By law, every guild in Franome City must not perform business for three days out of every ten day week. The law came over six hundred years before, when merchants ruled the city through fiscal force and the lower classes were about to boil over into revolt. In a desperate measure, the Royal Family declared a law that established the weekend for all guilds and prevented war.
There were exceptions. There were always exceptions. The guilds that were deemed to be critical to the safety and smooth operation of the city could not shut down for more than a single moment. The city guard, technically a guild, was one of them as were the Fire Tenders Guild. And, though no one remembered why, the Whore's Guild was part of that short list.
Because of the law, the Guild operated all twenty hours of the day, ten days a week, and ten weeks a month, and ten months a year. It was open day or night for anyone who needed a quick orgasm, an obscure fetish fulfilled, or simply the comfort of a warm body.
To pull the whores from the streets and lock the brothel doors required posting notices, hundreds of permits, and contingency plans filed with the city. The guild masters of the Whore's Guild rarely took the effort. There was always someone who needed to fuck. But, on a bright summer day, Kirin closed the doors to the guild for a single day. She timed it perfectly when the World Tree rained down petals across the city and the perfumed air was thick without being overpowering.
Officially, the proclamation listed thirty reasons why the Guild needed to shut down, but as far as the members were concerned there was only one reason: Scorch and Nir. The other needs would have been handled with less than an hour of voting, if everyone wasn't drinking until they couldn't stand up.
It was early evening and, despite partying for close to sixteen hours, the Guild was out on the streets surrounding the hall. Shut off from the general public, the guild members let everything free to the fading sun and the warm air. Discarded clothes lined the street and hung from street lamps. Every horizontal surface not used to fuck was filled with discarded mugs of lager and forgotten plates of food. Sex ran just as freely as the alcohol. There was fucking and fingering and fighting, all in good fun.
Merrie was almost overwhelmed by the sexuality surrounding the hall was intense: everyone seemed to be fucking. She saw blow jobs on the corners, fingering against the table, and even twelve men in a fuck chain of cocks and assholes. Surrounding it all were other guild members, laughing and critiquing and drinking heavily.
She panted as she struggled to get through the streets to the hall. Normally her shade was strong enough to push everyone away, but the closeness of the Guild ground down on her desire to be separate. She wanted to reach out and be touched, to be stroked and fingered. She paused long enough to feel jealousy for one of the gang-bang queens who was trying to get a sixth cock into her at the same time. Everyone else was laughing so hard, they were bent over… a dangerous proposition on a street filled with horny whores.
(There are too many people,) grumbled Tamin, (this is not safe.) He walked next to her, shading her from the sun and blocking anyone from stumbling into her. His presence was a comfort, but his discomfort was a sharp pain in her mind. As much as he knew what she wanted, he also needed to protect her. It didn't matter if no one had tried to kill or kidnap her in weeks, he was the constant reminder of the night they killed her master.
Merrie was thankful for his presence and his thoughts. She sent out a pulse of warmth and love to him. (We're safe here. We'll be okay for tonight. And then, we'll return to the shadows.)
They managed to get closer to the guild hall. Through the press of legs, she could see that the windows and doors were packed with people. They were sitting on the windowsills, flashing any and all who asked for it. There were others making out against the columns by the front door.
She spotted a rambunctious game of Queen Says, but the losers had to blow the winners. Though, it was obvious there were no losers in that game. There was also Pin the Tail using cocks and glory holes. The thribans were winning with enthusiasm but the silfae were keeping up with skill and fingering. The street was filled with moans and wet slurps.
Elf was in the middle of one of the catered tables in the streets, spread out naked on a table and covered in sliced fruits. Other prostitutes were plucking the slices off him as he squirmed and giggled. One of the more dour of whores sat on the table, peering over her wire-frame glasses and counting the number of times Elf didn't remain still. He would be punished every time, but everyone knew that Elf was looking forward to being strapped to a table and gang-banged until his wings fluttered.
On the far side, she could see Pristine showing off her skill with her glowing whip. The line of force flicked coins off whore's nipples as they tried to drink while laughing.
Merrie couldn't spot Scorch or Nir, but it was almost impossible with the press of naked flesh. She reached out with her mind, scanning the hall until she sensed Nir sitting on the bar inside the hall, crying with joy and drinking heavily. Scorch sat next to her and burned with pride. His thoughts were blurred with love and beer.
