A/N: Hello lovely people! These chapters were prewritten and I can't resist posting them quickly. But I'll be travelling to Germany tomorrow, and won't have my laptop, so this is the last one this week - and I caught the flu. Eek! Hope you're all doing well and staying healthy. Remember ginger and lemon is a cure-all 💚 Let me know if you like this story ^^

Chapter 4.

"De." A kiss brushed over his nape. "Wake up."

Fingertips smoothed back his hair and it felt so good, Deon wanted to remain right where he was. He was more comfortable than he had been in nine months on that wretched ship and he thought he could sleep for a week. A hand gripped his shoulder and shook gently.

"Deon. He's asked for you."

The words brought on a wave of anxiety and Deon's sore eyes opened. He sat up.

Alen smiled at him, dark eyes soft and Deon forgot the words he'd meant to say. His brother was wearing that ridiculous belt again, and Deon wanted to kiss his red mouth with a need that made his hands clench into the silks.

They had touched each other for the first time the previous day and irreversibly changed their relationship. And Deon was afraid, because he'd never heard of anyone living like them and surviving. His brother's smile faded and his body tensed.

"Regrets?" Alen breathed.

Deon thought about it a moment, then shook his head. He loved Alen, plain and simple. He wouldn't regret that. He refused to.

Alen's breath gushed out in relief and he hugged Deon tight. The twins held each other and Deon pressed his lips against Alen's temple - savoring the feel of him and the time they had. For now.

"Come on." Alen finally whispered. "I let you sleep for too long."

Alen pulled Deon to his feet and allowed him a quick drink of water and a bite of fruit. "Hurry!"

They rushed to the pools and Deon's skin was scrubbed and oiled again. He had never been this clean in his entire life. Back at the farm they had washed maybe once a week. Sometimes less during the winter, when the water was freezing.

Boys were splashing around the pools, dark limbs smooth and gleaming. Some of them pleasured each other and Deon kept his eyes carefully averted.

Yesterday he had been lightheaded with hunger and adrenaline. But now he felt the boys attention on him and it made his skin itch. He wasn't used to so many people.

Alen took his hand and led him swiftly down the halls to a room flanked by guards. Before they entered his brother tugged him to a halt and looked him in the eye.

"De, no matter what he says, I want you to do it. It might be difficult at first, but he'll be kind. As long as you obey." Alen's gaze was dark and solemn.

Deon stared and felt his heart quicken. He knew this was coming. He'd seen it with his own eyes. But it was all happening so fast and it didn't feel real.

"I don't know if I can." He said truthfully.

"For me you can." Alen squeezed his palm. "You'll feel good. I promise."

"Len..."

But Alen was already opening the door to an opulent room with high ceilings and stone pillars. Floral bouquets perfumed the air and servants lined the walls, still as statues, apart from one who poured wine into cups on a black stone table.

A balcony let in chilled air from a fountain and the prince was sprawled on a chair, conversing with two men. Roi was in the prince's lap, nuzzling his neck and another boy sat by his feet. One of the men had a girl in his arms and two more girls were on the floor, feeding each other fruits and giggling.

The room quieted when they entered and the men looked up. Deon's skin tightened with apprehension and he was thankful that, at the very least, he wasn't the only one naked.

One of the men grinned with delight and spoke to the prince. He was older, perhaps in his forties. He wore the same white kilt as the prince and gold jewelry adorned his arms and neck.

The girl on his thighs stirred and stretched like a pampered cat. Her body was golden and plump, with black hair falling to her round hips.

"You kept me waiting." The prince nudged Roi off his knee and the blonde sat by his feet with a small frown.

"Come here." The prince extended a hand to Alen.

Alen released Deon instantly and straddled the prince's lap. He twined his arms around the man's broad shoulders and kissed him. Deon felt as though he'd been stabbed in the chest.

His breaths became shallow and his palms grew damp. He couldn't do this. He didn't know why he imagined it was possible for him to share. And it hurt terribly that Alen didn't feel the same way.

