luck, it won’t come to that, but if it does, those spells that seemed so underhanded when used against folks from the Crux could be devastating against an enemy.

“Good, this is everyone,” Arlon says.

“No Olbric?” Allisande asks. “Usually he jumps on these sorts of assignments.”

Arlon shakes his head. “Not this time.” He casts an abjuration that coats the walls and doors of the dungeon, hemming us in. “Thank you all for coming.”

Everyone falls quiet and moves around to the other side of the carts to listen. “I apologize for the secrecy around this assignment, but with the cargo you will be transporting, I couldn’t risk knowledge of it getting out.”

Alix glances at the carts curiously. “What exactly are we transporting?”

I’m a little surprised that Arlon hadn’t disclosed that to everyone. The Grandmaster goes to the full caravan and lifts the lid of one of the crates. We all crowd around to get a look, and I’m a little surprised to find that it’s... not magiline. Hay lines the inside of the box, cushioning blocks and blocks of what appears to be marble. Then Arlon waves a hand over the stone, and it shimmers, revealing the familiar rainbow shine of magiline.

“I’ve put every crate under illusion,” he says. “But as soon as someone takes one of the pieces out, the illusion will break. This spell should convince anyone who catches a glimpse inside.”

Thaddius whistles. “Didn’t realize we’d be carrying such valuable cargo.”

“Normally, the King allows us to use the royal fleet to transport magiline, but since the incident at the execution, we have lost that privilege,” Arlon says. “Which is why I’m trusting all of you to get this to the Eastern Tower safely.”

He closes the crate and runs a hand through his hair. “I know I’ve told all of you about this, but it bears repeating. Galiva had a vision of Grandmaster Demica speaking to Diran’s associate, Isa. The details of the vision lead us to believe that this meeting will happen in late summer, around the time you are scheduled to arrive at the Eastern Tower. We don’t know what this conversation will entail, nor do we know if Demica realizes who exactly it is that she is dealing with. All we know is that Demica seemed to be familiar with Isa.”

Hearing that sends a chill of unease through me all over again. “Isa’s presence at the Eastern Tower warrants caution, but the forewarning of this vision may be a blessing to us,” Arlon continues. “If we can capture Isa, that brings us one step closer to Diran. At the very least, I would like you all to do what you can to get answers about the nature of Isa’s presence at the Eastern Tower. I hope to the gods this isn’t the case, but if some sort of... arrangement between the eastern wizards and Diran has been made, I want to know about it.”

There are quiet affirmatives all around. Alix and Allisande in particular look grim at the prospect, and I can’t blame them. Out of everyone, they spent the most time in Diran’s cave, and the idea of any of the eastern wizards dealing with him - willingly or not - is troubling.

“Lastly,” Arlon says through a sigh, “I need you all to conduct a census of the Tower’s population. The last magiline allotment shipped to them should have been more than enough to sustain their population for the full two years, even at their most productive. The Treaty of Hastett is clear that their population never exceeds more than half of ours, so if they have recruited more than that, we need to ask for volunteers to come to the Crux.”

Another round of affirmatives rings out. Arlon reaches into his pocket to grab what look to be lockets. He hands one to Margeurite and one to me. Curiously, I flick it open to see a small curl of familiar salt and pepper hair tucked into it.

“Divining trinkets,” Arlon says. “I don’t expect you’ll be able to use them until Kiali, but I’d like for you to check in there, and again when you arrive at the Eastern Tower.” He grins as he adds, “It’s a good thing I’ve got four diviners going on this trip. I’m sure that between all of you, you’ll have no trouble getting news back to me, though if an emergency should arise, I’ve given one of our last sending spells to Galiva.”

I snap the locket closed before I drape it around my neck to hang underneath my spell necklace. “I have made arrangements with Katarine of the merchant’s guild. The first caravan of their trading season leaves first thing in the morning for Kiali. You will be falling in with them under the guise of marble traders.”

Arlon starts to pace as he continues. “The head caravaneer and their security will know who you really are, but most of the other traders will not. I don’t suggest revealing your magic unless you absolutely have to. Keep essential spells on you and out of sight, and for any excess ones, here is an abjuration-reinforced lockbox that you can use for storage,” he says as he pats the heavy box that’s resting on the bed of the small cart.

“The first leg of the trip should take you about forty to fifty days depending on the roads, but I’ve allowed for two whole months to reach the Kiali waypoint. Depending on when you arrive, you may have some down time, and Baroness Qamari has graciously agreed to house you all until your departure date. Galiva has the itinerary with exact dates. From Kiali, the second leg of the trip will be on a caravel called the Shirkkada. You will sail to Laodeiros in Lenear where you’ll have some downtime as the Shirkkada restocks before sailing on to Hastett. The last leg of your journey will be a few days inland to reach the Eastern Tower.”

Hearing it all laid out makes the reality of the trip sink in. This will be the longest I’ve been away from the Crux since I came here. I’m as nervous as I am excited, and I can tell tonight is going to be a hard night to sleep through.

“The return trip will be at your own discretion,” Arlon says. “Because teleportation spells are so damnably hard to make, we don’t have enough of them to get you all home. I will put the one I’m not using in the lockbox and hopefully the Eastern Tower will have another five they can contribute to your return. If not, there is also a purse in the lockbox that you can use to book passage or purchase horses for travel as you need.”

Arlon sighs and rubs his cheek. Keeping an operation like this secret has worn him out, and he looks tired as he falls quiet. “Fucking hell, what am I forgetting?” he mutters.

Bridgette clears her throat before looking pointedly at the two carts. Arlon grins. “Of course.”

He reaches into his pocket and gives Galiva a focus. “I didn’t want anyone seeing these carts leave the Crux, so Katarine has set aside one of her warehouses for us to safely and discreetly teleport them to. Once you arrive at the merchant’s guild, set this on the ground of the warehouse and activate it. I will teleport the carts to your location.”

“Yes, sir,” Galiva says before stringing it onto her necklace.

Arlon looks around at all of us with a small, rather sad smile. “Thank you all for your discretion. I know that this assignment carries unique risks, but I believe we have done everything we can to mitigate them.”

I could swear that his eyes linger on me when he says, “I know that keeping this assignment quiet to friends, lovers, and casting partners hasn’t been easy. If you haven’t told them that you have accepted an assignment, I ask that you do so tonight. But give no details other than the length of time you’ll be away. If they press, send them to me and I will explain what I can.”

Thaddius rubs the back of his neck, and it looks like he’s dreading that conversation. I doubt tonight will be much easier for me, even though Olbric already knows. He seemed... okay after our talk but finding out that he wasn’t coming on this trip was just as much a shock to me. He’s been my constant companion since I came to the Crux and imagining the next few months without him is hard to do.

Arlon snaps me out of my thoughts when he speaks again. “You all will report to Galiva for this trip. She has familiarity with the route you are taking, and as Grandmaster Demica’s sister, I think it is wisest for everyone to defer to her judgment when navigating the situation at the Eastern Tower.” He lets out a long breath before he looks around. “Any questions?”

No one speaks up. Arlon meets every eye, a small smile on his face. “You all are in for a long journey, so I sincerely thank you for your willingness. You will be sorely missed. I’ve already prepared food and water rations, as well as tents, cooking, and other travel gear. You’ve all brought your personal packs?”

There are nods all around, and Arlon motions to the half full cart. “Go ahead and stow your things. I will be sure they get to you safely tomorrow morning. Dom, you’re the early riser, so I will leave it to you to make sure everyone is up and out the door before sunrise. If you can stagger when you leave, that will help keep curious eyes from getting suspicious. Groups of two or less, please.”

There’s one final round of affirmatives before we load our packs into the cart. I deposit my bag and my bow and quiver into the cart before Galiva nudges my shoulder. She’s wearing an excited smile, and I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather be following on my first assignment.

“You ready?”

Doubt tries to rear its ugly head, but I force it back. It still takes me a second to muster the answer, and I let out a long breath before I finally respond.

“I’m ready.”