(Alpha, please let me wait for you in the Shadows,) projected Tamin. His discomfort was an ache against her senses. He didn't want to leave her, but he couldn't take it anymore.
She reached over and kissed him. (Be safe.)
He sent a wave of love and affection as he stepped through into the darkness.
Merrie smiled and let the shade spell burn away in the sunlight, exposing her naked body to everyone around her. The crowds pressed in faster than she expected. She whimpered as people stepped closer, no longer being held back by her magic. But, they also didn't see her on her wrists and knees.
Her ears pressing against her head as she looked up at naked cocks and shaved pussies. She tried to reverse the shade, to bring attention to her, but then a man wearing nothing but a cock ring stepped on her tail. She yelped and pulled away, bumping into someone's legs. She slid off and bumped on the ground. Before she could regain her senses, more feet bumped into her and someone stepped on her shin.
As people yelped and jerked back, Merrie fled for a safer spot enough to focus on a Presence spell. She almost made it, but then someone jostled her into the side of a table. She hit the leg with a loud thump and it cracked. A moment later, the table began to buckle as the leg collapsed.
“Oopsie!” cried Elf as he began to fall off the crumbling table.
Merrie looked up to see three meters worth of food sliding toward her in a wave. With a yelp of her own, she tried to jump out of the way, but her body didn't move like she expected it to. Instead, it felt like it melted and flowed into place, pouring into the shadows of the next table without needing more than a millimeter of clearance.
She came to a stop underneath the table and shivered as her body grew solid and thick again, settling down into the familiar shape of two arms, two legs, and the rest of her body. She gasped for breath as she stared through the tablecloth at the devastation the collapsed table had done to the street. There was food everywhere and Elf was in the middle, giggling loudly as he promptly started a food fight.
With a giggle, Merrie concentrated on the liquid feeling of her body. She had experienced it before, but only in combat when someone was about to kill her. Her body never moved that way when she wasn't in danger, but surrounded by waves of sex and excitement, it felt like she was about to turn liquid with nothing but a thought. She licked her lips and concentrated on the flowing sensation, letting it slide across her body and sink into her skin. It was cool and pulsating, like stepping into the Shadows but pulling back right before she crossed over.
Her body tingled as she sank into her spell, feeling herself growing thin along the ground. Her perceptions shifted and she found herself wanting to move, to slid, to crawl. She reached out and she was suddenly rushing across the ground faster than she had ever moved before.
She shot out through the crowds and raced for the hall. Her body felt thin as she curled around legs and arms. With a silent giggle, she rose up along the bodies and ran along breasts and cocks, stroking each one against her skin. It left a wave of pleasure that filled her, not quite an orgasm but enough to put her on edge.
Inside the hall, she dove between legs until she reached the bar at the back. Sliding up, she ran between empty glasses and plates of food until she was next to Nir. It took her a heartbeat to figure out how to release the spell. As it peeled away from her body, her flesh solidified and she filled back into her form. She watched as the shadows faded away to reveal her pale skin and paler hair.
Nir sat on the edge of the bar next to Scorch. She wore nothing but a veil and her body glistened with sweat, pussy juices, and semen. It stuck to her hair and the sheer fabric of the veil clung to her cheek as she held up a large glass of lager and saluted the suddenly silent room.
With his hand on her thigh, Scorch was wearing even less. His cock was half-hard and bobbing with his movements. He had a broad smile, but that was also because his fingers were between Nir's legs, stroking her sex with slow, teasing movements.
Merrie nestled closer to Nir, moving with perfect silence. The room grew hushed as a thousand eyes stared at her. Burning with lust and the need to fuck, she leaned over and delicately kissed Nir's ear.
Nir glanced toward Merrie as she brushed her ear. And then did a double take as Merrie smiled at her. She jerked back into Scorch with a scream that brought laughter from the crowds.
She looked around in confusion before her eyes focused on Merrie. A smile crossed her face. “Bitch!” she squealed and threw herself on Merrie, pulling her into a tight hug. Her small breasts ground against Merrie's larger ones and the movement left little sticky marks along Merrie's body.
