Wicked Empress: The Onic Empire, Book 4 by Anitra Lynn McLeod Read Free Book Online Page A

bring him to Diola? Her shoulders slumped. And just what kind of a selfish bitch was she for not recognizing his agonizing position earlier.
    Lifting her hand, she said, “Stop.”
    He closed his mouth abruptly, but at least this time he didn’t drop his gaze.
    “I would never hurt you. You are my chosen.” She smiled at him, deliberately softening her voice and her face to convey the truth of her words. “I wish for you to learn, for me to learn.” After a pause, she added, “We will work together to be together.”
    Cocking his head to the side, he considered her down the long length of table. “You will learn too?” Harsh lines that darkened his brow lightened with this new idea.
    Nodding eagerly, Bithia placed a forkful of seared aket into her mouth and chewed vigorously. “We will learn.”
    He didn’t smile, exactly, but the twin corners of his perfect lips lifted fractionally. What heartened her soul was that he followed suit. Stuffing a big bite of meat into his mouth, he chomped as if he would now willingly eat to keep himself alive to learn. Finally, she’d convinced him he wasn’t doomed to die for displeasing her.
    Again, a small step, but she felt they were making progress. Chewing thoughtfully, she now watched him eat with the same ravenous gusto as she. Good. He would need his strength to keep up with the instructions she wished to give.
    Gods help this Viltori if he dared to thwart her plans.

Chapter Five
    When Drahka entered, his gaze immediately fell on Viltori. His teacher stood wide-eyed in the center of a lavish room filled with puffy furniture, deep green plants and seemingly hundreds of mirrors. Every step Drahka took echoed his form back at him from a different angle, jarring his perception. He wondered if they were purposely placed to make anyone unfamiliar with the room feel unbalanced. He considered Bithia, who strode inside without issue, and thought she had deliberately chosen this place to meet his teacher.
    Dressed in white, Viltori stood out in the mostly crimson room. Blond hair gleamed under golden lights as he nervously clenched and unclenched his brows. Worry ate up all the usual joy that filled his face. When they entered, Viltori’s eyes widened at Bithia, but his panicked expression lessened on a sigh when he saw Drahka. Dark brows smoothed over brown eyes.
    “Drahka, my student,” Viltori said, using Drahka’s native tongue.
    “My teacher.” Drahka reached out to clasp Viltori’s shoulder, as was the custom of his people, but Bithia intercepted him, pushing him back with the palm of her hand to his chest. The red robe her servants had dressed him in bunched below her hand and left a moist spot of heat when she withdrew. As much as Drahka wanted to push her back, he let her have her way, as she was the ruler of this planet. Any move Drahka made that angered her might hurt the teacher who had only tried to help. Drahka would rather die than hurt a man who had never done him wrong.
    “You taught him?” Bithia demanded, striding toward Viltori as she pointed back at Drahka. Her voice was pitched high and hard, only the cushy furniture and fur rugs softened her harsh tone. Clad in a decorative crimson robe, Bithia consumed the massive space with her mighty presence. If she were not his chosen, Bithia would have terrified Drahka. Still, even though she was his, he held a deep respect for her power, her strength, and the fact that she knew exactly what she wanted. And what she wanted right now was an explanation for his failure.
    Eyes going even wider, Viltori nodded. “Have I displeased you?” Viltori bowed low before Bithia. “Forgive me, my lady, as I did my best.”
    Drahka understood what each of them said. Bithia was upset that Drahka didn’t give the right way and Viltori was sorry he hadn’t taught Drahka better. Furious that they were talking about him as if he were not present, Drahka couldn’t summon the power to speak. Diolan and the words of his tribe