Dark (Beautiful Ashes #1) (19 page)

A
Special
Note

 

Dear Reader,

 

Would you please consider leaving a review? I’m not only an author but an avid reader as well. I love hearing about new authors to read. Word of mouth is powerful, however, so are reviews. Think of it as a way to reach book friends you haven’t met yet. Leaving your review helps fellow readers find new books to love, and helps the authors who write them. Win-win! So please, leave one on
Amazon
and/or
Goodreads
.

 

Thank you,

 

Lora Ann

 

About
the Author

 

Lora is a Missouri native who relocated to California as a teen. She spent several years as an international flight attendant for a major airline, before taking on her greatest job ever, a stay-at-home mom. Now she resides in Kentucky with her family, and has taken on her newest adventure, writing.

 

Desecrating
Solomon

A Forbidden Romantic Thriller

By Lucian Bane

 

Chapter One

 

Silence closed her eyes and focused, bringing her jittery mind and erratic pulse back into her control. Again.

She was finally there. In The Hallower Chamber. She didn’t permit herself to look about but her peripheral said she’d been wrong. The torture devices and horrific tools she’d imagined hanging from the ceiling and walls, did not exist.  She prayed for immediate forgiveness for thinking they would or should.

Six years. She could hardly believe it had passed. Six years as Silence ended today.  The dream was seared into her mind, just as her lips had been seared shut in it. She’d delivered the nightmare to Master and by his gifts he interpreted the meaning. Contemplative Silence. She was to become that. She was to become Contemplative Silence, and she had. For six years to the day.

Master said she was special, not ill. That’s why she was chosen. She didn’t have to hate her visions and dreams anymore. People still looked at her with fear, but since Master came into her life and embraced the dreams and visions, called her curse a gift and her visions the illustrious voice of God, Silence had gained acceptance. Mostly. More importantly, the Queen approved.

Silence carefully slid her gaze to the single door leading in. She was impressed with the decorative black metal that held the thick wood slats together. Very noble looking. The entire room was black—walls, ceilings, floor—all a rough stone painted a shiny looking onyx. But empty except for the single slab of granite in the shape of a hobbit table where she sat in her ceremonial graduation gown that literally stole her breath. It reminded her of the wet binding cloth Master used to wrap her in for hours to teach her about control and restraint. Only this one was blood red. She’d never worn anything so pretty, even if she couldn’t breathe well. She saw herself as a single drop of blood—or life force, in the middle of the black room.

Would Master like the dress? Would he be the one to usher in the final phase? She secretly hoped so. She’d never met the Order’s Queen. She was not permitted to look upon her. Nobody but Master was allowed. Many speculated about the Queen and what she looked like. But Silence didn’t. She worried Master would somehow find out and punish her for the blasphemy. He seemed to be able to read her mind at times. And even though he’d trained her personally in the holy arts of pain and fear, she preferred to not test him. She was strong—he’d said so many times—but there were countless days she only believed that by sheer faith. Many days she didn’t feel strong. Or brave. Just the opposite. So many times she was tempted with the dark fears, the destructive ones that threatened the Order’s way. But the holy fear and pain, those were gifts from her Master’s hands. And only complete submission to it could provide the divine power she needed to fulfill her role as the Queen’s chosen Redemptrix.

Her calm insides jolted at the clang of the outer door leading to The Hallower. She assumed the practiced position—face forward, body erect in strict obedience, eyes cast to the floor in deference. The door opened and her peripheral vision picked up a nude form. The movements as they entered signaled the lopsided gait belonging to Master. She let out a silent breath mixed with anticipation and relief.

She kept herself perfectly still as he shut the door. One metal clank… then two… then three. Her heart hammered in her ears despite her steady breaths. It was always this way, no matter how practiced she was with Master’s training. Her body knew. Her mind and muscles remembered to never relax.

“Sweet Silence,” he said when he stood before her.

She stared at his hardened phallus, leaning to place the customary kiss on the butterfly tattoo wrapping its length. He stopped her with the long nail on his pointer finger pressing into her forehead.

“Not this time.”

Again Silence braced, mostly in confusion. She didn’t remember a single time when he didn’t require the Butterfly Kiss. She still remembered the day he had the vision to get the tattoo. The butterfly on the phallus symbolized that the lost would be ushered to heaven’s door by the seed of Master. During her Silent Contemplation she’d marveled over his interpretation, glad that he seemed to be getting some of her gifts.

She hoped he got all of them.

“You look beautiful in your graduation gown, Silence.” He stroked that same finger along her face, beginning with her temple. The soft scratch of his nail filled her mind with flashes of past disciplines. There was no part of her body he’d not trained in some way, for some sacred reason.

“Thank you, Master.”

She listened closely to his unsteady breaths, thick with the scent of fermented juice. “Are you nervous?”

The odd question stumped her. “No, Master.”

He gave several grunts followed by a series of strained groans. It meant he was having divine revelations right in that moment. “Six years of Silence to usher in the final phase.” The withered words came with the glide of his finger over her lips, lingering long enough for her to know what he wanted. But when she parted her lips to suck, he drew it away, bringing another unusual surprise. “Are you ready, little one?”

“Yes, Master.” The bad fears made her breaths shallow as she struggled with old flight and hide instincts. Why wouldn’t he let her suck it? It was always the not knowing parts that got her, it always was. What he would do each time. He liked surprising her, she was sure of it. It had become an unspoken duel between them—her to anticipate, and him to be unpredictable.