On the opposite side, the smell of fire tickled Merrie's senses. Through the curtain of Nir's hair, Merrie saw Scorch glaring at her. He muttered in a low voice, “Damn it, Bitch, don't make her scream like that.”
Merrie gave him an evil smile and nipped Nir's shoulder.
Nir squealed and jerked away.
Scorch rolled his eyes and pulled Nir from Merrie. “Bad girl.”
Merrie's tail wagged back and forth from the curl of pleasure rising up from her pussy. Her skin prickled with excitement and she let her tongue hang out as she panted.
Lifting her leg slightly so she could perch on her husband-to-be, Nir said, “Now, be nice to my bridesmaid.”
“You mean, bride-bitch?”
Nir giggled and pulled close, whispering to Scorch. “I'll make you my bitch.”
He smiled and wrapped his arms around her. “I like to see you try.”
They kissed and their affection broke the silence. The crowds roared with cheering.
Merrie felt a presence drawing her attention and turned to look across the room. Mid-way up the stairs, Kirin stood looking at Merrie. Kirin wore her customary corset and nothing else. Her cock swung between her legs, reaching past her knees, and the tip glistened in the light. When their eyes met, the guild mistress lifted her half-full wineglass and gestured for Merrie to follow.
Her tail still wagging, Merrie got on her knees and crawled away. She barely got a step in when two hands grabbed her tail and pulled her back. Whimpering, she turned to see both Scorch and Nir held on to her white tail. As one, they pushed her ass down to the bar and dragged her close.
Merrie's heart thumped louder. Nir leaned into Scorch's shoulder as the fire mage said, “You know we both love you, right?”
She could feel it in their hearts, the warm and compassion for her. They both knew that Merrie was one reason they were together. And their relationship blossomed around her. She smiled and fought the tears. Turning on her ass, she reached up and kissed both of them on the lips. (I love you two.)
Nir peeked out from Scorch's neck. “You have such a pretty voice, it's… rough but sexy.”
Merrie thought about Sable's thoughts. (Smoke and whiskey?)
The teenage girl pulled Merrie into a long kiss, their tongues teasing each other for a moment. As they broke, Nir whispered into the tiny space between their lips. “I would have never been happy if it wasn't for you, my bitch of smoke and shadows. It is the greatest gift you could ever give me: freedom and love.”
Merrie smiled and sent a pulse of love toward both of them. They released her tail and she crawled away. She had to pick her way over half-empty glasses on the bar, but no one questioned her as she traversed the entire length and jumped down at the far end. It was only a few short meters before she was looking up at the guild mistress.
“They are both good kids,” said Kirin, “but I think you and me and Monk need to have a talk.”
Merrie nodded.
From the crowds, someone called out to Kirin. “Mistress! It's time for another round for the marriage gifts? How will they earn it?”
Kirin turned around, her eyes gold with streaks of blue in it. She look at the gathered whores and smiled. “One mark for every crack against the ass. Open handed and there better be a red mark—”
The roof shook with the cheers.
“… on both of their asses.”
Scorch shook his head. “No, no. Not me, please—”
“Oh, Scorchy-poo!” cried Elf as he came bounding in with a fistful of marks and dripping food.
With a groan, Scorch slipped off the bar and bent over. “No butterflies this time!”
The laughter followed Merrie and Kirin as they headed up to Kirin's private office. As they mounted the stairs, the noise quieted until it was barely a whisper at the top of the stairs. The air still shook from the party below, but the sound suppression spells managed to keep the din down. It even muffled the sounds of fucking from the member's rooms.
Kirin stopped at the threshold of her quarters and held up her glass.
Merrie paused, but Kirin gestured her through. Confusion, Merrie stepped across and turned around to watch curiously.
With a wide sweep of her arm, Kirin splashed a line of red wine across the white marble floor. It was a shocking contrast, like blood spilled out on the ground. Coming to the end of the arch, she drained the rest of the glass and took a deep breath.
The floor began to vibrate and Merrie felt power rising up. It felt like a thousand worms crawling along her skin as it rose up and pressed down on her. Her tail dropped to cover her sex and ass even though she knew it was magic and not real creatures dropping on her.