The prince lifted his head, brown hands gripping Alen's firm buttocks, and watched Deon with cool calculation. One of the men murmured to the other and they both laughed. The prince smiled slightly, but his eyes remained on Deon.

"You don't like me touching him?" He said and deliberately stroked Alen's cock.

His brother sighed sweetly and moved his hips. But Deon saw the tension in his slender shoulders and knew Alen was concerned for him.

Deon let his eyes drop to the intricate black patterns on the stone floor and breathed deeply through his nose.

One. Two. Three...

"Look at me." The prince commanded.

Deon didn't. He couldn't.

Four. Five. Six...

He heard a shift of movement and felt the warmth of a body close to him.

"Seyin, are you afraid or are you proud?" Jeweled fingers cupped his chin and it took all of Deon's self-control not to bite them off. His face was lifted and he glared up at the prince.

He was around a decade older than Deon. No more than twenty-six. His cheekbones and jaw were sharp, but his mouth was soft and full. Ice grey eyes examined Deon intently and the prince's lip quirked. "It is both, I think."

The hand on his chin stroked his cheek and Deon knocked it away. He heard Alen's sharp inhale, but he didn't care. His muscles trembled with the need to fight. To hurt.

The prince looked astonished for an instant and then his expression hardened. The men laughed again and one of them spoke in Telenien, for Deon's benefit no doubt.

"He needs to be tamed!"

The prince barked out a command and guards gripped Deon's arms and dragged him to the center of the room. There was a whistle of sound through the air and a whip burned across his back.

The pain knocked the air from his lungs and Deon gasped. It hurt. God, it hurt. Much worse than his father's belt.

The whip struck again. And again.

Deon counted five lashes before he whimpered. Each strike felt like a brand and his body shook.

By ten lashes he was sagging in the guards hands and he started to sob. By the fifteenth he was screaming and then it ended.

His head was hanging low and his breaths were ragged. His skin was wet with sweat and his back felt like it was lit on fire.

Slender brown feet moved into his line of sight and a cool hand cupped his cheek.

"Calm now?" The prince murmured and smoothed back the damp stands from Deon's face. He felt empty and strangely euphoric. As if all the rage and frustration had burned out.

The prince leaned in and kissed Deon's slack mouth. A gentle pressure of lips and a warm slide of tongue. It felt almost...tender.

The man released him and Deon was lifted. His back flared with agony and he didn't remember the guards moving him to a shadowed room or placing him on a bed.

He woke to sheets smelling like mint and panted through the pain. A woman spoke softly above him and a cloth ran like knives over his spine. He fainted.

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Some time later, a wad of moistened fabric pressed to his lips and he drank water. Small pinches of meat and vegetables followed next. Deon chewed, with his eyes closed, and thought of a similar time; when their roles were reversed.

"De?" Alen whispered and stroked Deon's arm - fingertips trailing lightly down to his wrist and back up to his shoulder.

Deon remained silent, but his eyes opened and he stared at the white curtain veiling the bed. He was angry again.

Angry at his brother for being so selfish. Angry at the prince for humiliating him. And he was afraid, because he was powerless to do anything about it.

A gentle hand ran over his hair and soft kisses warmed his neck. 

"I love you." Alen whispered.

Deon took a slow breath for patience. Alen laced their fingers and his kisses moved to Deon's cheek.

"I want to leave." Deon breathed and Alen's lips stilled. The grip on his fingers tightened.

"De..."

"You could come with me." Deon continued quietly. "I would work to keep us fed. It wouldn't be much, but...we would have each other."

Alen was quiet for a long moment and then he stroked Deon's hair again, fingers gliding slowly through the dark strands.

"We can't leave, De. He owns us. And I want to be able to show how I feel about you." Alen murmured and feathered his lips across Deon's temple.

"You just want to fuck him." Deon said bitterly and Alen stiffened. His touch ripped away and Deon felt cold.

"At least I'm true to myself! I don't hide behind violence." Alen hissed viciously and stormed out.

Deon swallowed tightly and tears ran down his cheeks. He willed the anger to return - to protect him - but it was gone.