A whore.
Like recognizing like.
Breath coming in hard, short gasps, I collapsed in on myself. Shoulders curling, arms wrapped around the vulnerable spots—my chest and belly, anywhere that threatened to burst wide open in an explosion of panic and gore—trying to protect from further attack.
Alicia’s eyes went wide. “It was your first time.”
It wasn’t a question.
And I had nothing to say. No voice to combat the disgusting edge of pity that crinkled her elegant edges. No pressing urge to deny her realization.
There was only the screaming silence echoing between my ears.
“Ready?” Marco asked, making us both jump.
One hand pressed to her heart, Alicia said, “Shit, Marco!” in a breathless whisper. “Give a girl some warning before you creep up on her.”
“I like that you don’t know when I’m coming, beautiful,” Marco said, and rubbed her shoulders.
She brushed him off with a glittering, good-natured smile. The mimic’s mask sliding back into place. “That’s what all the girls say about you.”
A choked, wounded sound came from Marco’s throat, and he said, “How ‘bout you, wildcat?” with a friendly bump of his hip. “Anything cruel to say to poor old Marco this morning?”
I dipped under his arm and padded into the street on bare feet without a word. Ignoring the sting of cold cobblestones against my skin, I dragged a breath through my lips. Forcing my lungs to expand no matter how inflexible they’d become.
“See, Alicia?” Marco hummed, closing the door with a deft click. “The wildcat knows how to show a little respect.”
“Nah, sorry, mate,” Gabe said. “She’s just learned to filter out your voice, that’s all.” Without tainting his stoic exterior, Gabe glanced down the busy street and unclipped his weapon as he scanned the area.
Alicia cleared her throat. “You know, I bet that’s it. But”—she licked her lips—“before we head over to the manse, we need to make a detour to the bathhouse first. Mila could use a nice soak—”
“Sorry, beautiful,” Marco said, and slung his arm about her shoulders. “Can’t. The lady wildcat is due for training. Not stops. We’re to go straight there, and come straight back. Captain’s orders.”
Swallowing the humiliated ache clawing at the back of my throat, I let my eyes fall before Alicia might see the truth. That the captainwantedme soiled and claimed. Reeking of his seed as a means of warding off any other interested males.
I tuned them all out. Reeling and untethered, my feet carrying me forward long after my mind had withdrawn. The walls of my reality crumbling all around me to reveal a place where an elite could heal himself. Where a man I hated could do exactly what he pleased with my body, and I was left to suffer the sticky, swollen consequences.
I caught a choked sob between my molars, grinding it into submission until I could taste bitter, crushed enamel.
And so it was that I was caught unaware, finding myself standing in the great, sweeping front hall of the general’s manse with no recollection as to how I’d come to be there.
The Head Priestess stood with hands folded before her, waiting. A serene smile gracing bruised lips.
My eyes flicked over her face and I saw that damage in a new light, the captain’s cruel words mocking as he drove me into the mattress.
Fucked like a sleeve. Used. Beaten down by horror. A ghost still clinging to a broken shell…
Inclining her head, she turned and gestured for us to follow as she navigated the grand halls, moving on the balls of her feet as if afraid to make a single sound. She didn’t stop to admire any of the stolen treasures. Didn’t seem to see the paintings or the sculptures.
She walked.
We followed.
Until a thick oak door drew her to a stop.
“Ladies,” Gabe said and pushed it open with a tight bow.
She motioned for me to proceed her into the tiny dark room, and said, “Thank you for the escort, gentlemen. Alicia.”