The floor split along the line of wine. Obsidian tendrils stretched out of the crawl, intertwining with each other as they reached for the arch. Merrie's skin crawl with some deep-set fear she didn't know she had. Around Kirin's quarters, she felt warding spells rising up inside the walls and along the floor and ceiling.
The tendrils began to swell out, blocking the entrance completely. They twisted and bulged into obscene shapes, of men and women being impaled by tentacles. Merrie clamped her tail tighter against her nether holes. Even as she watched, she could imagine herself impaled by the very tentacles before her.
The obsidian froze in place. It looked solid as a rock. Warding spells pulsed along the tendrils, protecting the room. Merrie glanced over to the windows and saw more black tendrils blocking every opening. She reached out for the Shadows, but couldn't reach through the sensation of solid walls even between the barriers.
Kirin patted her head as she passed. “I need more wine,” she said. “The wards in this room always take so much energy, but it will stop any eavesdroppers, teleporters, and even,” she looked over her shoulder to smile at Merrie, “little bitches who can step into other dimensions.”
Merrie smiled and blushed. She padded further into the room, following Kirin. As she came around a large couch, she saw it.
A black box sitting in the middle of the table. She had only seen it a few times, mostly in Rakin's memories, but she knew what was inside. Rakin's collar. Her tail clamped even tighter against her body, burrowing its length against her sex as she whimpered.
“Scary isn't it?” said Monk. “It looks so plain, that collar, but it is more terrifying that anything I can comprehend.” The red robed man sat in a chair, his hands steepled together. His lips were turned into a frown, but Merrie couldn't see through the red cloth to see if it reached his eyes.
She gulped and nodded, her eyes drifting back to the box.
Kirin sat down in her chair, opposite of Monk. With a twist of her hip, she set her feet down on the table and stretched her massive cock along her thighs. The flared tip rested on her knees. “And yet here we are, talking about it.”
Merrie's heart pounded in her chest. She inched closer to the box, afraid and drawn to it. Her skin felt tight and tingling as she stared at the plain box. She could picture the collar perfectly, as if it had been burned into her mind. A simple black metal ring split open. It was about as thick as Kirin's smallest finger without a single rune or decoration. She couldn't even feel magic from it, even though she knew from Rakin's memories that there were hundreds of spells enchanting it.
“Remember Monk,” started Kirin, “this isn't our choice.”
Merrie looked up with confusion, first to Kirin and to Monk.
Monk shook his head sharply. “It should be destroyed.”
With a shrug and a nod, Kirin gestured to Merrie. “Tell us, please?”
“I already told you.”
“Yes,” Kirin said as she sipped her wine, “but as the future guild master, you need to learn how to explain to others your opinions. And Bitch needs to know why.”
Monk sighed and leaned forward. “I've been identifying the magics on this collar for the last two months. I've had to bring in more than a few experts, all under oath and geas, for the more esoteric enchantments. But, frankly this thing should be—”
“Monk…” interrupted Kirin.
His head tilted to look at her. “I don't think she is qualified to make this choice.”
“I disagree. Do we need Sari?”
Monk's lips pressed into a thin line. “No,” he said sullenly, “we don't.”
Merrie looked back and forth between them. There was a tension in the air that brought dread rising up from her gut. She glanced at the box. She knew it was terrifying, but Monk's concerns bothered her more.
“I'll start with the beneficial effects, but they are all combined together into a single enchantment that cannot be separated. The good comes with the bad, or more accurately there are some benefits to the collar's horror.”
“So dramatic.”
Monk glared at Kirin. He turned back to Merrie. “For starters, the collar has two regeneration spells.”
Merrie's heart skipped a beat as she remembered the charm at the mill.
“The first is a third circle regeneration bound into the collar. Your healing speed is roughly doubled which will cut recovery time from physical injuries in half. The other regeneration,” he frowned, “is nastier. It is much more powerful, about a hundred-fold increase in healing, but it only triggers with your death.”
Suddenly, Merrie's sphincter was tight enough to break wood. She whimpered and stared at Monk in shock. The hope that rose up with the first spell was utterly crushed as Monk described how it worked.
“It basically keeps your mind alive until your body recovers. However, there is no pain suppression, which means you'll experience the agony of healing at high speed until your own body is capable of surviving on its own. It will be, for a better word, torture.”
