Far From Home Two: The Monster's Heir-- a M/M/M fantasy romance

32-- All is Right

*****I don't think this needs a trigger warning, but yucky gore ahead, sort of... not sort of. Definitely yucky gore ahead.*****

LLYRIC—

All was right in my world. My mates loved each other, we would be married— mated— soon, and my memories of my life before were beginning to fade. They would never be gone— no, not completely— but they were dimming and being replaced with new memories. Memories of love and passion and laughter. Of stories told while I lay healing, of learning the language of music as I never had been able to before.

Of trying out my voice just every once in a while. Only when I was calm and knew I wouldn't let my power slip. Only when I knew my words wouldn't affect anyone around me. Only then did I allow myself to talk. But it was enough. My men loved my voice— they told me quite frequently— and I enjoyed sharing my love for them with my song and my words.

The moment I pulled away from Ember so Sage could kiss our stubborn, sometimes clueless mate, my eye was caught by a flicker of movement.

And my heart dropped out of my chest, my body completely stiffening to a near-painful degree.

It took a moment for Sage and Ember to notice my distress, but when they did, they turned as one to face the man who had, until then, been hiding within the branches of the willow tree I had almost lost my life beneath.

Gods, how very fitting.

Father's eyes shone with a madness I had only ever seen when he was deep into a punishment. When he lost total control and nearly killed me with whatever weapon he was using at the time— whip or blade or brand or worse.

"Mine!" he shrieked, his voice high-pitched and horrifying. Ember scoffed and began to stand, his hands shaking with anger, but steadying when he pulled out his sword from its scabbard. Sage moved to follow suit, but both men froze with dagger tips digging threateningly into their necks, keeping them from finishing their protective moves.

My body still frozen in dread and disbelief, I watched in absolute terror as my men were easily disarmed and pushed to their knees by my side, outnumbered and taken by surprise.

Then Father was there before me, his hand reaching out to stroke my face, but pulling back at the last minute so as not to feel the pain he inevitably endured when he touched me.

"Don't you fucking touch him," Sage growled, fighting against the hands that now moved to tie his arms behind his back.

How had they snuck up on us like this? Was I so distracted by Ember's impending proposal that I had completely blocked out everything around me? How had I not sensed Father, when his evil, lust, and insanity were so very familiar to me?

But the pain. That was new. Dear gods, Father had such pain. Physical, aching, throbbing, stealing his life even as he refused to treat the injuries. His prick was gone— I could feel the lack, and the way the wound hadn't been treated at all except to stem the flow of blood and keep him alive. It was festering, his groin and belly a mass of infection and agony, and the pain from that and various other bits of his body torn open or ripped off made me lightheaded.

There was something in his ass too— something so painful I wanted to cry out as it washed over me. Something... lodged inside of him? Oh gods, it felt as if he had a... a knife shoved up inside of him, and it was stuck. But that was... that wasn't possible.

How was he even walking, standing... alive...?

"Hold still, Captain," a voice said mockingly from behind Sage, and the rage on Sage's face heightened to a frightening degree.