Series: Across the Stars; Related Books: Across the Stars and The Gladiator and the Thief

Lócarë Sereth has made punishing Fyn Du-ket her life's goal. The man defiled her beloved sister, turning her into a submissive slut. Now it was Du-ket's turn to get a taste of his own medicine, because Lócarë intended to do to him all of the humiliating things he'd done to her sister.

Angry that he'd allowed a mere woman to take him hostage, Fyn Du-ket vows to turn the tables on his prim captor. As a skilled trainer of submissive slaves, he'd show her exactly how good it felt to be bad. Oh, yes, she succumbs, but there's a slight hitch in the plan: he never realized he could become a slave. To love.

Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: BDSM theme and elements, dubious consent.

Xat-Rah

The home of Fyn Du-ket

Fyn Du-ket was first and foremost an unquestionable rogue. Of course, he hadn't always been that way. At one time, he'd been a young man desperately in love with a girl he'd admired from afar, but fate had intervened, and he found himself a wanted man. Wanted for a crime he hadn't committed--a crime that set him on the path he'd happily trod some ten odd years.

During that ten-year span of time, he'd gotten over the girl who had become a woman whose main purpose in life was to pursue him, to seek justice for the innocent lives taken in his name. Now, that woman was married to his half brother, Raav Asirian, a marriage he'd performed himself, and they'd just completed a mission that had saved innumerable lives. Fyn shook his head and laughed at the incongruity of life. He stood on the beach and watched his brother and sister-in-law board their ship. With a final wave, he turned and walked back to his house.

Tomorrow he would begin searching for a missing young woman. While the nature of the job didn't excite him, the fee would substantially inflate his bank account, something he now had to consider. He cued the video transmission one last time, looking at the face of the woman who'd hired him. She wore her hair in a tight bun, and spectacles too large for her face perched precariously on her small nose. There was nothing particularly alluring about the woman, but there was a familiarity about her that nagged at him. He'd seen that face before, but where?

Chapter One

Locare Sereth paced her sleeping accommodation above the common room at the Full Stein Inn. The place was noisy and crowded, and the men had leered when she'd entered and paid for the room for two nights. Ribald offers of service flowed over her as she crossed to the stairs. She chose the room carefully to meet her needs, with access to a fire escape leading off the balcony.

She'd deliberately chosen an out-of-the-way meeting place, somewhere people wouldn't pay close attention to a man of Fyn Du-ket's caliber. The taste of his name on her lips soured the wine as it crossed her tongue. The man was despicable. The fact that he still lived after the lives he'd ruined was an outrage that made her blood boil. He should have been castrated the moment he'd turned himself in to the authorities. But no. The bastard had offered monetary reparations, and the magistrate had accepted on behalf of the council, the greedy bastards. She'd protested the pirate's pardon, but the council had turned deaf ears to her pleas. Too bad, so sad. After all, where was the harm in what he'd done? It hardly mattered that the man had ruined her sister's life--had made her a virtual sex slave to the dissolute prick to whom she was now married.

"Soon, Nera," she said as she paced the room. "Soon you shall have your revenge."

Locare and her sister, Nera, had lived sheltered lives. Their knowledge of men was limited to the loving care of a doting father and protective brother. With the untimely death of their mother, any chance they might have had to learn the true nature of men had been taken from them. For the sisters, hidden behind the walls of a rich merchant's estate, any mention of sex had been a taboo subject, even on Nera's wedding day. At twenty-three, Locare had been as ignorant of the ways of men as her younger sister and, therefore, had no womanly advice to give her sister except to let her husband guide her. Nera left her father's home an innocent young bride and returned to Agovea an accomplished siren, trained by none other than Fyn Du-ket.

The stories Nera told were the stuff of nightmares--a wedding night filled with pain and tears, her husband sending her to Du-ket to learn how to satisfy his appetites, the fear, then the revelation that pain could be an erotic tool to enhance pleasure. Locare had been sickened by Nera's tales of depraved sex acts and her husband's gifting of her to honored guests. Yes, Kamil was to blame, and he too would answer, but first Du-ket would get a taste of his own medicine.

The twisted bastard. Nera actually wore a golden collar and sat at her husband's feet. At his feet, as though she were some kind of pet! Locare jumped at the sound of a heavy knock at the door. She met the determined gaze of her manservant and nodded. The heavily muscled servant slipped out onto the balcony as Locare went to the door.

"Who's there?" She patted the tightly coiled bun at her nape and slid a pair of spectacles into place. A small disguise but enough for a man as superficial as the one waiting outside her door.

"Fyn Du-ket, lady. I believe you're expecting me."

"Indeed." She pasted on a welcoming smile and swung the door open. His big frame filled the doorway while brilliant green eyes assessed her with a distinct lack of interest. He didn't find her attractive, which was fine with her. She stepped aside.

"Captain Du-ket, do come in." Said the spider to the fly. "I'm very pleased to see you."

She gestured him into the room, suppressing a shiver. Gods he smelled good, like fresh lemons and the scent of the sea breeze. I will not find him attractive. The prettier the package, the more dangerous the gift. The Agovea pit viper was a brightly colored, exotically patterned snake, but it was also the most deadly. Its bite meant instant death. She'd do well to remember that when dealing with the infamous pirate. "May I offer you some refreshment? Some wine, perhaps?"

"Wine would be nice, thank you--Miss Sereth, is it?"

"It is, but you must call me Locare." She poured the wine and handed him a specially treated glass.

"Aren't you going to join me?" the pirate asked pointedly.

So, he was suspicious, was he? With good reason, to be sure. A man like him would have made many enemies over the years. She poured herself a glass to dispel his unease.

"This is a very nice wine." She held the glass up to the light. Her voice was steady, conversational, even. "Comes from my father's vineyard." She swirled the contents of her glass and sniffed. "There's just a hint of sweetness to subdue the dryness of the grape, but not so much as to overwhelm the palate."

Du-ket took a sip, nodding politely. "It's quite good." He drank again, blinked once and shook his head in attempt to dislodge the effects of the highly potent sedative coating the interior of his glass. She laughed when his eyes narrowed. "What the hell have you done?"

Locare crossed the room and stood before him. He didn't look so fierce now. She could handle him. "Feeling woozy, Captain Du-ket? I expect you are. I had to give you a fairly large dose, but don't worry, it shouldn't kill you."

"Who the hell--"

He staggered toward her, and she sidestepped, not bothering to try to catch him as he crashed to the floor. She looked up as her manservant entered the room.