Apology

Every collared dynamic is different, but one fact remains universal. When you have crossed a line or broken trust, whether as a caster or a conduit, quick rectification is required.

Advanced Casting Principles: Collaring by Felix Kessler

IT’S A CHALLENGE TO cinch myself into my corset on my own, but I manage. It’s not nearly as tight as I like it, but it will have to do. After the emotional upheaval that has been today, it’s comforting to fall into the familiar ritual of getting dressed.

I pull my stockings on next and loop them through my garter belt before I sit in front of my mirror. When I pull the tie from my hair, it falls in loose waves over my shoulders before I brush it to a shine. I don’t use much from my makeup jars, just enough to darken my eyes and lips a little. Yet even without a full face, I still like the way I look.

When I went out with Dom and Garrett, it felt like I was trying to hide behind the disguise of Omari, but right now, I just look like... me. Not quite feminine, not quite masculine, but existing somewhere in between. I tease my hair out a bit, and seeing my reflection, I’m comfortable with it in a way I’ve never been before.

The final touch is my silver collar that I clasp around my neck. Every time I think about the fact that this is mine and Dom’s last night together for... God only knows how long, the knot in my stomach tightens. But I force the misgivings aside.

I can’t let my own dark memories color Dom’s first assignment before he’s even left. It’s not fair to him. Even after our earlier talk, I feel like there’s still plenty I need to apologize for.

I check myself over in the mirror one more time before I go and kneel on the bed. Other than the stockings, I’m naked from the waist down, and I put my hands on the bed behind me. It makes me arch my chest out, an exposed and purposefully submissive pose.

It’s only a few moments later that the lock on the door clicks. My heart flutters nervously even as I spread my legs open a little wider. My hands clench to fists in the covers, but I keep them firmly planted as Dom opens the door.

He has a troubled look on his face, yet the second he catches sight of me, it fades. He grins as he closes the door behind him and walks towards me. His finger brushes the silver collar fastened around my neck.

“What’s all this?” he asks.

“A proper apology,” I say, though I can’t quite meet his eyes. That treacherous part of my mind keeps telling me that this may be the last night I see them. I force the thought aside and continue. “I’m sorry, Dom. I was out of line earlier. I embarrassed you and I insulted Arlon and even worse, I made you doubt yourself when you have no reason to.”

Dom considers me, his thumb gently tracing the bow of my lower lip. I swallow as he tilts my chin up, forcing me to look at him. His intense gaze makes me tremble, and I feel tears well to my eyes as I come undone under his gentle hand.

“I’m just... not used to being on this side of things. I’m not used to being the one left behind.” This wasn’t what I had planned to say, but now that I’ve started, I can’t seem to stop. “I-I never realized how powerless I would feel watching you leave.”

Dom kneels between my spread legs, his hands gentle as he cups my face. In spite of my best efforts, a few tears slide free, but he is quick to brush them away. He pulls me into a kiss so tender that I can’t help but whimper against his lips, though I manage to keep my hands planted on the bed - barely.

He pulls back, and it’s a struggle not to follow him. “I haven’t left yet,” he says, voice a gentle purr. “And I plan to spend tonight fucking the worry right out of you.”

That startles a laugh out of me, and Dom smiles as he brushes the rest of my tears away before catching my lips again. Except this time the gentleness is gone, replaced by a desperate sort of heat that steals my breath away. I gasp at the intensity of it, my head swimming as he plunders my mouth.

Then his hand wraps over my collar before he pushes me onto the bed. I yelp as I'm forced back, my knees still folded into their kneel. The stretch burns through my thighs, and I moan as he brings his lips to mine again.

I’m panting by the time he pulls away, my aching legs starting to protest the angle. Even so, I don’t dare move. Dom kneels up, and it’s the caster who looks down at me, considering.

“What do you want, Olbric?” he asks.

I tremble under his gaze. “I-I want to be punished. I deserve to be punished.”

He gives me a considering look before he stands. He grabs the chair in front of my loom and drags it to the center of the room. It creaks as he sits before he motions me over with a finger.

“Then come here, beautiful.”

Any other night I’d have him make me, but not tonight. Tonight, I want to do everything I can to please him.

As I approach, he hooks his finger through the ring on my collar before he pulls me over his lap. He pushes me down so my chest is resting against his thighs. Without warning, his hand cracks across my ass in a stinging slap. I yelp as the pain and pleasure race across my nerves.

Dom’s hand gentles as he strokes over the mounds of my ass. “Think I should leave you with some welts to remember me by?”

I must answer too slowly, because he cracks another sharp slap against my skin. I yelp and grip the side of the chair for stability. My answer emerges in a gasp. “Yes!”

Dom chuckles as his fingers tease over my exposed ass before dipping down to spread my legs further apart.

“Good girl,” he purrs. “Now the question is, how many spanks do you think your behavior has earned you?”

I shiver at the heat in his voice. Remembering the confrontation in Arlon’s office makes me wince, the pit of guilt roiling in my stomach. "I-I don’t know.”

He hums thoughtfully as his hand slides through my hair. He wraps the long locks around his fist before pulling tight. I'm forced to arch, hands braced on his thigh. He makes me look at him as he says, "I want to see your face. I want to see how sorry you are."

The strike catches me by surprise, hot and hard against my left cheek. I yelp, but Dom is quick to follow it with another. The blows rain down without pause, each strike landing with a stinging crack. I jerk with every one, squirming on his lap as the pain makes my cock harden against his thighs.

Yet each strike feels earned. I suffer and savor the punishment as my ass starts to burn hot, skin reddening under his hand. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but Dom doesn't stop. I take the punishment without complaint, and the pain feels like absolution.

When Dom's hand gets tired, he releases my hair and strokes over my pain-reddened skin. It wrings a whimper out of me as my nerves flash hot.

"Do you think you've been punished enough?" he asks.

I shake my hanging head as a few tears slide free. "Not yet."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dom reach over and grab the long, flat piece of wood I use to tamp the strings of my loom down. He tests the weight of it before he cracks it against my already stinging ass. I yelp and arch, but his hand catches me around the throat, forcing me to look up at him again. He constricts gently, shortening my breath.

The pain of it is sharper than his hand, more direct. I can feel the welts raise on my skin after every controlled strike. Only when my head starts to swim does he loosen his grip on my neck. I barely get a chance to draw in a breath before it’s forced out on a shout as the tamper cracks against my ass again. My tears come faster, my eyes clenched shut against the pain, but I can feel Dom watching me as he lands a particularly hard stroke across my cheeks. I wail, braced and ready for the next one, but it never comes.

"More, Dom. Please," I gasp, my voice emerging in a whisper.

"No, love," he says, and the tenderness in his voice breaks me. "You've been punished enough."

I start to cry as he helps me to my feet, strong arms supporting me. He helps me over to the bed before he lays down, pulling me on top of him to give my abused ass a break. I cling to his shirt as the torrent of emotions breaks loose. It’s a rare time I let my guard down like this, but Dom seems to have a talent for making me feel safe enough to do it. He holds me tightly, stroking my hair and back as I cry against his chest.

All the while, he whispers into my ear. “All is forgiven, love,” he says. “I wish it hadn’t worked out like this.” I bury my face against his shirt even as I feel his breath hitch. He tightens his arms around me, holding me like he doesn’t want to let go. “I’m going to miss you so, so much.”

Slowly, the wave of emotions passes, and I'm left floating in the aftermath of pain. I lean up to kiss along his neck and jaw before I find his lips. Dom sighs as he returns the kiss, but when I pull away, he looks a little worried.

"Are you alright?" he asks gently. His hand brushes the welts on my ass, and I arch with a groan of pleasure.

"I feel a lot better," I admit. After a day of making myself sick with worry and guilt, he took care of me. He forced me to redirect my attention while simultaneously absolving me of some of my guilt. I still need to apologize to Arlon, but for now, I feel... light, weightless in the aftermath of the punishment I earned. "Thank you, Dom."

Dom smiles before he shifts us gently so he can pull me into another kiss. I melt against him, too blissed out to worry about anything beyond the feel of his lips against mine. He strokes down my back before he grabs the mounds of my ass and squeezes gently.

