Ilead her through the corridors of theRelentless, each footfall of mine echoing like the tolling of war drums. She follows behind, tethered but not dragged—head high, spine straight. She’s no broken thing. Not yet.
Good.
The rest of the crew watches us like scavenger beasts scenting blood but knowing better than to snap at the kill claimed by the apex predator. Brom is the only one bold enough to step out of formation, boots thudding beside me.
“Captain,” he says low, not disrespectful—but close. “The holding cells?—”
“No.”
One word. No room for argument.
I don’t even glance at him.
He falls back, quiet. Smart.
She doesn’t speak as I bring her into my quarters. Not a prison. No chains on the walls or bolts in the floor. Just dark metal, soft pelts, and the soft pulse of ambient light cut from bioluminescent resin set into the carved walls. It smells of ironwood oil, smoke, and the faintest trace of ozone from plasma weapons on the rack.
She stops just inside the threshold. Her eyes flick across the room—disbelief, curiosity, suspicion.
“What… is this?”
“My quarters.”
She shoots a glare over her shoulder. “Why not the brig?”
“Because you are not a prisoner.”
That shuts her up.
For now.
I leave her standing there and ascend the mezzanine stairs, each step deliberate, letting her feel the weight of my retreat. At the top, I turn and watch her through the curved obsidian bars. A cage. Of sorts. Only I’m inside it.
She paces.
She pokes at the wall panel.
She stares at the door, at the leash still attached to the collar around her throat.
Then she looks up at me, blue eyes blazing like frostfire. “What now?” she snaps.
I lift a brow.
“Let me guess,” she snarls, fists balled. “You expect me to get on the bed and wait for you to—what, rut me like an animal? Get it over with?”
I should be furious.
But gods, she’s glorious.
“Come now,” I say, voice low, velvet-draped steel. “If I wanted that, I’d have taken you already.”
Her face flushes.
“I will not touch you,” I say, slow and sure, “until youbegme to.”
Her jaw drops. Then clenches.
“You’re sick,” she breathes. “You’re a monster.”
