Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5

with him, although he doubted they'd waste their time that way.
    "Sebastian," he repeated softly, his deep baritone almost melodious, as if the syllables rolled from his tongue. "I am not your enemy. I want to help you."
    Sebastian watched the manicured finger dip under the gaping neckline and touch his bruised ribs, soft enough not to hurt them.
    "You've been hurt. Come, let me help. Tell me what we need to know, and I'll take you down from there."
    His shoulders shook, as if the mere thought of release prompted them to hope. Sebastian tried to block out the man's words, knowing them to be false. He had nothing to tell, and even if he did, they would only kill him after. Freedom was a mirage.
    That finger skimmed over his chest, so lightly it really shouldn't have sent sparks of heat into his body, then higher up his neck. They rested at his pulse, like a warning. His veins bulged against even that tiny bit of pressure. Animalistic panic clawed at his insides, ratcheting his heartbeat faster and giving himself away.
    The pointed touch turned into a caress that slipped along his jaw, and soft pressure tilted his head up. Sebastian forced himself not to betray his surprise as he looked up into the face of the most intimidating man he'd ever seen.
    He'd expected a ruddy-faced ogre with jowls, spouting threats of pain. Instead this man had icy blue eyes, an aristocratic nose, and lips that Sebastian could only call sensual. Unlike the Generals with pasty skin and dandy hair, this man was darkly tanned with the shaved head favored by soldiers in the field.
    A warrior.
    "Sebastian Gabriel Marquez. I can protect you," those sweet lips whispered. It was the fucking mirage again, promising things he knew were impossible. He would not find any comfort here. Maybe the man himself was a trick of his mind, conjured up from his sexual fantasies. A dark knight to save him, carry him away, and have his dirty way with him.
    The fact that he was even thinking about sex in this hellhole was proof enough of his lunacy. And yet, his body responded. The heat, the clean, spicy smell, washed over him in a shiver of lust.
    His dick hardened. Well, that was the only thing that could move. They hadn't chained that part of him down. Yet.
    Thank the Gods the man didn't seem to notice. In fact, Sebastian would bet he had no idea of his appeal at all. He had exactly that sort of acute intelligence combined with a complete lack of self-awareness. Figured that this paragon of perfection worked for the Ke'lan. They took everything of value.
    The man leaned in close and put his lips to his Sebastian's ear. Sebastian wanted to tell him not to, that he was unwashed, but the intimacy felt too good to refuse. The cold metal and damp concrete enfolded him like a tomb, so that even the softest human touch elicited gratitude. Not that he would show that to his enemy.
    "Just tell us what we need to know." The whisper tickled his ear and made his erection jump. "Then this can all be over."
    The man pulled back. There was no trace of tenderness in his eyes. No gentleness in his stance. Were his words all lies? Of course they were. This was the Ke'lan. The people that had stolen their lands and tortured his father. The people that would kill him all because he'd tried to free his father and gotten caught in an attack.
    Sebastian gathered the last dregs of saliva in his dry mouth and spit it into the man's face.
    Those lips – lips he would probably dream about, if he lived long enough to sleep again – firmed in anger. The man reached up, and Sebastian couldn't help but flinch away from the impending blow. But all the man did was unlatch the suspension of his chains. Sebastian fell to the floor with a thud and writhed in agony as needles flooded his veins. The soft latch of the door and sudden feeling of emptiness cut through his pain briefly. He was alone.
    ****
    Drake reclined in his chair and studied the man on the screen. Sebastian huddled in a corner, shaking, probably not realizing he was being watched. Drake tried to harden his heart against the man's obvious fear, and his bravery, although the fact that it softened at all disturbed him.
    He'd heard that a boy had been caught in a raid. He'd accepted the assignment to question him, expecting some skinny kid who quivered at his boots. Instead he found a man, trussed up like some savage offering. A beautiful man. His body had responded in a way it hadn't in years.
    Not since Lissa. Not ever again, he had