Chapter Forty One

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Charissa lay in her bed, her naked body entwined in Sphal's long arms and legs.  She ran her fingers through his soft hair, his head resting at the nape of her neck.

Their first assignation had been a hurried furtive affair, filled with the spice of the fear of discovery.  But as the days had passed, it became clear to Charissa that Amantis intended to lock her up and forget her.

Garanth had been taken away.  Amantis allowed her to visit him every day, a concession to ensure her compliance, that tenuous connection being the hostage he would sacrifice if she rebelled against him further.

Charissa ran her fingertips down Sphal's side, watching his warm soft flesh quiver tickelishly at her touch.  The sun was well risen and he needed to be back at his post.

Sphal had spoken frequently of rescuing her and Garanth, sneaking them out of the city to some place where they could live together as a family.  He didn't know how he would do it yet, but he spoke of their future together with a confidence that quelled her fears.

Suddenly her bedroom door burst open, slammed against the wall, and hung rattling on its hinges.  Amantis stormed in, a reaver at his side and Apaidia smirking behind.  Sphal bolted upright and cast around for his spear and found it out of reach in the far corner of the room.  He rose and stood in defiant attention near the foot of the bed.

"How dare you?" Amantis asked of Sphal.  "I trusted you."

Apaidia looked as if she could barely contain her glee.  The other reaver's expression had gone from shock to poorly concealed amusement.

"You, dra, have much neglected your wife," Sphal said.

"And you thought it your place to attend to her?"

"You, yourself, entrusted her welfare into my care.  Since it seems you no longer wish to see her, I will take her off of your hands."

Amantis stood trembling, his eyes narrowed and his mouth pressed into a thin line as his complexion purpled.  "How dare you tell me what to do with my wife!" he roared.  He spun, ripped the long knife from the reaver's belt and plunged it into Sphal's belly.  With a viscous twist, he carved a horizontal slash across Sphal's abdomen, flinging a line of blood across the wall with a wet splat as the blade tore free.

Sphal clutched his belly and staggered back against the wall.  His face blanched and he looked helplessly at Charissa as if she could save him.

Kneeling on the bed, clasping the linens to herself and watching her last hope bleed out on the bedroom floor, Charissa screamed.  Amantis flung the knife down in disgust as if he'd expected something more dramatic in Sphal's death.  Sphal slid to the floor, eyes closed, face clenched in pain.

"No!" Charissa shrieked, then filled her lungs and shrieked again as if by her cries she could scare away the future she now saw.

"Shut up!" Amantis shouted back.

Charissa continued to wail.

Amantis stepped up and smashed her in the face with the back of his hand.  She fell to the bed, the side of her head numb.  The world whirled around her darkening as it spun and still she sobbed.  Amantis grabbed her arm and jerked her naked from the bed with a strangled shout.  "I have had more than enough of you!"

"You two stay here," he commanded to the reaver and Apaidia.  "Don't touch the body until I get back."

"But—" Apaidia started to object as Amantis dragged Charissa through the door and out into the hall.

Charissa snatched a glance over her shoulder.  Sphal lay propped against the wall, a dismayed look in his glazed eyes, and then Amantis dragged her away.

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