* * *
The Governor was a demon the size of Kain, his power more than evident despite his human disguise. He was a Lord, Selma was sure. He was only the second of his kind she’d ever seen, and the reminder of the man who’d given her up sent a stab through her chest.
She knew she’d deceived him by not disclosing what she was, but his betrayal had still stunned her. He’d told her he didn’t want a mate, yet knowing she was a Pure Breeder had made him turn his back on her in the blink of an eye, sealing her fate.
“Miss Selma Lehmann,” the Governor said, a wide smile pulling at his lips as he spread his arms in a welcoming gesture. “My dear, we are so very pleased to have you join us. Come, child. You must be weary from your travels.”
Selma raised both eyebrows at him. Did he really think she’d come of her own free will? She raised the hand tethered to Azir’s, rattling the chain.
“Yeah. Hi. I’d shake your hand, but—I’m a bit tied up.”
The demon Lord turned his disturbing gaze to the Agent, who tensed under his attention. “Agent Azir, one day you must tell me how a group of the Agency’s best happened across the first Pure Breeder we’ve seen in over thirty years—but for now, I hope you’ll excuse my lack of hospitality. I am locking down the property until the auction and no unauthorized personnel can be present.”
“Of course, Your Excellency.” The Agent gave a half-bow and unhooked the chain around Selma’s wrist. “I will take my leave.”
It wasn’t that Selma was sad to see the back of the man who’d forced her to the auction, but when she was alone with the Governor, a new level of unease crawled up along her spine.
She stared up at the huge male, digging her nails into her palms to force herself not to cower in his presence. Whatever it’d been about Kain that had made her relax around him, this demon Lord didn’t possess it.
“You have nothing to fear from me, my dear,” he said, fixing her with another unsettling smile. “Your scent betrays your anxiety. Has it been a tough few days?”
Was he really asking her about her state of mind?
“Yeah. I guess getting kidnapped can be kind of stressful.” She set her jaw. “I know it doesn’t matter to any of you, but I want you to know that I don’t want this—any of this. You can all act as if it’s some great honor you’re bestowing upon me, but we both know that all you’ve got planned for me is rape.”
His eyes sparked and he let out an amused chuckle. “Oh, my dear girl! Such lip. My own Valarina is from a time when human women were gentler, but I’ll wager whichever Lord wins your companionship will have fun taming you.”
He reached out a hand, offering it to her palm-up. “Come, precious one. Let me bring you to your room.”
Selma debated not taking his hand, but despite the Governor’s friendly facade, she felt the dark steel behind it as clearly as she did the heat emanating from his skin. And something about that outstretched hand very much seemed like a test—one she wouldn’t enjoy failing.
His smile turned a little sharper when she gingerly placed her palm against his.
“Very good,” he murmured, brushing his lips against the back of her hand. “You’ll find the process much easier this way.”
He led her up the grand staircase and down a series of wide hallways decorated with lush runners and beautiful paintings. At the end of one such corridor, he fished out an iron key from his pocket and stopped by a heavy door. It had been painted white like the others they’d passed, but was obviously much sturdier.
The Governor laid his hand against the wood and murmured some words in a language she didn’t understand. Black light flickered around his fingers before he stuck the key in the keyhole, twisted it, and opened the door.
The suite on the other side had been done up in a style that spoke of centuries past. A large bed dominated the room, but there was also a pretty white sofa set over by a dead fireplace. Two doors led from the main bedroom—and steel bars covered the windows.
“Your bathroom and dressing room,” the Governor said, nodding at the two doors.
Selma hesitated, her eyes sliding from the bars to the bed. “What… What happens now?”
The demon chuckled, releasing her hand to rest his on top of her shoulder. She felt so small and vulnerable as she stared at the bed, trying her best to prepare for what came next.
“I smell your fear, precious one,” he rumbled, petting her hair as if she were a treasured cat. “But I only have desires for my mate. You will not be penetrated before your auction. I will set it for three weeks from now to allow the Lords interested in claiming a mate to get their affairs in order. Until then, you will spend your time in this room, resting as you prepare to be claimed by the Lord who places the winning bid. Worry not—you will be well-cared for.”
Finding strength at his assurance he wasn’t going to force himself on her, she turned to look at him. “Will I have any say in who claims me?”
He smiled as if amused by the notion that she wanted any agency over her own fate. “Your mate will be the Lord willing to sacrifice the most and fight the hardest for you. Were you hoping for love, little Breeder?”
She flushed and looked down, angry at the flicker of Kain that danced before her inner eye at that word. It hadn’t been love—but being with him was the first time she’d ever felt safe, and she knew whoever claimed her in three weeks…
Well, she was unlikely to feel anything but terror for them for a very long time to come.
“Most mates find contentment in their lot,” the Governor said, nudging her chin up with a finger. “Eventually.”
