Alicia peeked through a crack in the door. “You’re needed in the infirmary.”
Sasha rubbed the bridge of her nose between forefinger and thumb. “Thank you, Alicia. I’ll be out in a moment. We’re just finishing up.”
The door snapped shut.
I didn’t look up from where my ankles were crossed, when I said, “Am I going to get pregnant?”
For a long moment, my question went unanswered. I was left to sit in an uncomfortable silence. One that only grew heavier with every passing second.
And then, “No,” Sasha said, and stood. Turning, she uncovered a glass case containing the unmistakable glitter of gold. An unused set of chains matching those that were sunk into her flesh and mine. “It’s the chains. Once activated, they interfere with our natural cycles. The bound priestesses are infertile.”
I nodded, swallowing a hard lump, but that was it.
Moving to stand before me, she extended her hand, and said, “You did well today, Mila.”
Taking her hand without meeting her eye, I snorted. Knowing it wasn’t true. I hadn’t done anything but react, take the bait she’d laid before me, and reveal myself to be exactly what she thought me to be.
Dangerous.
Volatile.
An empath.
“I’ll see you soon,” she murmured, one hand on the door. The other on my lower back.
“Tomorrow?” I asked, and cringed. Hating the eager lilt to my voice, yet unable to pretend it was a lie.
She shrugged. “Unless something comes up.” A tiny, sad smile flickered at the edge of her lips. “Such is the life of a slave.”
I shuddered, rolling my neck—and bumped the crescent bruises left high on my shoulder. But instead of leaning into the pit of seething hatred, I reached instead for the glimmering shield built by an artist. Drinking it in, I bathed my dampened senses in a wash of cool strength before I turned to go.
Centered. Refreshed.
It wasn’t much, as far as plans went, but it was a start. Something that didn’t belong to the captain or the empire. Something shared between women who might one day be equals.
11
“Ready to go, wildcat?” Marco asked, falling into step at my right, leaving Gabe to guard my back.
Pretending I didn’t notice Alicia’s absence, I held my chin high. Said nothing as they guided me through the ornate halls of the general’s manse.
Gabe chuckled. “Told you. Girl’s got a Marco filter. Just picked it up faster than most.”
“Not possible,” Marco returned. “At the very most, she’s just worn out from a day of training with Sasha. But”—he grinned—“it’s far more likely that the lady wildcat is just intimidated by my dashing good looks.”
We exited the manse to find a city consumed by darkness. Hours had passed in training with Sasha—in a windowless room—without my being able to take note, the entire day spent free of the captain… despite what had grown tacky and sour as it dried.
An ever-present reminder I could not escape.
Just as he wanted.
I shuddered, disgusted and ashamed. Taking small, mincing steps that kept my thighs together, the scent of stale semen trapped beneath the billowing layers of my skirts.
“Hold on there, priestess,” Gabe said, and set a restraining hand on my shoulder. “Can’t go rushing on without us. Captain’s orders.”
Frowning, I shook off his touch and turned my attention in, to touch that shining buffer of pure energy. Braced for the coming fight. To face the man who’d left me in ruins, who’d taken something precious and made it his own.
The streets were dark.
