Page 83 of Daughter of the Dark Sea

Kora moaned softly as they travelled up, gripping her waist, lifting her shirt to expose her stomach. It was still dark, and the cool air swept in to brush against her bare skin. Those hands quickly followed, tracing her curves, and the strong wall of her core, before cupping her breasts. They were rough, and she wriggled at the twinge of pain.

Blake washere.

He was touching her, caressing her.Finally. They’d get their moment in the desert. It was daring, and her defiance sizzled at the risk of exposure.

His hands became earnest, tugging at her clothes, and she winced as they pressed hard enough to bruise. He placed his knees down the middle, pushing her legs open with a grunt, and fisted her waistband, fumbling with the ties.

Blake leaned forward, his tongue flicking up her neck, inhaling deeply. She turned her head to capture his mouth with her own, eager to breathe in the scent of him. The scent of—

Kora’s eyes flew open as she grimaced at the stench of sweat . . . along with a familiar foul odour. Callan grinned, his hands pulling at her waistband as he rushed to remove her clothes. He’d discarded his gloves, revealing mangled, twisted flesh in a burning shade of red. His fingers ended in rounded, calloused stumps, his nails burned clean off.

“You!” she seethed. “Get the fuck off me!”

She pushed up, but there was barely enough room for them both in her tiny one-person tent, and his head bobbed against the roof as he perched between her spread legs. She shoved against his chest, and he laughed in response at the feeble attempt.

“You were enjoying it,” he crooned, his teeth flashing in the dark. “Just lie down, dear. I’ll take you on the ride of your life.”The audacious prick.

“Get. Off. Me.Now.”

Kora shoved against him again, only to knock him a few inches. Callan was a solid wall of muscle. As a royal guard, he had to be the strongest, the fittest, thefastestto defeat their enemies. She had no doubt he would easily overpower her, and his grin suggested he knew the same.

In the confines of the tent, she didn’t have enough room to move her legs to close them, or even drag herself away from him. Her knees touched the sides of the bolted-down tent, and her heart raced as a sickening heat crept over her body.

“Aye, I plan to.”

Callan raised a hand, and his backhanded slap across her face was like a bolt of lightning. She fell back, her vision dazed, cheek smarting with pain as he shoved her shirt up to her neck and greedily lapped his tongue all over her skin. The very touchof him repulsed her, and panic bubbled, seeping in at the edges, taking over her body.

“No!”she cried. “Stop—”

A large, grimy hand clasped her mouth, muffling her cries, as his other disfigured hand trailed down to between her thighs. Tears sprung in her eyes as he gripped at the apex of her thighs, clenching, and rolling his palm painfully, a hiss snaring from his clenched teeth.

Kora manically writhed under his grip, her nails scraping his thick arm, trying to pry his hand from her mouth. She dragged it lower down and clamped her teeth downhard.

“You bitch!”

Callan slapped her again, knocking her head into the ground as his blood leaked from her mouth. Stars danced in her vision from the impact, the world tilting, and she distinctly heard him rip her trousers, then rapidly pulling down his own. She only had the saving grace of his twisted hands struggling with the ties.

“Help!” she screamed. “Someone—”

Please, Blake, please hear me!

He forced her shirt into her mouth as a gag after pinning her arms beneath her own weight. Kora cried against the fabric, and his gaze dropped to the talisman. With a smile, he gripped the chain in his fist, yanking it to the side and into the ground, choking her.

She gasped. Coughing at the crushing chain straining against her windpipe, cutting into her flesh. Her legs flailed either side of Callan as he smeared his blood over her stomach.

“I bet you’re a virgin.” He leaned down, inhaling at her neck. The sheer strength of him was unimaginable. He was nearly as strong as the Flint twins. Her nimble, swift nature wouldn’t get her out this. “Damn . . . I hope you are.”

He licked up the side of her face, following the curve of her scar. His tongue left a lingering trail of burning pain, as if her flesh couldn’t bear the touch of him.

“I’m going to mark you like whoever did this to you. Ruin you for other men. No one will want to touch you once I’m through with you.”

He reared back, chuckling as he removed the last of his trousers, his hard length springing up. Her mouth dried at the sight, her heart and soul emptying out.

It was happening.

No one was coming to save her, no one heard her cries—or they did and didn’t care. It wasn’t their job to stop abuse. To stoprape. She was a female; chattel for males to do with as they please. It was a male’s world after all.

Kora pleaded with the gods, with Calypso, Thanos,any of them, in that moment. She hadn’t prayed to them in so long, in such a desperate way, and she begged with her heart, her soul, her life. She beseeched her faithful voice, who watched over her, who guided her. Despite her inability to respond to it, she implored with everything she had in the hope it could hear her now.