"Can it be disrupted? asked Kirin, her eyes were now a brilliant gold.
Monk shook his head. “None of the spells in the collar are breakable by anything short of a god. In fact, it would take a god to kill her permanently. There are also longevity spells buried inside it for both her and her master. He added spells to handle death by asphyxiation and starvation, two weaknesses of most regeneration spells. That isn't to say she can't be killed by choking or starvation. She can be killed, and it would be agony as she died, but she won't remain dead. Once she regains consciousness, though, the one regeneration ceases to function and the lesser-powered regeneration will take over. In the end, she will be nearly impossible to kill but every recovery would be torture.”
Sweat trickled down Merrie's back as she stared at the box. It didn't matter that Monk wasn't addressing her, she could barely focus as she tried to think of the implications Rakin had for her. He was going to hurt her, kill her even. The fantasies of spiking her to the ground or cutting open her stomach were more than an idle fantasy, it was a plan he had prepared for her. Her stomach twisted violently and she trembled with fear.
Monk continued with a wave of his hand. “The second group is a series of enhancement spells that are a felony to use inside Franome outside of war. Rakin must have blown a lot of favors to get some of these, including casting a few of his own. They are tailored specifically for her,” his frown deepened, “including her shadow and psionic magic. There are also physical armor, a secondary mental shield, and enough energy storage for a tenth circle spell. All of them, I'll repeat, are illegal to have active in the city.”
Merrie finally tore her eyes away from box. (How powerful is an tenth circle spell?) She didn't know anything about the formal classification of magic, she just always fucked until she could cast a spell.
“Enough to destroy Franome City,” came the deadpanned response. “It is acknowledged that the first World Tree was created with a tenth circle spell.”
“Please don't do that, Bitch,” chuckled Kirin. “The destroying bit or the creating World Trees.”
Merrie made a strained giggle. (I'm done with destroying hunks of Franome City.)
“We'll see,” muttered Monk. He sighed and gestured to the box. “That's the benefits of the collar, but when compared to the curses in the collar, they are insignificant. I'll start with the most obvious: the geas.”
Merrie whimpered and her tail pressed tighter against her body. (Geas?)
“This is actually the capstone to the collar and why nothing can be taken out without destroying the collar. There is divine magic sealing it. Rakin must have bribed a god to finish the enchantment, but it is still a geas. The only problem is that the geas doesn't allow choice.”
“Choice?” Kirin got up to refill her glass. Merrie didn't remember her drinking it.
“Yes, choice,” sighed Monk. He got up and rubbed his head. “Mortal magic has limits. Every known geas spell has some way of breaking it with varying requirements on the conditions. The geas that currently affects her is released by a simple action instead of the more poetic ones from history. This one has a simple rule—”
(Obey the master of the collar.) Merrie knew it from Rakin's thoughts.
Monk nodded. “Yes, but you won't have a choice. You can't fight until your organs explode out of your body, your skin ignites into flame or melts off, or let your mind crumble like every other geas I'm aware of. You,” he pointed accusingly, “will not have a choice. You will,” he spat out the word, “obey the collar's owner. I can't—”
“Monk,” Kirin said, “please.”
Monk turned on the guild mistress. “No, this is important. She can't say no. If her owner says kill herself, she will. If he says fuck, she will. If he says destroy Franome City, she will kill every living being within fifty kilometers of here until someone stops her, if they can!” Monk's voice cracked as it rose. “She already has enough power to send all of Franome City into the Shadows and this collar will only give her more! She can't—”
Kirin slammed her glass down and barked out his name.
His red robe fluttered and Merrie thought she saw a crimson glow around him, but he didn't say anything. He held out his hand and took a deep breath. And then a second and a third.
The world spun around Merrie. She could barely hear him speak as she stared at the collar, feeling it drawing her attention into it. It scared her more than with every passing second, every spell that Rakin had shoved into it. He was going to bind her forever with it and she barely survived keeping him away. She didn't know and she whimpered loudly as she tried to comprehend the consequences of putting on the collar.
“I'm sorry,” Monk's voice was calm once again, “guild mistress. We're the Whore's Guild. This is a matter of the Artificer's Guild, except they would arrest Bitch as soon as they got the collar. And… I don't trust them not to put it on her. Or sell her to someone to become her owner.”
