She might as well be hand delivering her death decree to the soulless fae in front of us. Unease simmers in my chest, but I try to rein in my judgment. IfIhad just been condemned to the skin market like she probably has, I might beg too. Truth stomps that thought from my mind like it’s snuffing out a poisonous snake. I’d be distraught, yes, but I’d never be this stupid. Sure, death is better than a lifetime on your back and an unending train of unwanted cock between your thighs, but mouthing off to Tilleo won’t get you death. Not right away at least. Not the quick and torture-free death that each of us desires to meet in the end. No, what Linea’s doing will only bring pain. She’d have been better off walking out of here straight to the armory and slitting her own throat than what she’s doing now.
“Youwill fix it?” Tilleo asks, his voice smooth and even, but to me it feels like the strands of a glass-tipped flogger against my back.
“Yes, master, I will do anything you desire. Please don’t wash me from my place here. I’m your blade to command,” she beseeches, her last words the only thing we’re allowed to say when the masters give us orders.
“Jarwa, takemy bladeto the hot house. I’ll be with her shortly,” Tilleo commands, and the guard to his left grabs Linae and practically drags her from the room. Heat crawls over my skin as thoughI’vebeen the one condemned to the brick enclosure that’s more oven than room. I chase away the memories of punishments spent in that horrible place and watch as Linae looks on with hopeful eyes. I have no doubt that just like always, that hope will be her end.
Tension crawls over my scalp like scorch mites as we stand perfectly still, waiting, like the good slaves we are, for what Tilleo has yet to say. He doesn’t hurry to get it over with, his eyes once again searching out disappointment as the tic in his jaw pulses. At first I think he’s taking a moment to calm his temper, but the gleam in his eyes tells me he’s more than likely thinking up punishments for Linae. If she’s lucky, she’ll be bitten by something poisonous and die before Tilleo finishes with us and moves on to her. Although with the immunities to poison the masters have forced us to build up over the years, there’s probably not a viper, spider, or scorpion in the desert that could get the job done at this point.
“The time that you’ve been working toward is nearly upon us,” Tilleo starts, gripping his hands behind his back as he begins to pace in front of us. “Soon you’ll be observed by the realm’s best hunters. They will study you while I push you and test you. Over the next five days, they will decide if you are worthy to bear their Order’s name. I expect each and every one of you to represent me and this ludere accordingly. Not every crop of savages is worthy of a Bidding. You have earned it, but you’re not free of me yet. Rememberthatover the next few days as you fight to secure a future thatI’veallowed to be possible. Remember what’s at stake, and do not fail me,” he practically snarls.
I defer the urge to tighten my hands into fists to relieve the tension now coursing through my body, and instead shout out in time with the others, “I am your blade to command.”
Tilleo pulls in a deep breath and pauses his pacing. He reaches out an empty hand, and one of his guards hurries to place a scroll in it. Slowly, Tilleo unfurls the parchment, and his duplicitous eyes scan over what’s written.
“Paryn and Kabit, you are with the Order of Wolves. Sennet and Taria, Order of Vulpi. Yotta and Taur, you’ll be with the Order of Bruins,” Tilleo commands, shouting out more assignments as my stomach clenches and I wait to hear my name. “Harsh and Auset, you’re consigned to the Order of Scorpions. Kin and Zinnon, you will serve the Order of Crows.”
My heart plummets in my chest, and Tilleo’s voice falls to the background of my mind. The Order of Scorpions? Really? Worry finds a thorny perch in my chest, refusing to move when I try to brush it away. The Scorpions don’t bid at these events. According to the house slaves, they come when requested, watch in silence, fuck the offerings occasionally, drink and talk mostly with their fellow Scorpions, and then leave. They never buy. The guards say they’re stiff and haughty and look at everyone as though they’re beneath them.
Tilleo assigning me to serve them while they’re here for the Bidding isn’t a vote of confidence. This isn’t a good thing. I’ll have to work even harder to catch the attention of the other Orders during our tests. Which means I won’t be able to sit in the middle of the pack like I had planned. I’ll have to show more of what I’m capable of, which, frustratingly, will have the potential to drive up my price.
Shit.
A fist flies for my face, and I battle every instinct that’s been beaten into menotto block it. Knuckles crash into my cheek with a loud thwap, the momentum of the hit knocking me back. My years of training are the only thing that keep my feet under me so I don’t go crashing to the floor. Pain explodes in my cheek, but my body learned long ago not to respond to it like an untrained fae would. My eyes don’t water. My mind doesn’t reel with confusion. Anger does surge, but not at the guard, Crit, who’s now standing in front of me leering. I’m pissed at myself. I got lost in my thoughts and dropped my guard, and what’s worse is that Tilleo caught me doing it.
