not care about such things. No, he is hiding something, and I think it has something to do with your past.”
Eridan’s forehead wrinkled. What was he talking about?
Tethru walked around him, like a predator circling its prey. “You are startlingly beautiful,” he said in an almost absent-minded voice, stroking his beard. “Even for a throwback, your physical appearance is remarkable. It makes me think you are the product of very expensive genetic engineering.”
What?
“Such advanced genetic engineering is usually available only to members of royal families,” Tethru said.
Eridan laughed. “That’s quite a leap, Your Grace.”
Tethru smiled with just his lips. “Perhaps. But I find it curious that there was a royal child about your age that went missing around the time Idhron brought you to the High Hronthar.”
Eridan stared at him. “My Master brought me to the Order?”
Tethru chuckled. “Were you not aware of it? Poor child.”
Eridan glared at him. “I’m not a child. And if my Master didn’t tell me about it, I’m sure he had valid reasons. It’s not my place to question him.” Of course he was going to question Castien, but that was their business, not this creep’s.
“Such loyalty is admirable,” Tethru said, stepping closer and taking Eridan’s chin. “And foolish.” His grip tightened, becoming painful. “You will tell me what he is planning, boy.”
“I don’t understand,” Eridan said.
Tethru glowered at him, his genial mask leaving him completely. “Don’t play an idiot. Idhron didn’t even fight for the position of Grandmaster. Why?”
“It’s just a word,” Eridan said. “What does he need the title for when everyone already treats him as the Grandmaster?”
A punch to his gut wasn’t unexpected. Eridan grunted in pain, suddenly glad that Tethru was too close to deliver a harder punch.
“You impertinent brat,” Tethru hissed into his face. “Perhaps I should teach you a lesson.”
Before Eridan could wonder what that could possibly mean, Tethru slammed his mouth against Eridan’s, shoving his tongue inside it.
Nauseated, Eridan bit hard on his tongue, causing Tethru to howl and remove his vile mouth. “You little piece of shit,” Tethru hissed, grabbing his hair and yanking Eridan’s head aside. He latched onto Eridan’s neck, biting so hard Eridan cried out in pain. Tethru laughed, shoving him against the wall. “Cry. I like it when little boys cry.” He ground his erection against Eridan’s stomach. “Can’t wait to stick it into your cunt.”
“MASTER!” Eridan screamed through the bond. “MASTER!”
Tethru laughed. “He will not come. He will not hear you. By the time I’m done with you, you will be sloppy with my semen, and he will only throw you away.”
Panic, rage, and disgust filled his body, his vision going red, and before Eridan knew what he was doing, Tethru was making strangled noises.
When he came back to his senses, Tethru was a dead weight on top of him.
His eyes wide, Eridan shoved him off and stared at Tethru’s still body.
Was he…?
Was he…?
Was he dead? Had he just strangled the Grandmaster of the Order to death?
Eridan swallowed his nausea. He couldn’t bring himself to touch Tethru to check his pulse.
Was he dead? He couldn’t sense Tethru’s telepathic mark anymore. Did that mean he was dead?
The sound of the door opening made him freeze.
“Eridan?” said Castien’s voice.
Eridan exhaled, relief like no other washing over him. It would be all right. Everything would be all right. His Master was here. His Master would take care of everything.
His legs no longer holding him, Eridan sank to the floor. He was trembling, he realized distantly. Maybe he was in shock.
Closing his eyes, he hugged his knees and rocked himself back and forth, the words of a half-forgotten lullaby sounding in his ears. He didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to look at… at the body. Was he dead? Or just unconscious?
The worst part was, he wasn’t sure which option he would prefer. He had wanted Tethru dead. For that brief moment, he had hated that disgusting man. But did being threatened with rape justify taking someone’s life? He didn’t know.
His stomach was churning. He felt dirty. He was dirty.
There was the sound of footsteps, and then his Master crouched before him. “Get up,” he said, laying his hands on Eridan’s shoulders. “You need to leave. Now.”
Eridan bit his lip hard, knowing what that meant.
Tethru was dead.
He had killed him. He had killed a person.
“Eridan, move.”
Eridan didn’t move. “It was self-defense,” he whispered hoarsely, squeezing his eyes shut. “It was self-defense, Master.”
He felt more than heard Castien sigh. “I know,” he said. “Look at me.”