Hiliad's Special Gift Ch. 28-29

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I shudder to realize I didn't give a shout out to my awesome, (literally) editor, Scooter! APPLAUSE!

Based on your comments you were just as frustrated as I was. I emailed them three times. I think 7 days is fine, but 12? Hopefully it'll get better.

All chapters are done except the last one, which only needs to wrap up the story! Yeah!

So thanks for hanging in with me. Thanks for your comments!!

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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The next morning ...

Connee stretched her body long and hard with a deep yawn after she had woken up enough. She did feel rested, but was shocked to discover the gown she was wearing when she trudged into the bathroom to pee. She hadn't remembered changing. But her attention was diverted when she saw a bouquet of lilies resting on the vanity.

She smiled warmly as she read the card. 'Look forward to spending the day with you. Meet me in the parlor room. Just follow your nose. xoxo'

A huge smile was planted on her face from the time she showered and changed to the time she went downstairs. Milton had prepared a Continental breakfast. "Oh, this looks great," she said as she sat down beside him and gave him a good morning kiss.

"You will have a busy day today. We'll have dinner and then a sunset ride. It's beautiful when ..." Connee wasn't listening. She had dived into the food and was eating, gracefully, of course.

When she was finished and sipped her coffee, Milton told her, "Connee, I have decided, if you like, that I would like to join you this evening." She looked at him confused. "I can't bear to be without you, as well."

Her permanent smile grew even wider. "Oh, yes, I would like that."

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"Elisha, concentrate!" Nate yelled.

He had been trying to push their torn and tattered hostage across the room, with limited success. He had been able to send him a few feet back, but Nate was never satisfied.

Hiliad Fildri was a pathetic sight. Fresh, bleeding wounds were etched upon his entire body mixed with dried blood over wounds from the evening before. His eyes were then completely closed from swelling and bruising, his cheeks were also swollen, and he no longer had the strength to stand. He cowered in the center of the room on his knees, weak, hungry, and in agonizing pain.

"Uncle Nate, we've been at this for hours! I can't do it!"

"Yes, you can! You've got to find it within yourself."

Again and again, Elisha worked to push Hiliad. Eventually, Hiliad was lifted off his knees and flew back against the wall, hard. He barely grunted before he collapsed to the floor in a spineless heap. The two Bins roared and gave each other high-fives.

"Well done! Let's get him in the cage and get some dinner."

Hours later, right after sunset, Milton and Connee returned from their horse ride and dinner picnic. "Go upstairs and cleanup for me, my love. Judy has left on the bed what I'd like you to wear tonight. Oh, you never told me whether you like your new hair style."

Running her fingers through the strands of her short-cropped, newly chestnut brown, she commented, "I have to admit it'll take some getting used to."

"I think it flatters your face and complexion so well," he told her then kissed her. "I will be up shortly."

She smiled widely and did as she was told. After showering, she stood in the bathroom mirror drying her hair, which only took a few minutes because it was so short. Putting on her new make-up, she saw something in the corner of her eye through the mirror. She was frightened, of course, thinking someone was in there with her, but she felt no one there. So, she examined it more closely.

The figure was way over six-feet tall with broad, thick muscles, long, blonde hair that surrounded the pale complexion of his face. His eyes were the most spectacular feature, they were the color of the blue sky at the break of sunrise. There was something familiar about the man, and in allowing herself to blink, the image was gone.

There was a twinge in her heart when it vanished that she couldn't explain. Looking back at herself in the mirror, she knew she was meant for Milton, and she was excited about being with him for the first time that night.

When she was finished, she stood by the bed and looked at the beautiful, long, full-length silk-blue gown lying neatly on it. The bodice was a thin lace, just enough to tease an admirer with what was underneath.

Leaving off her panties—after all, she knew she wouldn't be wearing them for long as soon as Milton came to her—she slipped on the gown and stood in front of the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. She hardly recognized herself. But she felt beautiful, and she felt loved. And that's all that mattered to her.

Connee waited anxiously on the bed for Milton, her heart beating faster and faster as the time went by. Finally, there was a knock on the door. "Come in, Thomas."

The door slowly opened, and Milton came to her on the bed, where she stood waiting for him. "Oh, Connee, you are stunning," he said, running his fingers through her hair and kissing her cheek.

