I lay an arm across my breasts and tug the hem of the skirt in a pitiful attempt to cover myself.
The old lady chuckles and shakes her head. “Poor, stupid girl,” she says in Ümbrian.
"Fuck you,” I reply, too angry by the insult to remember that I’m not supposed to know what she said.
She draws back, brows knitted in question. Finally, meeting my eyes, she asks if I understand her, but I’m not stupid enough to make that mistake twice. I give her my angriest glare, then stick my tongue out for good measure.
She rolls her eyes and wraps the belt around my waist. Then, she clips the other length of rope to a golden hoop dangling from the front.
It isn’t until she tugs the rope, forcing me to stumble after her, that I realize it isn’t just a belt. It’s a leash.
The old woman brushes out my hair and adds a little rouge to my cheeks and lips before leading me back up the stairs to where Hook Nose is waiting. I cross my arms over my chest, but he doesn’t seem to care. In fact, he shows no emotion at all, as he circles me, assessing my practically naked body like a mare at auction. That’s all I am to him, a commodity, something to be used. My belly churns in disgust. I know what they’re dressing me for. I may have never had sex, but I’m not stupid. I’d always had thisnaïve, romantic idea that my first time would be this beautiful coupling with a man I loved. And now that will probably never happen. Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them back. I refuse to show weakness. Finally, Hook Nose quits his inspection, and taking my leash, tugs me back down the hall and out into the grand foyer. There, we turn left and enter through a set of double doors into some sort of study.
It’s the first time since arriving that I’ve seen anything besides boats made out of wood. But here it’s everywhere—the warm mahogany giving the room a homey feeling I hadn’t seen since I left Duje. Strangely enough, there are no windows, only bookcases overflowing with texts. They line every wall, while in the center of the room, chairs with red-stuffed cushions surround a circular table. Behind that, sits a massive desk carved with flowers I’m certain only exist on the surface, but it’s the blood fae seated behind the desk that draws my attention.
He’s not what I would call conventionally large. He’s actually a bit thin and probably not much taller than Aemon when standing, by the looks of him. But his presence is enormous. It fills the room. A combination of arrogance and grace that makes him seem almost otherworldly. His long, pure-white hair is pulled into a ponytail that is so long it disappears behind his back and his eyes are a cobalt blue. Much darker than I would have expected, since most of the blood fae we’ve seen up to this point have had pink or extremely light blue eyes. His thin lips curl into a smile that sends a shiver down my spine. Something tells me this isn’t a fae to be trifled with.
“This is the girl you asked for, sir,” Hook Nose says, shoving me so I stumble forward.
The fae male must have heard him, but his eyes are only for me. They scour my face, then travel up and down my body in a way that makes me feel dirty, even though I’ve done nothing but stand here. “That will be all,” the fae male says, finally. He waves a pale hand, his boney fingers topped with obscenely long dark-red nails. Hook Nose bows so deeply I’m shocked he doesn’t just tip over face first into the floor. Gods is Hook Nose shaking? If he’s that afraid of this fae, what does that mean for me? Hook Nose skitters back the way we came, quickly shutting the door behind him with a click that tells me I’m locked in with this powerful blood fae.
And suddenly, I’m wishing for Hook Nose to come back.
“Please. Sit down,” the fae male says, pointing to a chair positioned in front of his desk. It hadn’t really hit me before how much trouble I could be in, but it’s certainly hitting me now. My chest is tight and the muscles in my legs are weak, like they’ve completely atrophied in the past five minutes. I cross the space between us, grabbing every piece of furniture along the way for support and sit.
“Do you know who I am, girl?”
I’m afraid to say no, but I have a feeling this is a fae who can smell lies. “No—uh—sir.” I tack that last part on there since it always seemed to placate Leodin when he was angry at me.
Leodin. Gods, I haven’t thought about him at all since I ran off. He could be dead by now. I shake my head to dislodge the thought.One catastrophe at a time, Katya.
“I am Master Raiden, and you are?” He tips his head to the side in question, reminding me a lot of Hook Nose, but I doubt he’d appreciate the comparison, so I keep that observation to myself. “Katya,” I say. “Katya Valstrad. I’m from Ferridas in—”
He raises his hand to silence me. “Katya. You may call me sir or master, understand.”
“Yes, sir.”
His smile widens to something slightly less terrifying, and his eyes crinkle a bit at the corners. “You’re quick. Good.” Uncurling from his seat, he steps around the desk so he’s directly in front of me. “Stand.”
I push to my feet, grateful they’re staying under me. I have to look up to meet his eyes. I’m so close to him now, I can feel the heat wafting off his body. He places one finger under my chin and lifts and turns my head, studying my face from every angle. “Hmm,” is all he says.“ Now, take off your clothes.”
Now? Already? “Please, no. Uh, sir.”
That nerve-wracking smile drops so fast I don’t even have time to digest it before his hand is wrapped around my throat, cutting off my air supply. Now I’m well and truly terrified. The blood pools in my head, heating my face and pounding in my ears. My legs go weak, and I might have fallen into a bawling heap on the floor if Raiden’s hand wasn’t holding me up,
“My orders are not to be questioned,” he says, that civil voice giving way to something rough and harsh. “I give you a command and you follow it or there will be consequences. Do you understand?”
I nod, or as close to a nod as I can get with his hand around my throat. He releases me, and I do, in fact, drop to the floor.
“Get up,” he says.
Again, I obey.
“Now, undress.”
My hands are shaking so badly, I can hardly hang on to the slick fabric. I watch his face for any sign of irritation, but he gives me nothing—just a flat stare. Finally, I get the dress over my head, and I’m standing bare in front of him. I’ve never been exposed to anyone like this in my life.
Aemon’s face pops into my head, and I toss it back out again. I can’t think about him right now. I don’t even want to wonder what he’d think about this.
