Chapter 1

The stench of the room was overpowering, as was the damp chill that permeated the air around her. For days she had been held in this dank room with little light, chained to a cold, stone altar. The priests surrounding the altar were all chanting their spells, which reminded her of the buzzing of a thousand bees. And like a hive of bees, they followed the lead of the queen, or in this case, their priest.

Blood pulsed in her ears as High Priest Duartar began chanting the spell that would forever change her life. He again raised the goblet to her lips and poured the pungent liquid down her throat, spilling it onto her chin and neck. Trying to fight the numbing effects of the potion, she forced herself to retch it up and gained small satisfaction as she spit it onto Duartar's immaculate white robe. Her long hair tangled as she thrashed back and forth trying to fight him off when he brutally grabbed hold of her breast in a small, fat fist. There was a moment of stark terror that came over her when he pulled a wicked looking dagger from his robes and split the front of her gown, exposing her full breasts.

Zahinah knew she had to fight him, yet the potion he had force-fed her rendered her magic useless. Impotent rage welled within her as he began to suckle from her breasts. With one last show of defiance, she muttered a spell which would send his manhood withering into absolute uselessness. She gained a moment of satisfaction when she heard the little toad curse and begin fumbling with his robes. "Not so powerful when it shrivels up like wilted fruit on a vine, is it, Duartar?"

"You…filthy little whore." He grabbed the goblet of potion again and forced her mouth open pouring more of the concoction down her throat. "I do not have to use my penis to tear your virgin's skin. There are many other ways… although my magic is much stronger than yours and I ache for you. I will make you mine, daughter of the gods."

Zahinah feared that statement more than his threat to rape her by other means. She wasn't afraid of being raped, but she was terrified of what his magic could do to her. She turned her head and watched as he walked over to his table and began mixing herbs and potions into a golden goblet, which he filled with red wine and drank. Walking back to where she was tied, she couldn't help but notice his erection growing larger than it had been before. Where were the gods and their protection now that she so desperately needed them? This could not be happening to her. This was not to be the method of her death.

In absolute futility, Zahinah thrashed about as much as her bonds would allow. Zahinah watched as Duartar climbed the altar, then reached out and tore her gown completely off her, exposing her long lithe body, large full breasts and the raven curls at the juncture of her thighs. As she lay exposed for all the priests in the room to gaze upon, she watched as many began to stroke themselves through their robes, some even pulling their stiff members from their confinements to rub and push into their hands in imitation of the sex act. Zahinah lay there with a blinding rage building within her. With her magic gone, she was unable to stop Duartar from rubbing her and himself as he chanted an ancient spell that would give him her powers once he took her virginity and then her life.

Zahinah thought with irony that had she known she would be taken this way for her powers over the elements of the earth, she would gladly have given herself to Azhaar as he had begged her. Now, she would never know real passion. She would never experience the feeling of a virile, strong, young man taking her, moving within her, or what it would feel like to climax. She would only know the cold touch of an impotent little man who resembled a toad.

Zahinah could feel the effects of the potion Duartar had forced her to consume; she was powerless to fight the wetness pulsing from her woman's opening as Duartar stroked her. She knew her time was close to ending when he noticed how wet she had become. Sliding his fingers inside her, he began to mimic entering her. Against her will, she began to moan, and her womanly bud began to throb with his stroking, there was an aching need building within her. It was useless to fight him, and she was beginning to surrender to the spell he had cast over her body, but not yet her mind.

A smile of satisfaction she wanted to slap off his face came over him as he whispered into her ear, "Your will to resist is gone, Zahinah. You are wet for me…beg me to enter you and give me your powers." Climbing the altar, Duartar coaxed her as he mounted her young, strong body with his small and fat form. His erection was thick and throbbing at her entrance. She knew in order for him to gain what he desired, she would have to willingly take him inside her.

Zahinah tried to fight him, to find the words that would deny him his goal, but it was useless. His magic was overcoming her powers of resistance. She was going to say the words that would seal her death. She cast one last glance at the other priests in the room and her eyes landed on the only one who wasn't stroking his stiff erection, the one with the golden eyes. There was a power in him she could feel, even over the effects of the potion. Her eyes met his and she suddenly wanted him to take her. Zahinah looked back into the cold black eyes and soul of Duartar and smiled. "I will take him inside me and give him what you crave." Zahinah nodded toward the priest who was watching her intently.

Duartar turned just in time to watch as the hooded priest changed from a man into a beast of the forests. Zahinah had no time to think as the animal lunged for Duartar, knocking his naked form from Zahinah's body and effectively preventing him from entering her. The animal swiped a paw with claws bared across Duartar's chest and face, laying him open and bleeding. Zahinah began to quake with fear as the animal then turned its golden gaze upon her and slashed the ropes binding her. There was no protest forthcoming as the great animal again changed back into the man she had noticed before and slung her over his shoulder. He leaped onto the window ledge overlooking the watery deep surrounding the temple. Then he jumped into its black depths below, leaving Duartar and the other priests behind, who could only stand there in shock and watch as they made their escape.