Page 46 of Degradation (The Brethren Lords #3)
Devin
“ Y ou’re wanted.”
I don’t react beyond an internal sigh. I knew this was coming. Knew there’d be recompense. I all but kidnapped the bastard, didn’t I? Although he got back safe, he got back unharmed despite himself.
I put the pistol down, place the oil beside it and get to my feet.
Cleaning my gun has always given me a sense of calm.
It’s methodical. Logical. I don’t need to think, I don’t need to organise myself.
I just move on automatic. It’s grounding, I guess.
And it silences the whispers, silences the noise. Silences everything.
As I get up, I note Malik is stood by the door, his right eye swollen from where Gunther punches him.
I see a few others sat around nursing bruises, nursing other injuries from the fight.
No one has spoken about it, no one has said a word, and yet, we’re all more than aware that we crossed a line today.
That Gunther was the one goading, and yet, when push came to shove, we didn’t follow ‘our duty’, we did the exact opposite.
What will happen next time? What will happen when Gunther decides to turn his mania on us? There’s no way we’ll be ignored, no way we’ll be spared. He’s hurt enough slaves, enough servants, he’s tortured his bitch of a wife to the point that she’s practically catatonic.
He’s going to grow bored of it, of them. He’s going to want a better victim, a higher prize.
And what better than beating a man who can actually fight back?
I shake my head, burying those thoughts.
It’s not for me to care. It’s not for me to dwell on right now.
I need to control the controllables, take each day as it comes.
From what I’ve seen, Gunther will not be Chapter Lord for much longer, the Brethren will not allow it, our Grand Master will not allow it.
And I know I’m strong enough to face whatever shit is coming.
When we get to his office, Gunther is sat behind his ridiculously sized desk, as if he’s been hard at work for hours.
He keeps me stood there for a few moments and then he looks up, all surprised as if I wasn’t summoned and announced at the door.
“Blake,” He says, “You did me a great service today.”
I open my mouth to argue, then realise what he said. Service. Not disservice.
“Just part of my duty.” I reply.
He scoffs, waving his pudgy hand. “Not every guard would have acted as you did. Not every guard would have risked their life for mine.”
We both know how true those words are, despite the training we received. Afterall, didn’t that little scuffle in the Cathedral prove it?
“As a reward, I am giving you a night with my wife.”
“Excuse me?”
He smiles, pushing off the desk, using his fisted hands to get his fat body up onto his feet. “I’d say you earnt it. You saved my life, what greater reward is there a man can offer after such a feat?”
This is a trick. It has to be. He’s willingly giving her to me? Oh, I know he’s shared her a few times, I know he’s had a few friends over, that he’s taken to drugging her too, ensuring her compliance when he thinks she’ll be difficult about it.
The other guards have spoken of her laid out, practically dead to the world while he’s stood there and watched as another man has fucked her lifeless body. I can’t say I see the appeal, where’s the fun in fucking someone if you can’t see their reaction to it?
Gunther glances at his watch, then at my face. “She’s being prepared now…” He begins but I cut across him.
“What are the rules?” I ask.
Gunther frowns. “Rules?” He repeats.
“Boundaries, anything off limits?” If I get to fuck her, I get to play with her for a few hours, then I want to ensure I can do as I wish, I’m not going to fall into his trap, I’m not going to give him ammunition to use against me.
He stares at me harder, stares at me like he’s trying to see the trick.
Only, it’s too clever for him to work out.
I’ve seen the way my brother manages him, I’ve seen the way Magnus speaks to him.
I need him to tell me I’ve got free rein because his limited imagination will never believe all the things I plan to do to her, all the ways in which I’m going to hurt his precious little wife.
He twitches his head, just a little, like there’s something inside, trying to get out. “She sees too much.” He whispers, before fixing his beady little gaze on me, “You can do what you like, you can use her however you see fit, but I want that sorted. I want that fixed, do you understand?”
I pause, staring back at him. Surely, he’s not saying what I think he is?
“They are watching.” Gunther whispers. “Everyone is watching. How do I know she’s not a part of it too?”
“Your wife?” I reply. The woman is locked up in her room all day. She wouldn’t have the means or opportunity to be part of anything.
He glances around, stares into the corners and then runs his hands through his hair. “Fix it, Blake. Fix it. That’s my rule, that’s my requirement for allowing you to fuck my wife.”
The way he says it makes it sound like I came to him begging, not the other way around.
I grit my teeth, turning to leave, and as I do, I see her eyes, her beautiful iridescent blue eyes.
He wants them gone. He wants them erased.
I won’t let him do it, at least, not the way he plans. They’re too pretty to simply destroy. Too pretty to simply put out forever. Such a jewel should be treasured, should be kept safe. Immortalised almost.