Pain sparks from the fresh welts, and I moan against him as he spreads my cheeks. My hands fist in his shirt as he teases at my entrance, fingers stopping just shy of pushing in. I arch and try to wiggle back, but Dom pulls his hand away to grab the little bottle of lube from my bedside table. He coats his fingers, and I shudder as they tease at the sensitive ring of flesh. He just barely pushes into me, his slick fingertips gently stretching and stroking. The teasing pleasure sets fire to every nerve, but when I try to push back to take more of him, he grabs my beaten ass to stop me.

“Dom, please,” I gasp. “I need you.” I rock vainly against him, my cock brushing against the soft fabric of his trousers and shirt as it hardens again.

He chuckles as he pushes me up to straddle him before reaching down to grab my length. I shiver as his lotion-slicked hand starts to stroke me.

“Not yet, beautiful,” he says. “I want to see you fuck yourself on my fingers.”

He presses two fingers into me, and I moan as I sink back onto them. My hands brace against his chest as I start to ride his fingers, thrusting down onto them. They stroke inside of me, sending gooseflesh over my skin as he hits my prostate. My cock twitches and starts to leak under the stimulation, and Dom does nothing to help that as he pumps my length in long, slow strokes.

Even with him under me, I’m powerless against him. He holds me trapped between his hands as he slides a third finger into me, spreading me wide. His firm grip never leaves my cock, though my hips jerk every time he rolls his thumb over my sensitive tip.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, and I shudder as he slides his fingers free. He grabs my hips, angling me just so before he pushes me back onto his erect cock. I moan at the stretch, my hole twitching around him, but Dom doesn’t move. He just lets me warm his cock as he resumes leisurely stroking mine.

The feel of him inside of me is almost enough to set me off, yet when I try to thrust down, he grabs my hip to still me.

“Dom, please!”

He chuckles, and when I open my eyes, I see him watching me, almost reverent. “Godsdamn, I could watch you like this forever,” he murmurs as his thumb traces over the slit at the end of my cock. “I love you like this.”

My hips jerk entirely without my permission. I bite back a groan, but it takes me a second longer to muster my courage. It’s failed me all week, but I can’t let him leave without telling him.

“Would you still love me if I told you that... I’m not a man?” I ask. “At least... not all of the time. Not entirely.”

It’s like he can sense the weight of what I’ve just asked. He’s quiet for a moment, and I feel my heart skip a beat as I wait for him to respond. I’ve bared myself to him in so many ways, but never like this. My hips still, as does his hand, and I quiver under his gaze.

Then, he smiles, and I feel my ribs unlock, allowing me to draw in a breath once more.

“I love you for who you are,” he says. “Nothing is going to change that.”

I lean down to kiss him, pouring my love and gratitude into the touch. When we break for a breath, he reaches up to brush a strand of hair behind my ear.

“What do you want me to call you? Olbric? Omari? Something else?”

I can’t stop a small laugh when I realize I haven’t actually thought that far ahead. “Olbric,” I say at last. “That’s the name I chose when I came here, and it still suits. I realize that I... dress to reflect how I’m feeling. Call me he or she, and I’ll be happy either way.”

Dom looks up at me with those kind green eyes, and I melt all over again at the love and understanding I find in them. “Thank you for telling me, Olbric,” he says. “I’m glad to know you - all of you.”

I flush with pleasure, only to gasp when he rolls his hips. I shiver at the feel of his cock still sheathed inside of me, my welted backside resting against his waist. I groan and rock my hips with his next thrust, moving with him in delicious harmony.

He grabs my hips to help me as we speed up. Every time I bounce against his lap, the memory of pain fizzles from my abused ass, making me all the more randy for it. I moan as he thrusts deep into me, making my vision spark when his length rubs over that bundle of nerves inside of me. Then his hand wraps around my cock again, stroking in time with his thrusts, and I come undone.

I shout as the pleasure washes out of me, erupting over his hand and onto his shirt. He moans, and I feel his cock twitch inside of me, but when I look down, his face is scrunched in concentration. He lets out a long breath as he gets himself under control before he meets my eyes with a smirk.

Good God, he didn’t finish.

“I said I was going to fuck the worry out of you, and we’re not done yet.”

He lurches up without warning. I topple back onto the bed, and before I can even catch up, he thrusts into me hard and deep. Every snap of his hips sends shocks of sensation over my abused skin, but I shout my gratitude as I grab the sheets to anchor myself. His thrusts make my soft cock twitch and jump, but soon enough it starts to harden again.

When Dom grabs my length, I’m afraid the sensation is going make me come apart at the seams. The feel of him reaching so deep, the warmth of his hand around my oversensitive length, the delicious friction of my ass against the sheets of my bed - it’s almost too much. I scream as I cum again, but this time my cock only releases a dribble of seed onto my chest.

Yet he still isn’t done.

I whimper as he pulls out of my sore hole before he finally discards his half-shed clothes. He grabs my legs and yanks me towards the edge of the bed before he flips me onto my stomach. I feel the hard tip of his cock prod at my ruined hole before he thrusts in again, stealing my breath away.

“F-fuck!” I gasp and bite down on the sheet to stop myself from waking the whole Goddamn evocation tower. Dom doesn’t help me as he delivers a playful slap to my abused ass, making me scream into the sheets, my head swimming from the pleasure and pain. I’m laid flat by the rough fucking, but God damn, if it’s not exactly the way I like it.

Dom’s hand snakes around my throat, pulling me up as he thrusts deep. I’m helpless against him, but I can’t imagine wanting this to stop. He bites down on my shoulder, teeth leaving indents in my skin as he marks me. His firm grip around my throat makes me feel lightheaded as he sucks hard, making a bruise pop. He soothes it with his tongue a moment later, though he never so much as slows his deep, relentless thrusts.

“I’m going to miss this hole,” he growls, making the hairs of my neck stand on end. “I’m going to miss this cock.” He reaches around, grabbing my length that has somehow hardened again. “I’m going to miss the sound you make when you cum. The sound of your laughter. I’m going to miss the way you talk in your sleep. I’m going to miss every single part of you.”

Each statement is accentuated by a deep thrust, and I feel the pleasure building once again. I can’t find the words to answer him, can’t string my thoughts together enough to reply. I reach back to grab the back of his head, my body tensing as the wave crests again, stunning me with the intensity of it.

I let out a choked cry of bliss as Dom buries himself deep. His cock swells before he fills me, sending a fresh wave of sensation through my well-worked hole. I draw in a shuddering breath before letting it out in a long, low moan.

Dom pants against my back, and I shudder as he pulls out of me. A trail of his seed follows, sliding down between my legs, but I couldn’t care less. Neither could he, apparently, because he simply maneuvers me back onto the bed before cuddling in behind me. His arm drapes around my waist to hold me close.

I’m sticky with sweat and cum, but I’m too Goddamn tired to do anything about it. I float in the haze of pleasure, so satisfied and tired that I can’t think about anything but the feel of his warm body pressed against mine.

Dom made good on his promise. On our last night together, I never imagined it would be this easy to close my eyes and sleep.

Departure

Long periods of chastity are required to create higher-power conjurations, which can seem like a daunting undertaking for some. Others, however, may relish the denial.

Fundamentals of Magic by Eroland Lockhart

––––––––

I WAKE BEFORE DAWN with my arm still around Olbric’s waist. I’m so warm and comfortable that it’s hard to will myself to move. For a long moment, I don’t. Instead, I breathe in Olbric’s unique scent, trying to ingrain it into my memory.

The sky starts to glow on the horizon, and I know I can’t linger any longer. Doubt nags at me, but I force it aside as I pull my arm from around Olbric’s waist. He stirs, rolling onto his back before he smiles blearily up at me.

“You should go back to sleep,” I whisper as I tuck a tangled strand of hair behind his ear.

He nods even as he reaches a hand up to stroke my face. “Please be safe. Please come back soon.”

