20
As night fell, the harem came alive. A buzzing hive of activity filled to capacity, brimming with an array of fluttering, colorful silks, the main room was ringed by a battalion of men with tight jaws and deep scowls. Men in crisp black cuts whose dark eyes were turnedin.
Elites.
Armed…
Deadly…
Their attention fixed not to the beautiful, almost nude women trained for pleasure, but to me. To Asher. My every action watched. Documented with shrewd, alertness that left me little to do but stand and be decorated by the pleasure slaves.
Leery, on edge, I kept an eye on twitchy trigger fingers and dared not breathe too deep.
And yet…
I was surrounded by power.
In the heart of a magical storm of elite energy, the empath slumbered. Too drained to fight for even a sip of that which was not mine to take. A beast held back by fear of yet another failure, unmoved by the lure of vengeance—but one who could be awoken by one Captain of Special Forces.
He ignored my every searching glance. Every attempt to catch his eye and force the decision to save ourselves from certain death.
Instead, he’d been accommodating as we’d been dressed in formal, Caledonian garb. Attended by a flock of cooing harem slaves, their perfumed oils and shelves of mysterious creams.
Head to toe black—Asher was cloaked in a long overcoat with black stitching, black buttons, and glossy black silk lining. Every line crisp.Sharp. The only hint of color the weapon belted around his waist. Battered and worn, it was a subtle reminder of just what he was, despite his failure to act. His experience on the field earned by years of hardship, now reduced to little more than a show that could not be enforced.
To match, I had been draped in yards of stiff black silk edged in gold. Hair washed and plaited in complicated twists that spilled down my back, I was unrecognizable from the forest creature I’d once been.
Face painted to enhance my features, Alicia had spent the time to ensure I looked nothing like myself.
Inky eyes narrowed in tight scrutiny when he saw her progress, crossed arms testing the seams of his lavish coat, he inspected me before an audience of dazzling women. “Darker,” the captain said, but that was it.
My cheeks warmed at the callous assessment, and, hurt blooming in my chest, I glanced at my fingers.
“Look up,” Alicia ordered, and tilted my chin back with a hooked finger. Armed with brushes and pens, with pots of kohl and a fine golden dust, she painted until my eyes began to water with the effort to remain still. Concentration creased between the fine arches of her brows.
A gentle tap on my ankle bade me to lift my foot, and for the first time since my arrival on the front lines, shoes appeared on my feet.
Sandals with black ribbons laced up my shins. Bows tied behind my knees.
“What’s the point of all this?” I asked, testing the fit.
Alicia smirked, sparkling green eyes flicking up to meet my gaze for an instant before she said, “Tradition, I suppose. The Emperor’s brother sent very specific orders.” She shrugged, licked her thumb, and sharpened the edge of some black smudging she’d left beneath my eye. “He might be an ancient man, but he’s a man nevertheless. And in my experience, menalwaysappreciate a beautiful woman.”
I scowled.
“Don’t,” she hissed, and smacked my shoulder. “You’ll crease everything I’ve done and I won’t be able to fix it.” She glanced at the battalion of soldiers ringing the harem. To the streets beyond, where day was giving over to night. “We’re out of time as it is, priestess.”
“Thank you, Alicia,” the captain murmured, and took my elbow. Guiding me away from the paints and creams. Matching my gait, step for step, as he led me toward the exit. “You look lovely,” he added under his breath.
Fists clenched, I glared at the floor. Cheeks hot. “I look like a whor—”
“Warrior,” he said, and cut me off. “You look like a warrior, little priestess.”
To this, I had nothing to say. Nothing to offer but flushed cheeks and dizzy compliance.
There wasn’t time to speak after that.
No time to ask how he planned to get us through. No privacy to pick an elite and mark him for death in our stead.
