“And we dress up?”
“You know how it is…”Actually, I don’t. “We have to worry about the rankings, but that’s not all of it. The royals, the nobles… well, we’re the pride of Nocturna, the best of the best.Not just at fighting. We’re, well, on display.” For the first time, Izabel looks a little uncomfortable about what she’s saying, but then she brightens. “You’re naturally pretty, you’ll do fine. But we need to get you cleaned up.”
“Wait—” I’m not ready to let this go. “Rankings?! Like we’ll be assigned numbers or something based on how fuckable we look tonight?”
Izabel laughs but shakes her head. “Each pack has its own rankings. Obviously, each pack is led by an alpha, then the beta and a couple of gammas. None of us Rawbonds have titles like that yet, but the wolves are always watching what we do and there’s a hierarchy amongst them. The packs will try to pick off the people who fall to the bottom of the ranks.”
But Izabel said we’d be ondisplay. It’s not just about the wolves. We’re entertainment for the nobles and the king.
Everyoneis judging us.
Right now, I’m significantly more worried about the wolves, who apparently might just decide to murder one of us if we stand with our shoulders slumped or look a little soft around the middle.
“They might even do that tonight, if one of us fails to impress,” Izabel adds contemplatively.
Panic strikes me like a hammer to the head. I grip the bunk for balance and gesture to myself. “Failing to impress, Izabel? And how exactly do you think I’ll measure up?”
Izabel tenses up. “Right. Shit.” Her eyes move over me, and her jaw tightens. “Okay, I have an idea.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
My footsteps echo faintly against the gleaming white marble of the Strategos washroom as I slink toward one of the enormous tubs sunk into the floor. There are half a dozen of them spaced around the room. They’re big enough to fit several people at once and already full of steaming, crystal-clear water.
Shit, even thebathshere are extravagant.
Back home we have a dented metal tub barely big enough to hold me, and the pump that feeds it produces ice-cold water tinted orange with rust. I didn’t even know baths like this could exist, didn’t dare to dream of something so luxurious.
The room is cavernous—high ceilings, tall frosted glass windows, golden taps and sinks. Even the grates on the drains set into the floors are gold.
Egith’s voice rings out in my memory. ”You’re already drawing attention to yourself.” I try to temper my slack-jawed wonder of it, to looklesslike the impoverished commoner I am, as I quickly undress.
At least there’s no one else here. But it doesn’t escape me that this is a communal space. There aren’t any privacy screens, andthere’s no lock on the door, either. The men and women of the Bonded bathe… together.
My face heats at the thought. No one’s ever accused me of being a prude, but something about the idea is almost lewd.
There’s a row of shelves set into one wall. Perfectly folded white towels and washcloths, pristine and fluffy. Bottles of perfumed soaps, lotions, and who knows what else.
I grab a bottle and sniff. I don’t recognize the scents, but it’s divine—fresh flowers and a hint of something deep. Expensive and oddly sensual.
Fuck, I can’t use this. Like putting jewelry on a pig.
Wait, did I just call myself a pig?
I clench my teeth. This place is already getting to me, making me feel… inferior. But I’m not. Being born into money and privilege doesn’t make these people better than me.
At that moment, I catch sight of myself in the enormous gilded mirror hanging above the sinks. It gives me a start. The woman looking back at me is almost a stranger, her silver hair gleaming in the late afternoon light, her mouth set in a serious line.
I look away quickly, overwhelmed by a rush of jumbled emotions. Familiar rage and pain—and something else. A wobbly confusion that sets my teeth on edge.
This whole ordeal has already changed me in ways I can’t begin to understand.
And now I have to primp and pose to entertain a bunch of pompous nobles, like I’m a nice cut of meat on display at the butcher?It’s for Sae, I tell myself, stiffening my spine.Remember, this is all for her.
Survival is all that matters, by any means necessary.
I take the bottle and hurry to the nearest tub, stripping the rest of my clothes off quickly. Hot water envelops me as I climb in.
It’s a shock at first—almost scalding. I suck in a breath, gripping the bottle of soap so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter in my hand. And then…