"Thomas, I have waited for you for so long," she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"So have I."

Swiftly and gracefully, he picked her up and laid her gently on the bed, lying down beside her. He ran his hand over her shoulders, stomach, thighs, and she sighed at every touch. Kissing her hard and passionately, he suddenly stopped and looked over her face. "What is it? What's bothering you?"

Her eyebrows were furrowed deeply in a frown. "I ... it's just ..." She told him about what she saw earlier in the bathroom mirror.

Milton's face contorted in disappointment and anger. He got off the bed, yanked Connee by her wrist and pulled her out of the bedroom. "Thomas, you're hurting me." He didn't answer as he tugged her downstairs. She was barely able to keep up with him. "Where are you taking me? I don't ... understand."

Going to the basement door, he punched in the combination and carelessly pulled her down the steps. "You will forget about this parasite, Ms. Byers!" he said angrily as they approached the silver cage.

The captive picked its head up, but was barely able to. "Connneeee."

"Do you know him?" Milton asked curtly as he squeezed her hand hard.

She couldn't look at the cage. She could only look at the man she thought loved her. "Why. Are. You. Doing. This?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"Look at it and answer me!"

Reluctantly, Connee turned to the cage. "Yes, I know him," she whispered then looked back at Milton.

"Con ... I knew ..." it moaned.

"And where do you know him from?"

Tears began to build in her eyes. "Last. Night."

"No," it grunted.

'"Who do you love, Ms. Byers?"

"I love you, Thomas!" she insisted with strong conviction in her voice.

He finally released the tension in his shoulders. "And who will you give yourself to this evening?"

"You!" Her body began to shake.

Milton smiled and took her face in his hands. "I'm am sorry, Connee. I had to be sure ... please, don't cry." A moment later she got control of herself. "You will no longer see this creature, I promise you that," he said then led her upstairs.

"No ... Con ... neee ..."

Milton took Connee back to her room and sat her on the bed. She hadn't cried since they left the basement, but she was still tense.

"Oh, Connee," he said, his voice soft and soothing, "I didn't mean to upset you. I am far from perfect, but you know that I love you, don't you?"

"Yes," she replied, looking into his face. "You just ... scared me."

"I am so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?" he asked with a crooked smile.

"Kiss me, and I'll think about it."

Milton placed his hand behind her head and smashed her face into his, kissing her with much fervor. Pushing her back on the bed, his feet still on the carpeted floor, he ran his hand up her thigh, kneading her flesh and nibbling her neck. She let out a giggle before her body relaxed and she returned his affection. The temperature in the room heated up two-fold.

"Thomas, make love to me," she pleaded breathlessly.

Kissing his way down her chest to her crotch, he spread her legs wide. She moaned and threw back her head, anticipating what was to come ...

Hiliad's POV:

My body was no longer on fire, but was completely numb—numb with pain, and lack of restful sleep. I needed desperately to stretch my legs, though that would hardly make a difference. The last vision imprinted on my brain was Connee, only seemingly minutes earlier. When I saw her through my blurred and narrow eyes, I didn't even recognize her. It was my Connee, yes, but she wasn't there. And she'd kissed him! I wanted to kill the son of a bitch!

Making love to her would be the last thing on my mind as my body grew weaker and weaker, my will to live dimmer and dimmer. I had never felt so helpless in my life. I was a coward for not finding strength in myself to fight. I knew, along with Connee's submission to Milton, that I no longer had any fight left. No longer did I care if I lived. I wanted to die. I prayed for death. And to think my last days were spent in agonizing torture.

"Open the cage," came a female voice suddenly.

Two strong arms pulled my body out of the cage and threw me on the cold, concrete floor. I hadn't felt cold in over a thousand years, and here I was shivering.

"Careful! Remove the chains," the woman spoke. She sounded familiar. I only knew then it wasn't Connee.

My wrists were sliced open anew as the silver chains were taken from my flesh, ripping and tearing like they were being amputated. I didn't even have the strength to groan in pain.

A shadow knelt down beside me, and said, "Hiliad Fildri, you need to feed. Nate ..."

Nate, the man that tortured me? I will take nothing from him!

