“She’s terrified, sir,” Sasha said. “But she should be fine after some rest.”
Surprise flickered across his face. “You can feel that?”
Sasha patted my knee, avoiding my eye. “Yes, sir. She’s making me jittery.”
Slinging a possessive arm about her shoulders, the general pulled her to his side and said, “I’d like to know what happens to this slave, Asher.” He turned, preparing to leave. “She’s made my morning very entertaining.”
Agreeing to bring me along to lunch, they exchanged their goodbyes. Sasha threw me an encouraging look over her shoulder as they departed, and all I could do was swallow a homesick sob.
“Time for a bath, sir?” Beau asked.
“Yes, and I think we’ll keep her restrained for now,” the captain said. His hand settled on my lower back, and he guided me into the warm water of the bathing pool.
I gasped as my body was submerged, shocked by the luxury of warm water. Eyes sliding shut on a quiet groan. Having spent years washing with melted snow and cold river water, this was a glorious change of pace.
“Feels good, doesn’t it, slave?”
Eyes snapping open, I stiffened, snapping out of my momentary lapse in guarded control.
Leaning against the edge of the pool with an amused smirk tracing his lips, the captain said, “This is calledbathing.” He said it slowly, flicking his fingers first to me, then the hot water. “You’ll be doing this regularly now.”
My cheeks grew hot. Scowling, I shifted in my chains to hide the hurt, the lash of humiliation.
Putting a rough brush to my freshly healed back, Beau went to work, scrubbing vigorously.
I tried to pull away, to protect myself from this indignity, but there was nowhere to go. Nothing I could do to stop them from looking at me with the same interest one might show a rabid animal.
Rolling his sleeves back, revealing corded forearms, the captain produced a bucket. Dunked it in the water swirling around my hips, then dumped it over my head.
I spluttered, choking on a cough. Eyes burning, I tried to blink away the sting. Rubbing my face on the inside of my arms, but I found no relief.
A low whistle made me flinch, and I blinked through tears to find Marco appraising me with raised brows. “Look at the state of that water, and she’sstillfilthy,” he said. “Captain, I promise to do double duty next week. Please don’t make her a pleasure slave.Please.The fighters like being dirty. She’d fit right in—”
“And last about thirty seconds before I’d have a broken slave to deal with. Go do something else, Marco. You’re distracting me,” the captain drawled, and poured another bucket over my head.
Finished scrubbing my back, Beau squirted some pink, fruity-smelling soap into her hand and moved onto massaging my scalp.
“I may need the other girls in here, sir. And some scissors,” Beau said, tugging at a particularly thick clump of hair. “Are thesefeathers?”
I squirmed when her fingers caught and wouldn’t budge. My entire scalp moved as she tried to yank it free.
“Try your best to brush it out,” the captain replied, then barked, “Head back,” before dumping another bucket over me.
With just enough time to obey, I blinked as dark, soapy water flooded back. Running down my chest, swirling around my thighs.
A new wave of burning dripped into my eyes, and I squeezed them shut, letting the tears fall where none might see my shame.
“Beau?” the captain asked, tugging on a tuft of pubic hair covering the core of my femininity—also dyed a rich, dark brown. “Get some wax.”
And then my breath caught.
The dye.
In the panic of the last few hours, of being captured, beaten, and sold, I’d forgotten. Burning eyes reminded me just how short the lifespan of homemade walnut dye might be.
Mixed with shampoo? There was no telling how soon my lineage would be revealed.
Only that itwould.
