Zadia was on Trish-baby-sitting duty in the main room again. At least, that was how Trish thought of it. It was how she felt. She would rather have been left with Marek and Laura, but they weren’t in the compound right now—although Jordan had said Trish would be seeing them soon. He’d seemed as though he were keeping a secret from her, but also as though it were a surprise, so she hadn’t pushed for a fuller answer.
The more Trish observed other relationships around the compound, though, the more she could see it was similar to some of those.
When Trish had gathered the courage the question Zadia, the other woman had snickered and said Jordan was bossier than anyone else in the compound. She’d also said Trish was the only one who had been able to put up with him and pointed out a woman whose relationship with him had ended after she’d refused to let him pick her clothes out and called him several names, publicly.
Trish kinda wished Zadia hadn’t because the other woman—Asa—was stunningly beautiful with dark, brown hair, full lips, and Amazonian proportions. Like Lisa, Asa made Trish feel small and insecure. She’d twisted the skirt of the dress Jordanhad picked out for her around her fingers until Zadia had noticed and made her stop.
Could it be called “putting up with” his complete control over her when Trish didn’t have another option?
Well. She could have left.
What would Jordan do if she tried to buck against his control? Would that be the end of their relationship? Would he kick her out of the compound; send her back to the Moon? Or just spank her and do as he pleased anyway?
Was there anything shecoulddo to stop him?
Did she want to?
Trish found comfort in the morning routine. She liked being pampered and bathed and having her hair brushed, and if there was something she didn’t want to wear, Jordan had always been willing to listen. Once or twice, there had been a dress or skirt made out of fabric she’d found uncomfortable, and he’d gotten rid of those when she’d told him. On the other hand, when it came to colors she disliked, if he decided Trish would be wearing pastel pink that day, then she ended up in pastel pink—even if she preferred purple or green.
She peeked over at Asa again, who flirted with a large soldier Trish didn’t know. The man was practically salivating. Jordan had gone from that to Trish?
Maybe her entire appeal was that she didn’t fight him much on anything. Or that he could come down hard on her when she did. Glumly, Trish picked at her skirt again. Did Jordan wantheror just any woman who would do as he said?
“Stop looking so down.” Zadia nudged Trish with her elbow. “It’s a beautiful day. Jordan’s taking you to Rio tomorrow. There’s no reason to be down. And if he sees you looking down, then I’m going to be the one in trouble.” She said the last sentence teasingly, but there was a seriousness behind it, too.
Trish sighed and tried to push a smile onto her face.
“Oh good, now you just look like you’re constipated.”
Zadia’s exasperated observation startled a laugh out of Trish. She wouldn’t say she and Zadia were friends exactly—Trish found the other woman too intimidating to be comfortable with her. Zadia wasn’t entirely trustworthy, since she was under Jordan’s command: Trish never knew how much Zadia would report back to him of what Trish said and did. She was becoming used to the other woman’s blunt humor, though, and was no longer afraid of her.
“What was Jordan like when you first met him?” Trish asked, partly because she was curious and partly because she wanted to think about something other than Jordan’s other women and his relationship demands.
“Angry.” Zadia leaned back on the bench where they sat, tilting her face back toward the sun. Her dark-brown hair glinted with coppery highlights. “Mmm, more like enraged. Constantly getting into fights. Would have gotten himself killed if it hadn’t been for who he was.”
“Who he was?” Trish echoed, riveted. Zadia talked as though she said things that were commonly known, but Trish often had no idea what she was talking about.
Zadia opened her eyes and arched one brow at Trish. “The old warlord’s son. He didn’t tell you?”
“No.” Trish blinked in shock. Jordan was the old warlord’s son? The one the Wolf had taken over from? The one the Wolf had killed, if she’d understood correctly.
“Ah.” Zadia closed her eyes again, shrugging. “Well, he did hate the old bastard after the man kicked his mom out of the harem and to the streets when she became sick. The old man thought Jordan would stand by him, but he didn’t. Tried to get her medicine on his own… Apparently he ended up finding the Wolf, who had a connection, but by then it was too late. She died.
“He stayed with the Wolf. And I met him not long after that. He was still pissed as all hell, especially at the old warlord—always picking fights with his men and doing things to disrupt the peace. I thought I was going to be the Wolf’s right hand just because Jordan couldn’t control himself, but then Jordan seemed to realize the Wolf was his best chance at taking out his old man… and he got his shit together. Too bad.” She grinned. “But I’ll get his position now. I was really too young for it then, anyway.”
How come no one had told Trish this? How come Jordan hadn’t?
He had mentioned some things from his past: he’d told her about his mother. Maybe Jordan hadn’t told her about his father because he didn’t like to think about it. After all, he’d had a hand in the man’s death, even if the Wolf had done the actual deed.
“The harem?” Trish wanted to keep Zadia talking, to find out more while she could, since Zadia felt so chatty. If Zadia told Jordan what they’d talked about today, and he got pissed… this might be her only chance to find out.
“The old lord’s harem.” Zadia’s tone was as bored as before. It made sense. She was repeating things everyone else knew—had known for years—barely thinking about what she said. “Must have had close to fifty women in there at one point. Used them up, lent them out to his officers, whatever.
“Any time he saw a woman he wanted, he took her, and then, when he was bored, she’d go to his harem in case he wanted her again in the future. And in the meantime, she’d be useful to him as a way to reward his men or whatever. Didn’t matter what age she was, either. My dad made sure I stayed out of sight or that I dressed up as a boy when I was out and about. The lord didn’t have any interest in boys that way. Biggest risk I took was being conscripted into his army, but I made a pretty scrawny boy.”
“He didn’t have women in his army?”
Zadia snorted. “He was too misogynist. Said he was going to take everything back to the good old days in his territories and women should know their place. Tried to keep everyone from fucking too, unless they were legally bound to each other—and he only allowed opposite-sex couples to bind.” It was an ancient attitude Trish had read about but never heard of anyone actually having it. Everyone experimented, even if they eventually decided they preferred one gender over the other. “He was a fucknugget, through and through.”