I heard a deep, throaty moan, though I still couldn't see farther than an ant's body length. She pulled me up in a sitting position and rested me against her, curling her arms under my arm pits and pressing onto my shoulders securely.

Someone sat beside me, Nate, I assumed, and pressed his neck over my mouth. I could feel the pulse of his heart racing fast against my lips. I wanted to tear into him—bite and chew his flesh until he cried for mercy. He would receive none from me.

But when I felt the warmth of his blood trickle onto my chin, I lapped it away, and instantly needed more. Sucking his life source from him, I drank and drank. Some strength returned to me, and I leaned forward, loosening the grip the woman had on me, and pressed him closer to me.

"Hiliad," she said towering about me, "I must leave you now. When you able to, meet me upstairs. Drain him, if you wish."

I hardly paid attention to her words, but I did look up at her, then able to open my eyes further, although it was difficult to focus. Queen Francesca. She was the one that had rescued me.

I watched her walk away before I dove back into Nate's neck, fully intending to completely drain the bastard.

THIRD PERSON:

Milton, then completely nude, with the skirt of the gown at Connee's waist, was about to enter her when there was an urgent knock on the door. "Mr. Milton, Sir, I am sorry to intrude, but—"

"Go away!" he barked before he turned his attention back to Connee.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but Queen Francesca is downstairs. She says there is an urgent matter—"

"Shit. Fine!"

"No, no, Thomas," Connee whined. "Please, I want you to stay!"

"As do I, but I promise I will only be gone for a few minutes." He brushed the hair away from her face and kissed her before he dressed and left her alone.

Connee had to take a few minutes lying in bed to get her breathing back to normal. With what Milton had been doing to her—making her cum while going down on her—she started to panic about how badly her make-up must have looked.

Slipping her legs off the bed, she tested her shaking legs before she padded to the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She gasped when she saw her eyeliner and mascara had left dark smears under her eyes, so she started to fix herself up. Feeling like a school girl, she giggled when she thought of Milton, and anxiously awaited his return.

Deciding it best if she removed her make-up completely, considering it would only get worse with what Milton was sure to do to her, she ran the water and scrubbed her face with facial soap. Her eyes closed, she splashed the warm water on her face and glanced into the mirror.

It was the face of the same man that she'd seen earlier, but she couldn't be sure. His face was all scarred and bloody, and it gave her the chills. But not from his appearance. She knew him. She felt him.

"Hiliad ..."

Connee's POV:

I turned around, expecting Hiliad to be standing behind me, but He wasn't. Looking back into the mirror, the reflection was gone as well. "No, no, Hiliad," I whined, and felt my body collapse to the floor.

He was gone—dead. I was imagining what Milton had done to him ... Milton. We were about to ... I sobbed like I'd never cried before, my body shaking, curled in a fetal position. I was about to give myself to the sick animal! I shuddered more and cried for what felt like hours.

Still crying, but at least I was no longer shaking, I came to only one conclusion. I pulled myself up at the sink, searched for the razor blade I'd seen earlier, and pulled it out of the handle. I ran my finger over the sharp blade to make sure it was fresh, and winced at the slice in the pad of my finger. I smiled, remembering the many times I'd allowed Hiliad to feed from me. But the blood that fell from me then I did not want back.

With purpose and clear intention, I ran the bath water, not even caring what the temperature was. I got in the tub and leaned against the end, still wearing the gown. Through slightly blurry vision, I brought my wrist up to my face, the other hand holding the blade to the blue vein, and I dug the blade into my thin skin.

The amazing thing was that I didn't feel any pain. No whatsoever. Blood immediately trailed down my forearm. But I wasn't done. Switching hands with the blade, I sliced into that wrist. Again, it was painless.

No longer crying, no longer caring, I rested my hands over my breasts and waited to feel my body become weak, as it had when Hiliad drank from me. It was the exact same feeling, though my heart felt empty.

I smiled, knowing I would see my beloved again. I waited to hold Him in my arms again—and forever.

Hiliad's POV:

Nate's limp body finally collapsed in my arms. I promptly threw his body to the ground like it was a rag doll. He would receive no new life from me. Wiping my mouth on his cotton shirt, I then gave his side one solid kick with my bare foot just for good measure.

I then raced upstairs and met the queen in the parlor with Milton, who was sitting on the couch. He was sweating and shaking, avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room.

