The Beginning of Everything Read online Kristen Ashley (The Rising #1)

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Rising Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
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“Can those of us who want it use his arse before we go?” a voice Drey knew requested, and he winced when he flexed that area on his person as his answer to that.

“No,” Seph thankfully replied.

“Can we use his face?” a different voice he also knew asked.

“For fuck’s sake, fuck each other and stop bothering me with this absurdity,” Seph said on a sigh.

Drey heard shuffling feet and whispering robes, some of the candles were extinguished, and when the noises were mostly gone, he heard Seph order softly from a new position at his other end, “The recruits don’t enter until they have my leave.”

“Yes, my liege,” a voice replied.

Drey belatedly started trembling.

He heard a heavy door close.

But he knew he’d been left alone with Seph.

His liege.

At least…there. In Firenze. Where Seph was in charge of this part of The Rising.

There was silence.

Drey continued to tremble.

And he waited.

Seph finally spoke.

“You have a lover in Go’Doan, do you not?”

“Y-yes,” Drey answered.

“He is of The Rising,” Seph remarked.

“Y-yes. H-he recruited me.”

His voice was contemplative when he noted, “Yes. Our brother G’Fenn. Alas, it is unfortunate Fenn will lose his hole.”

After delivering that, an unmistakable noise came forth and Drey closed his eyes against it, thankful the flesh of his backside was so raw, he barely felt it, only felt the sting of the salt when Seph’s seed he’d milked through his own hand landed on it.

“I own you now, brother,” Seph whispered thickly. “I am no warrior, but trust me, I will use you well.”

Drey said nothing but the trembling did not stop when he heard the heavy door open and shut.

But what he thought was that his lover was far more powerful than Seph.

And Fenn would not like his “hole” used and definitely not abused.

He liked Drey’s bottom as it had been.

So when they were joined by Drey’s chosen, they would see who owned who.

And G’Drey filed vengeance against Seph amongst the other transgressions that would eventually have his attention.

Not to mention, the two of his brethren who had sought to use him against his will.

But first, they had an assassination to carry forth.

For nothing was as important as The Rising.

15

The Procession

King Mars Laches

The Crown Prince’s Bedchamber, Second Floor, West Corridor, Catrame Palace, Fire City

FIRENZE

“The queen, my king.”

Mars looked from tying the laces at the side of his waist to the servant boy who was speaking.

“Allow her entry,” he murmured, thinking that very soon, when anyone mentioned “the queen,” they would be referring to a different person.

A Dellish.

His clever, little monkey with a soul of molten silver.

And he did not mind this.

On this thought, his mother moved into his rooms and he turned his attention to her.

Using the creams and lotions and elixirs of their land since she was a maiden, her beautiful face was nearly unlined, simply a few across her forehead.

However, two small indents at the bridge of her nose had appeared since his father died.

Her hair was mostly black, with but a silver thread here and there.

And for the night’s events, she wore a long-sleeved choli top covered in a profuse pattern of jet beads, the same beads at her waist and hips, from which flowed the sheers of her skirt that exposed her legs encased in leggings that ended at her ankle. Her feet were in beaded, flat sandals.

All of this was black.

Mars most definitely tired of all the black.

The extravagant ruby necklace at her neck was the only thing Mars liked.

He did not share that with his mother.

When his attention returned to her face, he saw she was running her eyes over him as well.

“So, you’ve decided. You’re changing the Firenz uniform, moving away from the blades,” she remarked.

“We ordered a number of these,” he replied. “They came with Cassius’s envoy. Only my men for now. We’ll then assess. But the leather of Airen is the best in all lands and they’ve made some improvements to their leather armor, which was already exceptional.” As he caught the look on her face, he shared, “It’s not as constricting as you’d think.”

“I shall miss the blades,” she murmured, stopping in front of him.

His father wore the blades, as did her father, as did her son.

It was time, in many ways, to move from olden things.

Ares had taught him that.

“It’s handsome,” she said, lifting a hand and resting it on his chest.

Mars couldn’t argue that.

A sleeveless, sandstone-colored leather upper that had no collar and fit to his skin closely. He was able to don it by loosening the leather laces at the sides. Trousers of the same, though buttoning at the crotch, therefore no laces.

But he wore his sandals laced up the leather at his calves. He was not yet ready for the heat and rubbing of boots.

“And I quite like the mantle,” his mother went on.

As did he.



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