I turn to press a kiss against his palm before I lean down and catch his lips. “I will. I promise.” I stroke his cheek, my chest aching. I’m going to miss him so much. “I love you.”

He smiles, and it’s like he just can’t help but get one last taste. He grabs my head to pull me down again, his tongue gliding between my lips. I sigh into the kiss as I return it, feeling a pang of longing rush through me. He pulls away far too soon.

“I love you, too,” he says. “You better get going. You’re going to be late.”

I’m not ready to leave yet, but he’s right. I don my soiled shirt and wrinkled trousers before I steal one more kiss. “I’ll see you in a few months.”

“Safe travels, love.”

Closing his door behind me is harder than I ever imagined it would be. Gods, how I wish this had worked out differently. I can only imagine that the nagging doubt whispering at me would be a little quieter if Olbric were coming too.

I let out a long sigh and shake it off as best as I can as I head to the divination tower. I swing by my room for a change of clothes before I pad down to the baths for a quick rinse.

Cancassi is waiting for me at the top of the stairs, a towel draped over their arm. I had hoped to find them this morning so I could tell them myself, but as I open my mouth, they hold up a hand to stop me.

“Galiva and Alix both told me last night,” they say. “Can’t believe Arlon is sending all but two of my casting partners on this mystery quest.”

They drape their arms around my neck, and I obligingly pick them up to carry them down the stairs. They’re tense, full of a kind of nervous energy that seems out of place in the normally calm Maeve. I know how close they have gotten with Alix these past few months, so losing him as well as me and Galiva is as much of a blow to their casting circle as it is to Olbric’s.

Once we reach the landing, I kiss their cheek as I set them down. “Are you alright?”

Cancassi gives a huff of a sigh. “Oh, fine, I suppose. Just... miffed that I wasn’t given more than an evening’s warning before you all fuck off to gods only know where.”

“Will it help if I tell you there’s a good reason for the secrecy?” I ask as I strip my shirt off.

“Hardly,” they say with a scoff. They let their robe drop and descend into the pool. “Arlon asked me, you know. And like a fool, I said no.”

“Seems like you and Olbric are in the same boat then,” I say as I slip into the water with them. “He’s feeling equally sorry he didn’t agree.”

“Though it’s a good thing he didn’t! Or else I’d only have Ambra to cast with, and that girl will have turned my mind to mush with enchantment by the time you’re all back,” they say indignantly.

I chuckle before I glide over to Cancassi and wrap my arms around them. They let out a long breath, and only then do they relax against me.

“I’m going to miss you all. Very much,” they say quietly.

I press a kiss to the side of their head. “I’m going to miss you, too.”

We soak in the comfort of each other’s company for a long moment. They bathe me gently with a soft cloth and soap, and I do the same to them as I run my fingers through their hair. It makes my chest tighten when I realize this is the last time I’ll be doing this for a few long months, too. I’m going to miss these quiet mornings.

Cancassi finally breaks the comfortable silence. “Take care of all of them, will you?”

I tighten my embrace before tilting Cancassi’s face up to catch their lips. “I’ll do my best.”

#

I BID CANCASSI A GOOD rest before I head towards the mess hall. Galiva is already awake, an empty bowl of porridge in front of her. She smiles as I approach, raising a cup of kaffa in greeting.

"Did you sleep at all last night?" I ask, eyeing the rather large cup of the black drink she's nursing. I take a seat next to her and set down my breakfast.

"Some," she says. "I'm just ready to get on the road."

"Excited to see your family?"

"My parents, absolutely," she says with a grin. "I think you'll like Kiali."

A flicker of excitement sparks back to life. "I've never been on a boat before," I admit. "Let alone seen the sea."

Galiva smiles and nudges my shoulder. "I can't wait to show you."

I make it through my bowl of porridge before I can't keep it in anymore. "Can I ask why you and your sister don't speak?"

Galiva lets out a sigh before she takes a sip from her cup. "We've never really gotten along. She's seven years older than me and somehow thinks that's an excuse to still treat me like a child. Not to mention, she has my parents’ ears on some important matters and makes it a point to keep me in the dark.”

I frown at that. "What kind of matters?"

“Finances, the estate, their health," she says, frowning into her cup. "You know, things I’d like to be kept up to date on, but Demica’s convinced my parents that those things aren’t something a younger daughter needs to worry about.” She lets out a long sigh. “Ever since the storm hit, they’ve shut down even worse than before. Every letter is ‘everything’s peachy’ and ‘nothing to worry about,’ and it’s, well, worrying.”

I blink. "Wait, what storm?”

Galiva looks sad when she says, "My parents are master diviners in the employ of the Duchess of Kiali. It’s an important port city, so they’re expected to See anything that might cause harm to it. So, when something as large as a hurricane hits without being Foreseen, the fallout of the disaster rests solely on them. Even five years after the fact, we're still dealing with the repercussions. Or rather, my mother is, and Demica is supposedly helping."

I wince at that. "Hell of a lot of responsibility for something as finicky as divination."

"Tell me about it," Galiva mutters. "But it is what it is. I just wish my parents would be honest with me about what’s going on. Part of why I'm excited for this trip is so I can get a better handle on what's going on at home.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a watch. “Speaking of this trip, where the hell is Thaddius? We need to leave in about fifteen minutes.”

I glance around the mess hall and see Alix, Allisande, and Margeurite all eating together, but Thaddius is notably absent.

“I’ll go track him down.” I press a kiss to Galiva’s cheek as I scoop up my empty bowl. “I’ll meet you in the courtyard.”

My first thought is the baths, but when I glance down into the steamy room, it’s empty. I head towards the abjuration tower and bound up the stairs to the second floor. When I rap my knuckles against Thaddius’ door, I’m rewarded with a muffled swear. A few more follow before the door is thrown open.

Thaddius is naked other than the blanket he holds over his crotch. Behind him, Ambra and Iona are snuggled together on the oversized bed, still half asleep.

“Forgetting something?” I ask blandly.

Thaddius gives me a crooked grin. “Give me just a second.”

He closes the door on me, and I debate leaving until I hear more muffled swearing and giggling coming from inside. It’s just like him to make us late because he didn’t tend to his goodbyes last night. I wait a few minutes longer, ready to knock on his door again to hurry him up, but he saves me the trouble.

He emerges, fully clothed, with two fresh hickeys on either side of his neck and a wide grin on his face. He winks at me.

“Well, c’mon then,” he says and sweeps off down the hall. “Or else we’ll be late.”

I roll my eyes but follow all the same. Thaddius has a definite spring in his step as we head down towards the Crux, but he breaks away at the mess hall.

“I’m going to grab a bite,” he says.

I scowl. “You don’t exactly have the time.”

“Relax,” he says. “I’ll only be a second. I’ll walk in with Alix.”

I shake my head and wave him off before I go to find Galiva in the courtyard. Today’s already got me anxious, and worrying about Thaddius won’t help me. He can get himself into town on his own.

Galiva’s waiting for me, her travel cloak draped around her shoulders. She’s got her spells tucked into her shirt, and I do the same before I pull my own cloak on. I pat my pockets, checking for my folding knife even as I wonder what I’ve forgotten.

Galiva seems to read my mind as she nudges my shoulder. “First-assignment nerves?”

“Is it that obvious?” I ask.

She chuckles and loops her arm through mine before leading the way out of the courtyard. Cecily and Rosemarie are on the first guard duty of the day and look anything but pleased about it. They wave us past before returning to their conversation.

“It’s normal to be nervous,” Galiva says. “But don’t worry, after the first few days on the road, you’ll be too bored to be nervous.”

I laugh at that. “I think uneventful is the best we can hope for. You’ve traveled this road before, right? What’s it like?”

“It’s lots of fields to start,” she says. “This time of year, it’ll be downright lovely. Spring is when everything is lush and green. Then further south, you hit the Crags. Real rugged country, lots of rocky cliffs and bluffs, but Kenitka and Straetham work together to maintain the main road. Hopefully we won’t have much issue.”

“Sounds like prime country for bandits,” I say.

