“Please,” I whispered in a tone meant for the general, but my voice traveled around the room nevertheless. “I-I don’t mean to be rude—”
“And yet, here we are,” the captain drawled, placing his hand on my arm without exerting his influence.
At his droll comment, the tense spell shattered and the gathered elites laughed. Indulgent smiles gracing several faces, they went back to their chatter. Their sipping and nibbling.
“You’ve got a long way to go in the training of this one, don’t you, Rawlings?” the general purred, though his face held none of the amusement present in his voice. And then to me, “Sasha knows the rules, girl. If she’d been forthcoming, you would be mine now. She cost me the opportunity to be the first elite bound totwopriestesses, and for that, she will be severely punished.”
“But it’s not her fault!” I cried, and the captain’s fingers grew tight, unyielding.
I slapped his hand away.
“Ah, and there’s our wildcat.” The general grinned, a hungry gleam entering his gaze as he took me in. Eyes dropping to my chest, before drifting lower. Doing a leisurely sweep of exposed skin no longer stained by walnuts.
Without missing a beat, the captain said, “I find her temperament rather fitting for a man of ambition.”
The gathered elites laughed, a polite smattering of applause echoing over the din of chatter. And with that, they descended. Congratulating the captain, inspecting his newest acquisition with greedy touch.
Me.
“You lucky son of a bitch!” one man said, and punched the captain’s shoulder. “My priestess cost me almost half a million. How much did you pay, Rawlings? I’ve heard the rumors, but I don’t want to believe them.”
A slick grin spread across the captain’s lips. “The opening bid was a hundred.”
“You paid ahundreddollars for a Tritan priestess?”
“No.” And the captain’s teeth gleamed strong and white, when he added, “I paid fifty.”
Cries of shock met his claim, and clutching at his throat, the jealous elite slung his free arm across the captain’s shoulders. “I feel sick,” he said, leaning heavily on the captain as we were escorted to the large table.
The captain pulled his chair back, an air of smug accomplishment positively oozing from his skin.
But there was no seat for me.
I blinked, shocked. Uncomfortable to be left standing while everyone else had already taken a seat.
And it was at that moment, fidgeting in an ocean of powerful men, utterly out of place, that I noticed the dozens of Tritan women already kneeling at the feet of their captors. Half-hidden beneath the table, eyes downcast, their hands folded in their laps. Knees braced on thin, silky pillows.
But through the reek of the elite, I could feel their fear. Even through the blinding fog that was Captain Asher Rawlings, it permeated the room, making my heart beat faster in horrified empathy.
Tritan’s priestesses.
I’d found them.
“Kneel,” the captain drawled, but it was laced with something vicious. A dare for me to continue defying him despite his warnings for me to obey.
“Like a dog?” I hissed, outraged.
“No, Mila,” he said, and used his influence to force me down. “Like a slave.”
3
Dinner started with drinks. The elites spoke of the war as if they didn’t have the people of a conquered nation at their feet, as if Eloran slaves weren’t flitting about, clearing plates and refreshing drinks.
As if a former Head Priestess of the Tritan faith wasn’t strapped to a cross, whipped, gagged, and humiliated.
And yet, there I knelt, shaking with so much impotent fury, without even the luxury of the captain’s influence to force me still.
He’d released me. Left me kneeling there, smothered in a cloud of arrogant, elite oppression. Knowing I hadn’t the courage to defy him in company such as this.