“I suspected. That is why I asked you to keep it secret.”
“I don't want this responsibility, mistress.”
Kirin smiled and set down a bottle of wine on the table next to her. “I know, Monk, but it is one all three of us have. Do you know which god?”
“One of the intermediate gods of magic is my guess. I'm guessing Misyr or Quinsolin.”
Kirin stared at Merrie in shock.
Merrie knew the answer, though. She didn't understand it from Rakin's memories when she first picked it up, but it welled up. (Misyr.)
“H-How,” Kirin gulped before she continued, “did Rakin get Misyr to help?”
“I don't know, but that is the only way I think that a geas this powerful could be created. It basically duplicates the submission aspect of True Submissives. The collar also creates a telepathic bond, strong enough to cross dimensions and into the Shadows. The range is… well, she won't get out of range. It also removes any chance of free will, that is the part that required a god.”
He sighed and gestured to the black box. “That's it. A very powerful combat charm and effective immortality but you have to give up all free will and all choice when you put it on. And… once you do, it will never come off.”
Merrie's throat was dry. She tried to swallow but couldn't. A whimper rose in her throat as she stared down at the box, trying to wrap her mind around the power the simple, black collar held. The regeneration and enhancements appealed to her, but it was the geas that her mind kept drawing back to. She would lose all choice as she submitted to her master. Rakin wanted to be her master, he wanted to give her a command and know that she would obey it. But she also knew that he wanted her to know she couldn't choose. It was the important part of being an Alpha. She had to submit. If anyone knew that, it would be Rakin. He needed there to be a choice for her powers, but the threat of absolute submission was an effective leash.
She could imagine how he would use it, like a stick if she disobeyed. He would start with simple commands, suck on his cock or lick his ass, but it would quick turn into self-mutilation and suicide.
A tremor coursed through her body followed by a wave of heat. Her skin crawled and began to tingle, just like the days before she bonded. He wasn't going to force the collar on her, he was going to make her submit to it. Break her until she begged to put it around her own neck.
Her lips parted as she began to pant. Rakin was going to give her a choice. He would have told her everything the collar did, because he wanted to see the look in her eyes as she submitted. He would give her a single choice that would change everything.
Merrie couldn't take her eyes off the box. She could feel the power boiling inside her, a heat that burned her from the inside. It wasn't focused on her pussy or her clitoris, but seemed to gather in her heart and chest. It hurt to breathe, but she couldn't stop staring at it.
She had a chance of getting another master. It was a false bond, but it was still closer to anything she had since her master died. She would feel that intimacy again, that need to obey that drove every moment of her life.
“There is—”
“Quiet, Monk, she needs time.”
“She's dripping,” came the icy response.
Merrie continued to stare at the box, but she dropped one arm to her belly. The smooth end of her wrist ran along the taut skin down to her hip. The heat from her sex rose up around her, tickling her senses, but she continued to shift down until her wrist encountered the soaked opening of her sex. It was like fingering a stranger, she couldn't keep both her mind on the painful pleasure and the box at the same time. But, her pussy felt liquid as it drooled around her wrist. The wet splatters of excitement filled the air and sent whiffs of perfumed excitement past her nose.
The lure of having a new master was a drug. She remembered the agony she felt at missing her former master and how much she wanted it back. The despair had been sealed away, but she knew that the collar would heal that wound forever. She would willingly become a slave again, if she found the right master.
“Bitch?” Kirin's voice interrupted her.
Merrie blinked and tore her eyes away from the box. She looked up to see Kirin kneeling next to her, the guild mistress' cock resting on the white marble floor.
“Bitch, are you okay?”
Merrie glanced back at the box with her collar. It was everything she wanted in her life, more than fucking and more than even Tamin. It was submission in a simple black collar. Gulping, she sniffed at the tears in her eyes, but she didn't remember when she started crying.
Kirin smiled and reached up with her hand to brush the tears from Merrie's cheeks. “It's okay. You don't have to choose right now.”
“Actually,” Monk started, “she probably has to choose soon.”
(Why?)