“You’re not wrong,” Galiva says. “I’ve had some meetings with Arlon. He gave me a warning about an ovisari bandit that’s been harassing the area.”

“Arlon mentioned her when he was meeting with Katarine,” I say. “Sybarin, I think.”

“That’s the one,” Galiva says. “With luck, she won’t harass a caravan of this size, but according to Arlon, she’s been getting bolder recently.”

“Well, the threat of her is why Katarine was willing to take us on,” I say. “So, guess we can thank her for that.”

Galiva chuckles at that. “Let’s hope we never get the chance to thank her in person.”

“Here, here.”

The trip into town is quiet. The road is near empty this early in the morning, save for the fish merchants that travel in from the bay to sell their fresh-caught wares. Yet the further into town we go, the busier it gets. The market gets started early, and even though the sun is just over the horizon, some of the shops are already set up and ready for the day of sales.

We cut through the market and head towards the collection of buildings that make up the merchant’s guild. Galiva leads the way, and I can’t help but whistle as I catch sight of the caravan. There are no less than thirty carts of varying sizes waiting in the street. Horses, mules, even some oxen are being hitched up. People bustle about, running between the carts or loading up some last-minute items. Seeing it all makes reality set in, and excitement rushes through me all over again.

Katarine’s familiar voice rings out over the din. “Watch that crate, Elias!” As we round one of the carts, the guild master catches sight of us and grins. “Gotta love the first caravan of the season. Feels like everyone forgets what they’re doing over winter. C’mon, I’ll show you to yours.”

She leads us through the maze of carts and towards a large warehouse. The sliding door groans as she pushes it open a crack before motioning us inside. “You all will fall in at the very end of the caravan. Here’s a safe space for you to bring your wares in. Once you’ve done that, I’ve got your horses waiting for you.”

“Wait, we aren’t using some of Cancassi’s horses?”

Katarine chuckled. “You wouldn’t want to use a Maeve horse to cart something like this. Part of the deal was that I secure you the right horses for the road, so I’ve gotten you something bigger boned.”

“Are they alright with magic?” Galiva asks.

“Sure aren’t,” Katarine tsks. “That’s something you all will have to be conscious about. They’re good with nearly everything else, though, and have made this trip many times. They’re a brave lot. I’ve gotten you two for your heavier cart, and one for your lighter one.”

“Thank you, Lady Katarine,” Galiva says as her eyes scan the empty warehouse.

Katarine barely seems like she’s listening, her attention already floating back towards the cracked door. “I’ll let you all get your wares here. You’re waiting on four more, right? I’ll send them your way when I see them.”

She leaves us to it, sliding the warehouse door closed behind her. Galiva reaches into her pocket and pulls out the focus Arlon gave her. She grins at me before she goes to the center of the room and sets it down. A pulse of energy makes the focus flare. She steps back and grabs my arm, pulling me with her until we’re well out of the way.

Even though I know what’s about to happen, I still jump when it does. There’s a snap of displaced air, a groan of wood and steel, and the two carts appear. I can’t stop a small laugh. No matter how many times I see magic happen, it never gets old.

“Incredible.”

Galiva crouches down and reaches under the carts to grab the focus. I take it from her and close my hand around it. It feels like conjuration, but stronger than I’ve ever handled before.

“What’s this? Some sort of beacon?”

“Exactly,” Galiva says. “You can teleport without using one, but you have to be familiar with the location you’re teleporting to. For places you’re unfamiliar with, it’s best to have someone set a beacon so you don’t end up off-target. Arlon wanted to use one so we could get the carts right where they needed to be.”

“What’s so hard about making teleportation spells?” I ask as I roll the magiline marble in my palm. “It’s just conjuration, right?”

Galiva plucks the focus back from me before going around to the back of the carts to check on the contents. “Conjuration that you have to work for at least three months.” She scoops up a small box from inside the cart before handing it to me. “Which is why Arlon asked me to give this to you.”

I raise an eyebrow as I take the box. Curiously, I flick it open only to laugh at the contents as I pull the familiar chastity cage free.

“Oh, so he thought this might be a good time to get one out of me, then.”

Galiva grins as she watches me. “Only if you’re up for it,” she says. “I have the spare key, so I’d be the one to unlock you for cleanings, but Arlon is still your primary keyholder.”

“Would I really have to wear it all the way to the Eastern Tower?” My stamina is nothing to spit at, but even I’m not sure I could handle four to six months of chastity.

Galiva wears a playful smirk as she says, “Not if you’re very good.” She sobers a little as she says, “We’ll be reaching Laodeiros right around the three-month mark, but we can always take it off sooner if you need. No matter what, we’ll get a conjuration out of you. It just may not be a teleportation.”

I roll the cage over in my hand as I consider it. If Arlon was asking me to do this inside of the Crux, there would be no way. I’d cave in a month with the constant temptations around me. But since we’re on the road, there will be plenty of other things to keep me occupied, right?

“Alright,” I say before I hand Galiva the cage. “Lock me up.”

Galiva beams at me. “Yeah? You’re sure?”

I shrug and say, “You said yourself that it’s going to be a boring trip. It can’t be that hard, right?”

Galiva chuckles as she hops onto her feet. She trades places with me and pushes me to sit on the end of the cart. The look she gives me is pure mischief.

“Guess you’ll find out, won’t you?”

She pulls the laces of my trousers open and pushes my underthings down. I shiver at her gentle touch as she frees my cock. She smirks and casts a glance back towards the door before kneeling down between my legs. Her breath feels warm against my skin as she runs a long lick up my soft cock.

“Galiva!” I yelp.

“You’re not allowed to cum for at least three months. Consider it a parting gift,” she says with a smirk. Her lips tease down my rapidly swelling shaft before she pulls me into her mouth. I grip the edge of the cart, my legs shaking as she licks and sucks me to full attention.

As distracting as she is, I can’t help but keep looking at the door to the warehouse, all too aware that anyone could walk in on us. Galiva doesn’t seem to care. Her tongue rolls around the head of my cock, her lips gliding smoothly down my length. I swear as she sucks me, her head bobbing expertly between my legs.

“Fucking hell, Gal,” I gasp before I grab the back of her head. It feels like she’s trying to suck me dry, and I stifle my moan against my hand as she bobs lower. Only when I’m well and worked up does she swallow me to the root, her nose bumping my stomach. Then she looks up at me, her eyes twinkling with pleasure.

Maybe it’s the possibility of getting caught, or maybe it’s just because her mouth feels fucking amazing, but I only hold on a second longer before my end catches up to me. I swear under my breath as I cum hard. Thank the gods that Galiva doesn’t pull away - I don’t want to explain a mess on the warehouse floor to Katarine.

My hips twitch as Galiva cleans me with her tongue before pulling away. I slump back against the cart as she stands up, planting a kiss to my cheek. She feels hot against me as she slides the cool metal of the cage over my softening length. She grins against my skin as she guides my testicles through the gap before locking the thing in place. The key dangles from her fingers for me to see before she loops it onto her necklace next to her spells.

I can’t stop a quiet groan as she tucks me back into my trousers before lacing them up. She gives my crotch a gentle pat.

“Good boy,” she purrs, and I flush with pleasure at the simple praise. “Just let me know if it gets uncomfortable. We can always re-assess.”

I try and rub the blush from my face. “Yes, ma’am.”

The door grinds open, startling me to attention. I jump and look over, but it’s only Allisande and Margeurite. The redhead smiles at the sight of us.

“Did we catch you at a bad time?” she asks.

The blush comes back in full force, but Galiva just chuckles. “Just getting Dom ready for the road ahead,” she says with a wink.

Allisande raises an eyebrow before she looks knowingly at my crotch. “Glad I’m not the only one who had the thought of using this trip for a conjuration,” she says and drapes an arm around Margeurite’s shoulders. The ovisari’s cheeks flush pink even as she sinks against Allisande’s side, biting her lip.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of fun to be had with that when we set up camp,” Galiva says. “But we have to actually leave first. Where the hell are Alix and Thaddius?”