Bloody fuck.
I straighten up immediately, shoving the throbbing in my face to the back of my mind. I’m once again alert and focused. Crit stands in my space, his hardened leather armor brushing against my silk-covered breasts as he stares down at me, a cruel smile stretched across his face. He loves to put me in my place, and I can see in his dark gleaming eyes exactly what this is doing for him. If Tilleo wasn’t here, Crit would grind the erection I know he has right now into me before searching for a secluded corner where he’d do his best to make me scream, and not in a good way. Crit isn’t in the ludere often as he’s part of Tilleo’s personal guard, but when he’s here, everyone knows to be careful and to steer clear of the shadows that he likes to lurk in.
Crit steps aside, and Tilleo moves to take his place looming over me. I stare at the pure gold crest resting on my master’s chest and wait for him to wash me from the Bidding or punish me for not paying attention. He reaches out, and I steel myself against the flinch that wants to tick through me as he does. Slowly, he tucks a finger inside the dark blue silk at my neck, sliding it down my chest, over my nipple, and dropping even further until I feel his knuckle brushing past the muscles of my stomach. His trajectory only stops when it hits the top of the metal crest resting over my cunt.
I stop myself from holding my breath, forcing air in and out of my lungs evenly as I wait for what he’ll do next. It feels like forever before Tilleo pulls his hand from my dress, reaching down and straightening the strip of fabric that hangs between my thighs to hammer home even harder that he can. His hand brushes against my smooth skin, pausing for a beat before he finally pulls away. It takes everything in me not to react to his unwanted touch. I want to recoil from it, but I know where that kind of reaction can lead. Some like the fight more than the fun. Besides, I already know that Tilleo likes to test me like this. It’s a favorite game he likes to play, given my history here.
When enticement training was introduced to us, I’d refused. Master Lira threw a fit and punished me almost to death, but surprisingly, Tilleo stepped in and allowed me to reject this aspect of our instruction here. I was permitted to saynoto learning how to seduce and entice and endure. I thought it was because Tilleo didn’t want to waste what he’d invested in me up to that point. I was prepared to die rather than submit. I learned later what he had planned for me.
I shut down the alarm crawling up my throat as unwelcome memories break from their cage and try to swarm me.I can handle this,I tell myself.So long as Tilleo doesn’t push for more than just a feel of me, I can stand here and take it.The flashbacks that haunt me won’t pull me under if this is all he does.But if he pushes, my mind warns,I know I’ll do something stupid.What Tilleo plans for Linae will look like a fun game compared to what he’ll do to me for using what he’s trained me to be against him, and I will.
I keep my breathing steady and paced, showing no outer signs of the inner turmoil that’s rolling through me, as the room grows hotter and all eyes wait for what will happen next.
“I’m not sure where you went, Auset, but the rest of us are right here,” Tilleo chides, as he pinches my chin. He tilts my face, taking in the pink skin and swelling that I can feel settling into my cheek and eye socket from the fist I just took. Crit’s smile widens as he eyes the mark on my face. Not missing that reaction, Tilleo glares at the guard for a beat before returning his hard gaze to me. “Do you want your holes auctioned off instead of your abilities with a blade?” he threatens.
I say nothing, knowing he’s still playing with me like a bored cat with a mouse.
“Speak,” he orders, playing the game I’ve watched him play so many times with other slaves.
“No, master,” I answer evenly, my heart hammering in my chest so hard I worry he can feel it.
“Should I make you a house whore, assign you to the barracks where you can let your mind wander all you want while they use up your tight gash and break this hard body?”
“No, master,” I repeat, my stomach churning at the threat.
He leans closer, his lips skimming the lobe of my ear, and I tamp down on the repulsed shiver that wants to work its way up my spine and get me killed.
“I have high hopes for you, slave,” he whispers so that only I can hear his declaration. “I’ve let you hold back. I’ve given you latitude with your training as a thank you for clearing my way of Dorsin, but my generosity ends here. Do you understand me?”
I swallow down my disquiet at his declaration. Tilleo can say he was doing me a kindness or in some odd way paying back a debt, but I know nothing could be further from the truth. I know this monster too well. He wants something from me, and he wants me to feel indebted, grateful, and eager to give him whatever it is.
“I am your blade to command,” I whisper back to him submissively, my mind spinning with what he might demand of me.