An elderly woman was standing against the window, which was open, and I could see it was dark outside. Elisha was standing beside her, her arm protectively around him. He looked to be in his mid-twenties and petrified. Glaring at the man I assumed was Milton, I flew in his direction, intending to tear his body limb from limb.

But I was quickly knocked against the wall hard by a source I didn't feel. Having just enough blood to get my strength back, I regained my footing and stood staring at the queen, who was just bringing her arm down. "Where's Connee?" I bellowed.

"Sit, please," she instructed.

I had to calm myself down because that was the last thing I wanted at that moment. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, I must ..."

"And you will." She watched as I reluctantly sat down at the farthest chair from Milton. I was still filled with rage towards him. "Have you had enough from Nate?" she asked, her voice conveying concern.

"Yes, he is dead," I told her.

I noticed Milton wince and lean back heavily against the cushion, and Elisha wailed, grabbing onto the woman tightly.

"I am sorry for your loss, Thomas and Elisha," she told them. What the hell? She then looked at me. "Nate was Thomas's brother; Nate's son is Elisha, Hiliad. I owe you a tremendous apology. I had directed them not to harm you, but Nate never listened to anyone."

"He did more for you—" Milton started, but the queen waved him off. He cowered against the couch.

"I am sorry for taking you in my home and showing you such poor hospitality. I certainly wasn't raised in such a manner."

I couldn't have given a rat's ass how she was raised.

"When I originally proposed all of this to Thomas, he assured me you would not be harmed. And he will pay dearly for that by his people, as will Doug and Dani. Initially when we spoke, I couldn't have cared less what your problem was. I had no intention of assisting you, for reasons I had explained at that time. But when you called and told me her name, I had to verify it was her."

"It was her?" I repeated, confused. "You know Connee?" That explained why she needed a photo.

She didn't answer my question. "I was fully aware of Thomas's intention—of having Connee as his own only. I was not aware of his sacrifice of you after their marriage. With their union, I was assured Connee would be near me."

"Why?"

"That is something I will need to explain to Connee, and Connee only."

"She is alive, yes?" I asked, for the first time hopeful I would see her again.

"Yes, and she is well. She was given great care by Thomas. She was clothed and fed."

"Did you take her?" I shouted at Milton. His hands shook in his lap, tears falling down his cheeks. Whether he was scared or mourning his loss, I couldn't have cared less. Bearing my fangs, I shouted, "Did you fuck her!?"

I scooted towards the edge of the cushion, but knew far too well that the queen could cause more harm to my body that might take too long to heal.

"Hiliad Fildri! You will not use that language in my presence!" the queen snapped then relaxed, and her voice softened. "When I spoke to you on your arrival earlier yesterday morning, I could feel the love you have for Connee. I was beginning to question my motives."

Oh, good for you.

"Watch yourself, Hiliad. Remember, I can read your thoughts." She paced a few steps before she said, "Judy contacted me shortly after sunset this evening and told me of the situation here in this house. You must know how infuriated I was. I had very little time, knowing ..." Her shoulders shivered at the thought of Milton raping Connee before their wedding.

The front door burst open and five men came in, the front man brandishing a rifle. "Thomas Milton, come with us."

The bastard slowly stood and looked at Elisha, who was still cradled in the woman's arms. She shook her head. Milton's head sunk to the floor in shame. As Milton approached the man, he stuck the rifle in his back as they walked into the hallway and out the door.

"They are Bintaurs. He has been a pain in their butts for years. They will take care of him."

That did little to comfort me. "Your Majesty, may I ..." I got an instant sick feeling in my stomach. Something was wrong, dreadfully wrong. I stood and confronted the queen. "Connee? Where is she?"

"Upstairs in one of the bedrooms. We will remain here while you retrieve her."

I flew up the stairs as fast as I could, calling out her name and opening two doors before my gut led me to the bedroom at the end of the hall. Not being concerned with whether it was locked or not, I kicked it in with all the force I could muster.

"Connee, Connee! Answer me!"

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Connee's POV:

I was in a happy place. My body was numb, and I felt light-headed. I had looked at the bath water surrounding me a few times, and wasn't even appalled as I lay in blood-red water. It was my own blood, my blood that I have spilled to be with Hiliad.