Allisande frowns. “Alix broke off to grab something from his room after breakfast. I assumed they left just after us.”

Galiva looks at me. “You got Thaddius up, right?”

“Yes! I had to drag his ass out of bed, but he said he was just grabbing breakfast,” I say.

The door to the warehouse grinds open further, flooding the room with light. Alix grins at us and says, “Anyone order some horses?”

My mouth drops open. Thaddius follows him, three lead ropes in hand, and behind him are some of the biggest horses I’ve ever seen. The Maeve horses at the Crux are tall, but they’ve got a lithe grace to them. These horses, though, have definitely been bred for strength.

They’re sleek, black and white with thick limbs. Their hooves are the size of dinner plates and are haloed by long featherings of hair. Manes and tails are neatly braided, and they look majestic in their leather harnesses and padded collars. Their arched necks let their heads hang, calm and relaxed, as Thaddius leads all three of them into the warehouse with ease.

He hands two lead ropes off to me. “Think you can handle getting these two hooked up?”

I take them, a little surprised. Cancassi has been giving me riding and driving lessons, but I only have a vague idea of how to hitch up a cart. Somehow, I think the tack Cass occasionally likes to dress me up in doesn’t exactly translate to a real horse and carriage. But something about Thaddius’ tone rubs me the wrong way. I’ve seen Cancassi get Mo hooked up to a sled over winter, and this can’t be that different, right?

I lead the two horses over to the larger cart and immediately realize I’m in over my head with this. The T that comes out from the front of the wagon is totally different from the one-horse sled that Cancassi uses. I can see how this one works in theory, but I’ll be damned if I can figure out how to juggle these two massive beauties and get them positioned right. In the excitement of the day, they dance a little, lifting massive hooves to stomp, as if impatient to get going.

“I’m working on it,” I tell the one with the star and strip on his face. “Help me out and hold still, will you?”

I manage to get one pushed into position in front of the cart and there’s a loud clang as his hoof connects with the T bar. I wince at that, but the other horse takes a step away from the unexpected sound, tugging me off balance.

“Hell, c’mon guys, help me out,” I say and pull the wayward horses a little closer.

“What the hell are you doing?”

The voice rings out behind me, loud and unexpected and definitely not anyone I know. I turn to come face-to-face with a Kenitkan man. His skin is the color of damp earth, and a clean scar on his face tugs the corner of his mouth to a scowl, but he’s doing enough of that even without it. He yanks one of the lead ropes away from me before handing it to yet another person I don’t recognize.

“S-sorry, I was just-”

“You’re gonna get yourself killed is what, and it may be Tamara holding the knife if she sees you messing with her horses,” the man says. He tugs me out of the way with a firm hand around my arm. “Leave it to the stable hands.”

I flush as a pale woman takes the lead rope I’m still holding. Now that the main doors are open, the warehouse has become a bed of activity. A blond man is already hitching up the small cart, and the woman who took the lead rope from me gets to quick work with the two horses at the big cart. My face gets even hotter when I see Thaddius’ smirk from across the warehouse.

I fight back against the sting of disappointment. Guess I’d been foolish to think that the night we spent together after the tournament had actually meant anything. Not if he’s still pulling shit like this. I sigh but follow the Kenitkan man as he heads across the warehouse towards Galiva.

“Sorry for riding your ass, kid,” he mutters. I flush at the choice of words even as my idiot cock twitches imagining it. “Departure day is stressful enough without wizards fucking around with three tonnes of very valuable horse.”

I’m about to answer, say anything that might make me look a little less in over my head than I feel, but the man calls out, “You’re Qamari?”

Galiva stops her conversation with Margeurite and Allisande as we approach. She looks the man over curiously as she says, “Sure am.”

“Katarine sent me to talk to you all,” the man says, sparing a quick glance at Mags and Allis. “If you could call your people around for me?”

“Of course,” Galiva says before whistling for everyone else.

Thaddius and Alix come to join us, but the man waits until he has everyone’s attention before he says, “My name is Jessic Odom. I’m the head of the caravan’s security, so until we reach the waypoint in Kiali, you all will defer to me.”

Everyone stands a little straighter at that, and a hint of a grin crosses the man’s face. “Guess I should have known that wizards would be used to following orders.” He looks around at us and says, “I’ll get names on the road, but for now I just need y’all to listen. You’re at the back of the caravan, which historically is where we’re attacked from most often. Bandits block the road and hit from behind, which is why I’ve put you in this favorite position.”

His dashing grin stands out white against his dark brown skin. Ebony hair has been woven into dreadlocks and pulled back into a short ponytail that shows off a strong jaw. Another scar has cut a divot down his left cheek, a testament to how serious he must take the role of caravan security. I’d guess him to be mid-thirties, as only a few strands of white weave through the ropes of his hair.

“You all brought riding horses?” Jessic asks.

“Yeah, two of them. They’re waiting outside,” Thaddius says.

“Good. During the day, you’ll have two riders who will be on lookout with me up front. I’ll leave the organization of that to you, Qamari. I don’t care who you send, just be sure I have two wizards up front with me by leaving time every morning. The Grandmaster promised us security aid, so we’re sure as hell going to use you all.”

Galiva nods. “Aside from bandits, is there anything specific we should be on the lookout for?”

“This time of year, usually the worst we deal with is wet roads and busted wheels. It’s been a wet winter, so we might have to clear some fallen rock from our path, which I will certainly leave to y’all instead of breaking out the shovels.”

Galiva grins. “We’re here to help in whatever way we can.”

“The best way you can help me is to keep your carts under control and well back from everyone else,” Jessic says. “Because bandits and rockslides aren’t what kill people on these trips - it’s runaway carts. I know I can trust Tamara’s horses, but you’re probably the only people in Straetham capable of spooking ‘em. If you do any of your witching back here, be sure it’s well away from the horses. The Crags are stressful enough, but they’re deadly if a cart goes over the cliff.”

“Yes, sir,” Galiva says. “We’re not planning on using our magic unless absolutely necessary.”

“And with luck, this trip won’t give you a reason to,” he says. “Who are the two joining me for security today?”

Galiva looks around and says, “Thaddius and Allisande are driving today, so Dom and Alix, how about you two be on security first? We’ll come up with a rotation when we stop tonight.”

Alix and I nod our agreement, and Jessic motions for us to follow him as he says, “We leave in ten minutes. Be sure your people and your cargo are secured. Once the last cart passes, fall in line.”

Galiva turns to us. “You heard the man, let’s get ready.”

#

ALIX SHOWS ME WHERE Mo and Lorien are tied and waiting at a hitching post near the stables. Thaddius must have ridden Mo in because when I check the stirrups, they’re at a good height for me. We untie them from the post before we catch up to Jessic as he makes his way towards the front of the caravan. He barely pays us any attention, too busy barking orders at other armored folks that must be the rest of the security team.

Mo’s ears flick back and forth as he watches the activity around him warily. We pass cart after cart, but Mo doesn’t shy away from any of the hustle and bustle.

I’ve never seen such an array before. Some carts are covered with oiled hide like our own, while others are little more than four walls with wheels carrying expensive lumber or roughly wrought bars of iron. I spot a few ovisari with a fancy cart that's filled with lockboxes, and even a group of Maeve with an entire train of horses in tow.

Jessic leads us to the front of the caravan where Katarine is talking to a short but imposing woman. She barely comes up to my waist, but she holds herself with the attitude of someone who’s used to being heard and heeded. Her black and gray hair is braided away from her round, mahogany face, and as we get closer, I can see the points of her long ears poking through the thick curls.

“Rajka, I’ve brought two of our new security force,” Jessic says and motions to me and Alix.

The short woman glares up at us, and when she crosses her arms, it pushes the mounds of her cleavage up. I try not to stare, focusing instead on the large blue eyes that look us over.

“So these are our wizards, huh?”

She’s not doing a thing to keep her voice down, and Alix clears his throat as he glances around at the busy area. “I thought we were supposed to keep that fact on the down low?”

