“Now, now,” the male said. “Don’t frighten the poor thing. I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself on the journey if I’m tempted by the scent of it.” He took a step back to study her further. “How much?”
“Five-hundred thousand,” Rankin declared, crossing his arms as he too dipped his chin in a perusal of Xenia’s body.
The male snorted, then turned to Rankin with an indignant glare. “I haven’t paid that much for a humanever. And certainly not one I’m giving away.”
“You’ve just tasted her. Surely you agree she’s worth it.”
The male stroked his beard. “Let me have a look at the rest of her.”
Xenia blanched before Rankin grabbed her upper arm forcefully enough to inspire a yelp. “Come on, pet, no need for a struggle.”
Xenia choked down an urge to vomit as Rankin unbuttoned her dress and pushed the fabric off her shoulders. It gathered around her waist, caught by her shackled hands.
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears away. Reminded herself she was more than just a body. No matter how these Fae males were treating her.
She whimpered as rough fingers stabbed her collarbone, then traveled down her sternum before trailing along her breast.
“Tits are a bit small, but otherwise she’s flawless,” the bear bi-form said, pulling her dress back up. “But five-hundred thousand is excessive, by any standard. I’ll give you three.”
Rankin plucked at a whisker, running his tongue over a sharpened fang. “Four-fifty. I’ve already got an offer from a buyer in the Northern Territories. He’s been begging me for a blonde. You know how rare they are.”
Xenia thought he might be bluffing, remembered Rankin offering Cael two-hundred and fifty-thousand for her in that alley in Rhamnos. Wrath of Vestan, what she wouldn’t give for Cael to come barreling in to save her now like he had then.
“Bullshit,” the bear bi-form huffed. “Three seventy-five. That’s my final offer.”
Rankin’s amber eyes glittered as he revealed a familiar, black-handled Typhon dagger.
Ker. Cassandra’s dagger.
He must’ve retrieved it from the Windrider at the desk in Ohan’s building.
“Four-hundred and I’ll throw in this,” Rankin countered. “You and I both know it’s worth three times the difference. If I’m not mistaken, it’s a blade from a Vestian Guard down in the colonies. A true work of art. The High Gods only know how this little kitten ended up with it.”
The bear bi-form took the dagger, then swiped it through the air, admiring the whorled pattern on the blade. “Good balance,” he murmured. “Though I’m not sure what use I would have for such a weapon.”
He lunged and brought the edge of the knife up under Xenia’s chin, nearly nicking her skin. Ice cold fear coursed through her veins.
The bear bi-form sucked in a deep breath, then chuckled. “It is quite handy for inspiring fear, though, isn’t it?” He removed the blade from Xenia’s throat and stepped back, flipping the dagger in his hand and thrusting the handle toward Rankin. “Deal. Wrap this and the kitten up for me. I’ll meet you out at my convoy with the payment.” He strode for the door, then turned back. “For the paperwork, put the name of her new owner. She’s a surprise gift for the family I’m marrying my daughter into. Heading up to Diachre to see them now.”
“As you wish, Laskaris,” Rankin answered. “Whose name would you like me to put down?”
The bear bi-form, Laskaris, wrapped a meaty hand around the door frame. “Zephyrus.”
Xenia’s heart stalled.
“Arran Zephyrus.”
CHAPTER SIX
Cael Zephyrus had forgotten that the forest-green velvet curtains in his childhood bedroom never quite shut all the way.
And even though Stoneridge, his family’s lodge in Diachre, was in a near permanent state of gray, the sun still managed to peek through that crack and wake him from another night of numb, dreamless slumber.
He had no idea what time it was. Probably well into the morning. Well into the afternoon, even.
Just as he’d suspected, as soon as he’d returned to these suffocating log-paneled halls, he’d plummeted into one of his episodes.
He blinked as his consciousness slowly returned, bringing with it snippets of a conversation from what felt like eons ago.