Monk sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I had to get a number of experts to investigate the collar. The spells were far beyond my ken and most of the people I trusted. I found them and offered them a choice, a geas to keep it a secret. Those who refused, I didn't work with. Those who did, I paid for it from guild funds—”
Kirin rolled her eyes and gave a weak chuckle.
“—and gave them the time they needed with the collar. I'm not worried about most of them, but…” He looked down at his lap. “Two days ago, one of my experts was found dead. She,” he sighed and shook his head, “had been tortured into giving up the secrets. Her sisters at the covenant found her when she didn't come down for morning prayer.”
The tingle that coursed along Merrie's skin turned to ice. She could feel dread filling the air and tensed. Monk was about to tell her something terrible.
She could feel his attention on her. He dug into his pocket and pulled out an envelop. “She gave me this along with her report on the collar. Her identification was probably one of the most expensive, I'll admit, but it was modeled after her own work. She also admitted to trying to destroy it, but she couldn't.”
Merrie looked at the envelope. It had only two words written on the front of it: Merrie Golddother. A whine rose in her throat as she began to shake her head. She knew who had died for her, the only woman who knew magical collars and Merrie's true name, Rendi Kivas.
She shook her head as the tears ran down her cheeks. She wanted to deny it, to pretend that Rendi hadn't suffered because of her, but she knew it was true. She could feel it in Monk's words, his thoughts. She sobbed and shook her head, unable to grab the envelope held in front of her.
“Monk?”
Monk set the envelope on the black box. “I'm sorry… Merrie.”
Merrie choked at her name, the pleasure never coming. She shook her head violent. (I never wanted to hurt anyone.) With her thoughts came the memories of Rendi at the mill, including the final days when it became too much for her. (She tried to leave the mill and… because of me, it killed her.)
Kirin wrapped her arms around Merrie. “It will be okay, puppy girl.”
Merrie shook her head, then buried her face into Kirin's shoulder. (She died because of me.)
No one said anything, because there was nothing to say.
She wished that her despair would come back, the horrible darkness that would erase the world. But, she was left alone, caught by something she couldn't stop.
Monk sighed and squeezed his hands together. “I… suggested that we have the guild votes and the marriage ceremony to give us a chance to discuss this in private. I'm afraid…”
Merrie looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks. She wanted to lash out at him, for including Rendi, but she knew he did the best he could. She could feel it in his thoughts but it didn't make the gnawing grief any easier to stomach.
“Monk?”
“Someone was willing to kill a wizard-priest to find out about the collar, torture her to get through the geas. We already know that Mer… Bitch is capable of incredible damage and destruction. History has proven that wars were fought over True Submissives, but she is something else, she's a… an Omega, for a lack of a better word. She is more powerful than any Alpha recorded and she survived the death of her master.” He swallowed. “And now she can bond again. That collar,” he pointed to the box, “will make a king or a dictator. With her powers, the natural enhancement of her master's powers and her own magic, she can destroy a country or make one.”
Kirin's arm around Merrie tightened. “And you don't think the Guild can survive it?”
“Our vault isn't strong enough to stop someone truly dedicated to getting her. And anyone capable of breaking into our vault will kill anyone that gets in their way. That collar and her, as long as she is unbonded, it is a threat. Not only to Bitch's free will, but the safety of this guild and this country. Please don't make her choose, Kirin.” Monk held his hands in a begging position, fingers steepled together.
Merrie pulled herself away from Kirin's group. She gathered up as much determination she could dredge up. (It's my collar.)
“Destroy—”
(I,) she interrupted, (will make that choice.)
“There are forces out there after you. It is dangerous to leave anywhere, not even inside the World Tree. You need to destroy it and soon.”
Merrie stared at the box. (Give me a day. Two at the most and I'll figure out what to do.)
“Bitch,” Kirin whispered, “if you do decide to destroy it, a number of gods of sex owe the guild some favors. They are, as a whole, pretty much useless for these things, but they sleep around as much as we do and would know which powers would be willing to help. It's a long shot, but the Guild is behind you.”
Merrie nodded without smiling. She knew what Kirin and Monk suggested, but she couldn't stomach the idea of destroying it. The lure of having a master again was too great and the others knew it. The only question was, who would she choose to be her master for the rest of her life.