Rajka rolls her eyes. “And if yeh think yer goin’ ta keep that secret for more than a couple of days, I’d say you’ve never been on a caravan before,” she says, her Immen accent so thick some words are hard to catch. “I’m Rajka, the head caravaneer. Has Jessic gone over yer new duties?”

“Was just about to,” Jessic says before glancing at Alix. “What’s your name?”

“Alix Laskarsis, sir.”

“Ah, a Lenear boy. Alright, Alix, I’m setting you up on the far side. You’ll patrol up and down the length of the caravan throughout your shift. There’s bad blood between a few of the merchants on this trip, but if any of them start to get too loud about it, you let me know. I’m going to be manning the front most of the time with Rajka. If you can’t find me, anything you tell her will get to me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What about you, horse boy?” Jessic turns to me, and I feel my face get hot. I can’t quite meet his eye.

“Dominai. Dom is fine.”

“Alright, Dom, you’ll be doing the same thing on this side,” Jessic says. “Today won’t be too eventful as we’re just heading out of town, but like I said, merchants hold grudges. If any of them try to pick up old fights, break it up and let me know.”

Rajka chuckles at that. “A good tongue-lashin’ usually does the job. Just use my name, and they’ll break it up right quick.” She meets my eye and winks. “Think of it as a way ta get to know the caravan.”

I can’t help but grin even as Rajka looks to Jessic. “Everyone settled?”

“If they aren’t, they will be soon,” Jessic says as he checks his pocket watch. He cups his hands around his mouth, and I would have thought his voice was magically amplified with how loud it booms out. Mo flinches, ears flicking back, as Jessic yells, “MOVE OUT.”

Neutered

On top of their strict views on sex and sexuality, the Cairish oligarchy adheres to rigid gender roles. Though the nomadic groups that reside across the Gonia desert do not recognize such strict binaries, each of the four ruling families of the Cairish oligarchy only appoint male heirs as their replacements.

A Magical History of the Greater Continent by Aurelia Laskarsis

I STAY IN BED FAR PAST my usual time. It just doesn't feel worth the effort to get up. My dreams are fitful as I doze on and off, breathing in the remnants of Dom's scent on my sheets. When I jerk awake to someone knocking on my door, I feel less rested than I did when Dom left at dawn.

Even though I try to ignore them, the knocker is persistent. Finally, I pull myself out of my bed and throw on my bathrobe before I open my door.

It's Ambra, and the plump little blonde frowns as she looks me over. “Did you forget we're on duty this afternoon?"

I had. In light of... everything else, my mind was the furthest thing from the guard rotation.

"Shit, sorry. Give me just a second."

I'm all too aware of the mess I am. The small bit of makeup I put on last night is smeared, the smell of sex still clinging to me. I wish I could go to the baths, but I don't have time. Instead, I pull on a clean shirt and trousers and try to smudge the kohl under my eyes into something presentable. My hair is a tangled mess, so I pull it back into a ponytail to deal with later. I look like I'm suffering from the world's worst hangover, but at least I'm somewhat put together.

I open the door to find Ambra still waiting for me. The look she gives me is full of sympathy. "Are you alright?"

I sigh and rub my face. "I will be.” And hopefully it won't take the four to six months until Dom returns for it to happen.

Ambra reaches out and squeezes my hand before she guides me downstairs. My stomach grumbles as we pass the mess hall. I missed breakfast, and after making Ambra come fetch me, I don't feel right asking her to let me grab lunch. Instead, we head to the main atrium and out the front door to take up our posts at the gate. Cecily and Rosemarie seem happy to be relieved as Ambra and I take our spots on either side of the entry.

It's a dull watch made worse by the fact that I don't much feel like talking. Ambra keeps casting furtive glances from across the path before she finally breaks the silence.

"I think I have an idea of what you're feeling, because I'm feeling the same way." When I don't answer, she sighs. "I could throttle Thaddius for agreeing to this. After what happened to Iona, I just... don't get it."

I lean against the stone wall. "I do. I'm just mad I'm not with them."

Ambra toys with a focus on her necklace. "You were asked though, right? No, of course you were," she says with a small grin. "I don't blame you for saying no. Arlon asked me, too, and I just... couldn't. Not after I heard Isa might be there. Not after seeing what Iona has gone through this past year."

I look over and see her pretty blue eyes filled with tears. We're all feeling their absence. We're all feeling this unease. And the worst part is that as much magic as we have at our disposal, we're powerless here.

I push away from the wall to wrap my arms around the short blonde. She returns the embrace before wiping her eyes and putting on a stoic smile.

"I'm being silly," she says. "They'll be fine, but godsdamn I'm going to miss them in the meantime."

"Me too." I press a kiss to the top of her head. Arlon sent them off without batting an eye, but knowing that I'm not the only one worrying somehow makes it easier. "We'll just have to spend the next few months planning the biggest welcome home party they've ever seen."

Ambra chuckles as she runs her fingers under her eyes to wick away the last stubborn tears. "Damn right."

I smile, but movement across the moat catches my attention. A couple of riders approach, but it's only when they get closer that I recognize Ambassador Feisal and a couple others that I assume are from his retinue.

Feisal dismounts and hands his reins off to one of his men before he and another head across the drawbridge towards us. If he wasn’t such an asshole, I might think he was handsome. His wavy black hair frames a chiseled, masculine face, but the smirk he wears immediately puts me on edge.

“Just the person I wanted to see,” he says in Cashir.

“And why would that be?” I say, speaking Strae just to piss him off.

A scowl tugs at Feisal’s pretty mouth. “I wanted to inform you that I will be writing to your father.”

“He says he’ll be writing to my father,” I translate for Ambra. It’s not really necessary, but it serves the purpose of pissing him off even more, his scowl deepening.

“And is that supposed to surprise me?” I ask. I’m sure he’s been doing nothing but write home since arriving in Straetham.

Feisal toys casually with one of the gold rings around his finger. “I thought it only seemed fair to warn you,” he says, still in Cashir. “Because I intend to inform him what a disgrace his son has allowed himself to become in his time in Straetham.”

I roll my eyes. He picked the wrong day to come here. I am in no mood.

“He’s going to cry home to my father about my deviant behavior, as if that’s somehow going to be news to him,” I translate, and Ambra stifles a giggle behind her hand. It’s made even sweeter knowing that Feisal can speak Strae just fine. By the look on his face, he’s not enjoying my glib translation of his empty threat.

“No, he’s well aware of the fact that you fuck men and call it ‘study,’ but what he doesn’t know is that his son is parading around as a woman in broad daylight. He’s been willing to forgive what you do in the Crux, but going into town? For shame, Olammed.”

The words land like a rock dropping into the pit of my stomach. Feisal smirks, as if sensing that he just scored a point. He takes a step towards me, his hands held at ease behind his back. “How far do you think you can push your father before he disowns you? Even someone as selfish as you should know what that could mean for your mother. For your sisters.”

The realization hits like a hammer. All this time, I've only been concerned with what my father or Feisal could do to me, but I’m not the only one at stake. My mother could be cast out for failing to produce an adequate male heir. Unless my father is able to leverage them in marriage, he could toss my sisters out as well.

If he truly did disown me, he could abandon the rest of his family for the sake of my replacement.

In between heartbeats, my shock turns to rage. The ringing in my ears drowns out Ambra’s concerned question and the deeper voice of someone behind me. I reach for my necklace, finding an evocation that will turn this hateful little man to ash, and the fear that lights on Feisal’s face feels like vindication.

Then a hand grabs my wrist, yanking my fingers away from my spells. I’m spun around to come face-to-face with a very angry Arlon.

“My office,” he says, his voice hard as stone. “Now.”

My rage still burns hot. I bare my teeth at him and try to yank away, but Arlon’s far too strong. His brown eyes narrow, and in one smooth movement he lifts my spell necklace from around my neck. It’s so quick, so unexpected, that I don’t have time to react. I snatch at them a second too late as Arlon tosses the strands behind him.

Bridgette catches my spells before they can hit the ground, a disapproving frown on her face. Garrett stands next to her with a pack on his back, looking concerned. Without my spells, I feel like I’ve suddenly been neutered, and all I want to do is tuck my tail between my legs and run.