A gasp escaped her as she fumbled with the reigns on her control. Master was the one person she would always fear. She was supposed to fear him and only him. Fearing him was allowed, it was good, it was expected, demanded.

Think of the Hallowing Ceremony. Graduating to the next phase. Six years of silence is over.

Sudden terror hit her. The dream. The vision for her new name. What if he expected her to have it this time? He never told her.

“So much fear, little one.” His voice croaked with disappointment as he tilted her face up with that same finger, now under her chin. “I am sure you’re eager for your new name.” He began a slow trek to the right of her, his finger gliding off as he went. Silence refused to allow her gaze to stray from straight before her. So, he’d had the dream? The vision? “I too, am ready to hear it,” he finished.

He’d not had it. Terror raced back in and she swallowed at what this might mean. “I had no dream, no vision.” Her voice rang out with strength despite the quiver in her gut.

His deep chuckle just behind her, tickled along her spine. “I know,” he whispered, his mouth suddenly at her ear. “Because I was given the dream this time.”

The beat of her heart became a wallop in her chest. Breathe, Silence.

“I’m sure you’re eager to know it?” he said lightly, slowly coming back around on her left now.

“I am excited to learn it.”

“And I’m excited to tell you.” He came to stand exactly before her again. Silence gripped the bottom part of her dress in tight fists as he placed his hands on either side of her head. He pulled her to his phallus, moving his hips side to side lightly. She waited for his direction, knowing not to engage until he communicated firmly. “I had a vision of your new name, little one. A vision of a hand writing on the wall next to my bed.” The tip of his penis stroked errantly over her cheek and lips, meandering and without purpose. “Do you know what it said, sweet angel?”

She shook her head only barely. “No, Master.”

His fingers suddenly bit down in her hair, pulling harder than he'd ever done before. She fought to look him in the eyes the way he always insisted when she milked for his essence. But he shoved so far in, so quickly she hadn’t had time to relax her throat. Already it burned and hurt. “Talk to me Silence. One last time before you leave,” he growled, grabbing the hair on top of her head while he pinched her nose shut. “Tell Master how much you will miss him. How you will never forget him. How you will only think of him,” he hissed, pounding his penis harder against her throat.

Silence struggled to give him what he wanted, but she needed air. Her body refused his wish, it always did.

“Tell me!” he ordered between grunts and thick groans.

She tried again. She tried so hard.

His fist shot down and slammed into her forehead. A familiar numb buzzing filled her skull and ears as she sucked in air through her nostrils. “Tell me Silence, tell me how much you’ll miss me while you fuck our sacrifice!”

She did it in her mind, she gave him what he wanted. She screamed until she had no more breath. She screamed as loud and hard as she could, but it came as silence. Something had broken inside her years ago. She couldn’t remember the exact day, she just knew it had. She could no longer scream. It was as though she’d forgotten how or lost the ability. No matter how much he beat her or hurt her body, her mind disconnected from everything and she couldn’t. She could feel the pain but she was trapped in silence. Just like her name.

He was close to his brutal orgasm now. She could feel it as he fought to choke her with it. It finally came with a long roar and a single word that sent ice along her spine.

“Chaos,” he roared. “Chaos, Chaos, Chaos.” The words came with his last thrust and she fought not to choke on his divine essence. “No longer Silence,” he rasped. “Your new name… is Chaos. And today... Master will baptize you in it. Then deliver your body to Hell’s door.”

The next blow Master delivered sent Silence into the stone wall. She hurried in alarm to another place inside herself. Confused, she struggled to stay awake as he beat her like never before. Was he going to kill her? Was the final phase to be carried out in the afterlife? Did he realize he was killing her? She fought to trust him. He never hurt her beyond quick repair. He was a Master at that. She had to believe that and survive.

She began to pray so very hard. Please God. Please let me survive, please don’t let me die. Please keep me alive so I can finish Your will.

“Chaos!” he roared over and over, the sound echoing over a great distance. “Blood and Chaos. Pain and suffering! It has come! The Desecration of Desecrations is here! Bring him! Bring Solomon Gorge to God that he might purge the sin from this evil land!”

Bring Solomon Gorge. Bring Solomon Gorge.

Silence repeated the name, a lifeline to consciousness. She couldn’t die. She couldn’t fail. Solomon Gorge. Solomon Gorge. I’m coming. You will redeem this land. You will save us all from the evil in this land.

Though Silence couldn’t scream it, she did. She screamed it into the darkness, commanding the grave back. Screamed it into the silence, into that never-ending night. Solomon Gorge. Solomon Gorge. Solomon Gorge.


Chapter Two

 

Solomon bolted up in bed, gasping and covered in sweat. Solomon Gorge. Solomon Gorge. The echoed screams clawed through his brain and blood sending him flying off of the bed and out the front door. Running off of the porch into the dark, he searched the woods around him, looking for who had screamed his name. As he spun in circles, he realized he might have dreamt it. But it was too real, it woke him. It wasn’t just some scream, some animal scream, it was a woman and it was his name. Clearly!

 

 

You can read the rest of the story here: Desecrating Solomon: A Forbidden Romantic Thriller -
http://amzn.to/1TG1jhE

 

 

Other books

Rogue in Porcelain by Anthea Fraser
Prince's Fire by Amy Raby
Georgie's Moon by Chris Woodworth
On The Floor (Second Story) by LaCross, Jennifer
Sweet Deception (Truth) by Henderson, Grace
The Secret of the Stone House by Judith Silverthorne
Devlin's Justice by Patricia Bray