Mattie stood on shaking legs. Her bad leg throbbed, the scar tissue pulling tight from stress. She clasped her hands in front of her to keep them from trembling.
"Turn around."
She turned.
"Nice." Tarik's voice came from behind her, appraising. "Very nice. What do you think, boys? Is she worth keeping around?"
"Definitely," Yoden said.
"She's got a limp," Galus observed.
Tarik's hand landed on her lower back, making her flinch. "Doesn't matter. I'm not interested in her legs."
As the others laughed, Mattie stared at the wall and tried to turn invisible.
"Turn back around," he commanded.
She turned. Tarik was standing close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. He was tall, like all the immortals, and he enjoyed looming over her.
"You know what I think, Matilda?" He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, an oddly gentle gesture that was somehow more terrifying than his earlier violence. "I think you need a friend. Someone to look out for you. Someone to make sure the other men on this island know you're spoken for."
"I don't…"
"I wasn't asking." His hand moved from her hair to her cheek, cupping it with false tenderness. "You need a protector. And I'm volunteering."
"That's very kind, but?—"
"I'm not kind." His thumb traced her lower lip, and she fought not to gag. "You give me what I want, and I make sure no one else bothers you."
"I don't think that's necessary."
"I wasn't asking what you think. I was telling you how it's going to be." His other hand settled on her hip, pulling her closer. "You and me are going to be very good friends."
Mattie's mind raced through options.
Screaming was pointless because no one would come.
Running was impossible because she couldn't outrun an immortal. Fighting was laughable because she'd be dead before she made a move.
There was nothing she could do.
Nothing except endure whatever came next and hope she survived it.
"Say something," Tarik commanded.
"What would you like me to say?"
"Thank me for offering you my protection."
The words stuck in her throat. She knew she should say them, knew that refusing would only make things worse, but everything in her rebelled at the idea of thanking this monster for anything.
"Thank you," she finally managed.
"Thank you, what?"
"Thank you for...for your protection."
"Good girl." He smiled like she'd done a trick.