I spin to look at Feisal, but his smirk is back stronger than ever. I open my mouth to speak - make some threat or plea that will stop him, but there’s nothing I can do. Feisal only came here to gloat because somehow, in spite of our precautions, I’ve been found out.

I clamp my mouth shut and, without another word, push past Bridgette and Garrett. Behind me, Arlon starts making apologies for me, placating the ambassador, but I don’t stay to listen. I all but run back into the Crux, my pulse still roaring in my ears. For a moment I debate disappearing to one of my hiding spots, but I think better of it. Arlon will find me, and it’ll only make the tongue-lashing I’m about to get worse.

Defeated, I head to his office. The door is closed and locked, so I just slide to the ground outside of it, burying my face against my knees. The roar of my pulse fades, leaving a stress headache to pound a painful rhythm inside of my skull. Tears prick at my eyes, but I force them back even as all of the awfulness of today catches up to me. I hug my knees, trying to make myself as small as I can.

The wait seems to stretch for an eternity. I'm so lost in my misery that when a gentle hand touches my shoulder, I jump. I hadn't heard anyone approach, but when I look up, it’s Arlon.

"Come on," he says before he unlocks the door to his office. Silently, I get to my feet and follow him in.

He's got my spells in his hand, and when he turns to face me, he looks as tired as he is angry. With a sigh, he leans against the front of his desk, setting my spells on the surface next to him. He opens his mouth a few times, but it's like he can't quite find the words.

"Do you realize what the repercussions for threatening an ambassador might be?" he asks at last. "Are you trying to start an international incident?"

I can't meet his eyes. Arlon seems to be waiting for an answer. When I don't have one, he sighs. "I'm confiscating your spells until I am convinced you can responsibly carry them. And if I catch you hiding any new spells from me, I will expel you from the Crux. Am I understood?"

I bristle, some of my earlier anger returning. "So you're going to treat me like a child, then?"

Arlon pushes away from his desk, one finger pointing sternly at me. "So long as you keep acting like one." I grit my teeth and look away even as Arlon lets out a frustrated sigh. "Have I really made you hate me so much with this godsdamned assignment debacle?"

Yesterday, when I was storming down to his office, I thought I did hate him. Anger and fear can do stupid things to a person. I keep my head lowered, my answer barely a whisper.

“I don’t hate you.”

Arlon is quiet, but I still can’t meet his eyes. He doesn’t give me a choice. He cups my face and gently tilts my head up. I’m just barely keeping it together, but the concern I see breaks through my battered barriers. I’m already so tired of feeling like this.

“This isn’t like you, Olbric," Arlon says. “What’s wrong?”

I lean into his hand and let out a shuddering breath as my eyes spill over. And once the tears start, I can’t seem to stop them again. Arlon sighs as his arms encircle me to pull me against his chest. I don’t fight him. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could. In so many ways, I feel powerless right now.

"Feisal found out about my trip into town for my transmutation mastery. He came to gloat that he was writing to my father about it.” My voice cracks when I say, “My father might finally disown me for this.”

Arlon swears and tightens his embrace. “I know you were angry. That doesn’t excuse you threatening to blast the man.”

I shake my head. “You don’t understand. If my father truly disowns me, he could cast my mother out for failing to produce an heir. If he can’t find suitors for my sisters, they could follow. They’d be left without any means, any protection.” My hands clench to fists as I grab his linen shirt. “And it would be my fault.”

The sound that rumbles out of Arlon’s chest can only be described as a growl. “The only one at fault would be your father. Do you think he’s really so heartless as to follow through with it?”

“He’s aging, and with every year I stay at the Crux, he’s getting more desperate,” I say. I bury my face against Arlon’s chest. “I-I don’t know what to do.”

Arlon’s chin rests against the top of my head. “Would you like my opinion?”

I feel so lost that all I want is for someone to help guide me. “Please.”

Arlon leans back to rest against his desk, pulling me with him. I’m grateful for it. The protective weight of his arms helps ground me.

“Right now, this is all speculation,” Arlon says. “And with the digs Feisal has taken at you since arriving in the capitol, I believe that this is just another attempt to shame you into returning to Cairish.”

“That doesn’t mean his threat doesn’t have teeth,” I say. “I know my father well enough to know it could become a very real possibility.”

Arlon’s hand is gentle as he strokes a flyaway hair behind my ear. “I’m not saying to remain idle. I’m saying use this time to determine the reality of the situation. If we don’t have a sending spell in the Crux’s stores, we can make one. You can contact your mother, make sure she has a way to notify you if your father takes that step. And if he does, gods forbid, we’ll find a way to get them somewhere safe.”

I press my face against his chest, feeling the soft hair that peeks out from the v of his shirt against my cheek. If I contact my mother, it means I have to tell her why I may have finally reached my father’s breaking point. And the idea of her rejecting me too makes me tremble.

Arlon must feel it because he tightens his grip. “What is it?”

“I’m afraid,” I admit. “If this was just about casting, it wouldn’t matter as much, but...”

“But what?”

I take a deep breath and realize just how exhausting it is to reveal myself again and again. “I’m not the man you think I am. Fuck, I’m not even a man,” I say and clench my eyes closed. Arlon tightens his embrace and patiently waits for me to continue.

“Casting like this with Dom has made me confront a part of myself I’ve kept locked away. I’ve... never been a man. Not entirely. Not always. Admitting that here has been harder than I ever imagined, but admitting it to my family?” I shake my head. “The idea of it is terrifying.”

Arlon kisses my temple, his beard tickling my skin. “Thank you for telling me. I know you’re scared, but wouldn’t it be better to have her hear it from you rather than whatever Feisal sends?”

I wince. God only knows what Feisal will say, though I’m sure none of it will be good. I take a deep, calming breath as I try to think through it. As terrifying as the prospect is, Feisal’s forced my hand. If it’s a choice between him spilling my truth or me, I’d rather it be me.

“You’re right.”

“I’ll get you that sending spell. It should last long enough to give you and your mother time to talk,” Arlon says. A moment of quiet passes before he asks, “Do you have any idea how he found out?”

I groan as I let my eyes slide closed. After how careful we’ve been about my casting habits, the fact that Feisal found out is like a kick in the testicles.

“It would be just my luck that he saw me across the market,” I say. “Or maybe someone recognized me and passed the information along.”

Arlon frowns. “I caught sight of you coming back, and I have a hard time believing anyone without a close familiarity to you would have been able to recognize you.”

“But how many Cashiras are around Straetham?” I sigh and say, “Before we left for town, I even had this nagging thought that Feisal might find out. Joke’s on me, there. Should have listened to my gut.”

Arlon doesn’t seem fully convinced, but he presses another kiss to my head. “I’m sorry this has happened. But whatever happens next, the Crux will support you. I will support you.” He’s quiet for a second before adding, “Unless you threaten to blast another ambassador. Then I’ll have to put my foot down.”

I can’t help but chuckle at that, and with it, some of the weight lifts. Knowing that I don’t have to face this alone makes me feel like I’m able to face it at all. I let out a long breath.

“Thank you.”

––––––––

TO BE CONTINUED...

Bonus Magic

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Also by Alethea

Main Series:

Initiation, Sex Wizards Book 1

Mastery, Sex Wizards Book 2

Championship, Sex Wizards Book 3

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SIDE STORIES:

Storm Night, A Sex Wizards Story

Divination Practice, A Sex Wizards Story

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COMING SOON:

Starshine, A Sex Wizards Story (Garrett and Bridgette’s backstory)

Odyssey, Sex Wizards Book 4

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About the Author

Alethea Faust is a writer of kinky, queer, erotic epic fantasy. Things you can expect to find in their works are risk-aware consensual kink, hard BDSM, non-toxic masculinity, kind and emotionally mature adults, and a lot of butt stuff.

They also have a Patreon, where you can find exclusive stories in the Sex Wizards world as well as early access to future books in the series.

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Read more at Alethea Faust’s site.