(Brides of the Kindred #14)
Publication date: January 31st 2015
Genres: Adult, Romance,
Enslaved is book number 14 in the Brides of the Kindred series. It is a plus-length novel of around 168,000 words
Anything for you Mistress…
Thrace S’ver is an unwilling slave. Drugged and bound, he is taken to
the Flesh Bazaar and put up for sale to the highest bidder. But this is
not the first time Thrace has been on the auction block—he has a past
full of horrors he doesn’t intend to repeat. Desperate to be free, he
swears he’ll kill whoever buys him.
Lonnara Trin is the Captain of a merchant ship from the all female
planet of Zetta Prime where sexual relations with a male are considered
unnatural and wrong. She has no use for males personally, but she needs a
big, muscular slave or her business will suffer—Thrace fits the bill.
Soon Mistress and slave are embroiled in a desperate conflict which
draws them intimately together. To her surprise, Trin actually begins to
have feelings for her slave. And though Thrace swore to be free, he
finds himself devoted to his new Mistress. When their differences
threaten to tear them apart, Trin tries to grant Thrace his freedom. But
she doesn’t realize that his heart has already been…Enslaved.
“I don’t believe this,” Sidna
said flatly. “You’re saying he’s staying on as your slave
willingly? And he’s also willing to wear the collar—the one that
almost killed him?”
“He is,” Trin said steadily,
looking at Thrace though she was answering the medic. “Thrace
volunteered to wear the pain collar so that you and the rest of the
crew would know he is not a threat. I have the remote and I will
use it if it looks like
he is trying to harm any one of us.”
“I would expect nothing less,”
Thrace said stolidly. He took a deep breath. There was nothing to do
but get it over with. Taking a step towards her, he fell to his knees
on the cold metal floor at her feet. “Mistress,” he said, his
voice coming out hoarse and gravely. “I submit to you and offer my
neck for your collar. I will serve you until I die or until you set
me free.”
Trin cleared her throat. “And you
submit to my collar and my will of your own volition?”
“I do,” Thrace said hoarsely. “I
will belong to you body and soul. I will protect you with my life,
shield you from harm in times of danger, and pleasure you in times of
peace. To the last drop of my blood, I…am…yours.”
Those words…the words he had
always refused to say. He said them to Trin now. They brought back
more memories—an evil tide of poison from the past that threatened
to drown him. Say it! the
Master screamed. Say that
you’re mine! Fucking say it, boy!
Thrace bowed his head, trying to
drive the tide back, to banish the past. Gods…
“Thrace…” Trin reached out
tentatively and stroked his hair. It was a gentle touch—the same
way she might soothe an animal on the verge of panic. Thrace found
himself soothed by it now.
He couldn’t help himself—the
memories had undone him and for a long moment he couldn’t push them
back. He leaned into her touch, looking for reassurance, needing her
scent and the warmth of her hand to know it was safe to do this…safe
to submit to the collar he had so hated in the past.
Not the Master, he
told himself over and over. She’s
not the Master.
Why the fuck are you putting
yourself through this? demanded
the sarcastic little voice in his brain. Why
endure the pain and the rush of bad memories? Is it really just to
pay a debt?
Again, he had no answers. He simply
held still under her touch, breathing her warm, feminine scent and
trying to calm his screaming nerves. Even surrounded by B’Rugh’s
goons he hadn’t felt this fucked up—this threatened. In a moment
he would be able to bury the past again. But for now, it was all he
could do to hold still and let this happen, all he could do to submit
to the collar for her sake though he still didn’t know why exactly
he was doing it.
“Thrace,” Trin whispered again
and her hand moved lower, caressing his cheek, cupping his jaw.
A warm current seemed to flow
through him at the skin-to-skin touch and at last his labored
breathing became easier.
Not the Master…The
past began to recede.
“Are you sure you can do this?”
Trin asked in a low voice, for his ears alone.
Thrace looked up at her. “I have
to,” he murmured. “It’s the only way you can trust me.”
She looked troubled but at last she
nodded.
“True. All right—here goes.”
Thrace held his breath and closed
his eyes as she fastened the hated black collar around his throat,
making sure it wasn’t too tight as she fit it in place. Not
the Master…not the Master, not the Master…
“There.” She said at last,
cupping his cheek again. “It’s done.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
Thrace could barely get the words
out. Turning his face, he pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand. It
was the final gesture of submission—kissing the hand that collared
him.
He knew it was the correct gesture
because it was what the old Master had demanded of him. But he had
never given the old Master that satisfaction or said the words he had
spoken to Trin, no matter how much the Master shouted and raved and
hit. No matter what…other
things he did.
Now he gave the gesture of
submission to Trin without hesitation, just as he had given the
words.
Why?
He still didn’t know.
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Evangeline
Anderson is a registered MRI tech who would rather be writing. She
lives in Florida with her husband and son and enjoys reading, writing,
baking, and playing Diablo II. (She has a barbarian named Giggles and a
necromancer named Jimbo.) Despite her goofy hobbies, she writes smoking
hot paranormal, sci-fi, and BDSM erotica
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