Page 12 of Given to the Fae (The Dark Realms #3)

I try not to think about the marks on her body, the casual way she said what was done to her as if she was describing her last meal, and not her own torturous punishments at the hands of her masters at The Barrack.

Fuck, when I saw the conditions of that hellscape, it was all I could do not to brain that demon, Ogdan, and his sycophant, Sio, with my bare fists.

Growing up in a place like that, is it any wonder she’s the way she is?

No, I’ll give her that. But the why doesn’t really matter. The fact is a slave, especially one like her, can never, ever be trusted, and I know the others feel the same way.

On our first day out here, I watched a boy of no more than ten take a large stone and throw it at a woman’s skull for no other reason than he wanted the food she had.

He waited until he thought no one was looking, but I saw him kill her for a piece of bread.

I’ve seen the human males, the bulls, grab the most downtrodden of their females and rut them hard wherever they are with no thought to their distress, or their cries.

Last night, I saw a strong female beat a smaller one in a fight for the pleasure of a group of fae around a fire for a warm place to sleep.

No. I look away from the human girl. I’ll keep her alive so that she can be sold, as Bere wants, while we wait and see if Soreno and Tori are snapped up by the bigger fish.

They should be. They’re both just the type that get sold straight to the top of the food chain. And the top is what we need to find.

When we get back to the stable, Bere is there overseeing the bulls being tested for their virility by an interested party.

Having already seen what that entails, I don’t bother to investigate.

I see Jak who hands me a tankard of ale and gratefully let him take the girl to the others while Locke explains to Bere what the healer told us.

I settle onto a bale of hay with my drink with a sigh only to be beckoned over by our inglorious leader as soon as I’ve sat down. I get up, stifling my sound of displeasure and force my face into a mask of indifference as I saunter over.

I nod at Bere and he tries to stare me down. He does this often though I’m at least a head taller than him and twice as broad. I hope I get to be the one who ends his miserable existence when we don’t need his little gang anymore.

‘Locke, Silve, Warrior, Derth, Jak, and Sickle are coming with me to speak to a couple of the buyers for the bulls tonight at the inn by the crossroads outside of town. Hari and Kings will be staying in the stable with the cargo until we return.’ He looks annoyed.

‘But as that pixie cunt of a healer has decided to take an interest in the welfare of the Breach Blet female, my hands are tied. I have to follow her advice in the slave’s care, or she’ll be taken and auctioned to the benefit of the Council’s coffers.

She’s to have food and warmth, and no demands made of her body besides the pleasure of release. ’

I nod, seeing where this is going with a sinking feeling in my gut.

‘I’ve noticed you don’t partake of the slaves, so you will be the one to stay with her in one of the rooms in the tavern.

I can’t trust the others not to rut her or beat her bloody.

’ Bere jabs me in the chest, and I look down at his finger.

He hastily removes it with a cough, covering the movement with a scratch to his cheek.

‘If I entrust her to your care, can I rest easy?’

I let out a sigh as I notice Locke giving me a warning look.

For the mission.

‘Aye, Bere, I’ll keep her safe for selling.’

‘Good. I’ll leave her in your care until we reach the arenas she’s promised to then. Be sure to release her as the healer said. I won’t have her arriving anxious and flighty. I have a reputation for providing them with hearty slaves and good stock.’

I force out an ‘indeed’.

‘Take her inside. I’ll send one of the others in later to give you some respite.’

I nod and watch as Bere and the rest leave. Locke doesn’t grace me with even a glance in my direction.

His single mindedness was why we chose him to lead us in this long-term subterfuge, but sometimes I want to hit him for being such a cunt.

‘Bad luck, Morgan,’ Kings sniggers as I stride over to take the female.

I snarl at him and lunge, playing into the idea that I’m more beast than fae, and I’m gratified by the way he pales and scrambles back.

‘Try not to kill the other two, eh?’ I growl, glancing at the other females who are in the adjacent stall in the straw.

They look bruised, broken and pitiful. I steel myself to the sight. I can do little for them.

Hari snorts. ‘We ent allowed to touch ’em. Bere’s orders. Ent allowed to give them to the bulls to watch some sport neither.’

He sighs but brightens when Kings winks and produces a flagon of wine from the straw. Hari gives him a friendly thump on the back.

‘Aye, good lad! Make sure they’re chained well and we can still have a good night.’

I grab the slave in an iron grip on her forearm and pull her from the barn to the inn across the way.

I’m wondering why Bere is going all the way to the crossroads half an hour away instead of meeting his contacts here, but then I notice that many of the patrons around the tables are shifter sellswords the Council is paying to keep the peace.

I doubt Bere, with his dubious business practices, has a permit to sell humans in this Circle.

He must be trying to offload those bulls on the sly.

I sit the girl at the table. She looks around, clearly surprised.

‘What?’ I snarl.

She looks down. ‘I’m sorry, my lord, but I think...’

Her words are too faint for me to hear over the din of the crowded taphouse.

‘Speak up, girl,’ I say impatiently.

She looks up at me, her eyes flashing in anger that she quickly conceals and I almost chuckle. Perhaps I will turn my back on this slip of a thing. It might be quite entertaining to see her try to overpower me and escape.

‘Slaves sit on the floor,’ she hisses.

I shrug. ‘Who cares? Shut your mouth or you’ll not get any food, girl.’

It’s an empty threat, but she doesn’t know that.

Her lips thin and she looks down at the table’s surface.

A robust troll in a dirty apron brings over a plate and sets it in front of me. He pours me a goblet of wine and glances at the slave sitting at the table, doing a double take as if he hadn’t noticed her properly.

His face twists in anger and before I can stop him, he’s grabbed her by her hair.

‘No slaves on the chairs!’ he bellows, spittle flying from his mouth into her face.

He throws her to the floor and she yelps as she hits the flagstones hard, skidding a little on her hands.

I stand up, towering over the troll. What would a true slave master say in this instance?

‘What the fuck are you doing with my property?’ I thunder.

‘Their kind are for the floor!’

The troll looks at me angrily, tipping his head up to stare into my face and realizing how large I am. He opens and closes his mouth, clearly thinking the better of whatever he was going to say next.

‘She stays on the stone beside you,’ he says after a moment, ‘or you’re not welcome here.’

I give him a narrow-eyed look and he backs away.

I watch as he steps too close to the large barrels stacked up by the wall and bumps one hard.

It knocks into another and falls on him, making him lose his balance and tumble against the hot fireplace.

He screams, pulling a badly burned hand back from the grate.

A female troll rushes from the kitchen with a cry and leads the innkeeper away, berating him for his clumsiness while she fawns over his injury.

The spectacle over, the low hum of chatter returns, and I look at the human. She’s next to the chair on her knees. She suddenly looks much more relaxed than I’ve seen her all day.

I let out a long-suffering noise as I sit down, trying to rid myself of the sliver of guilt I feel that she was hurt because of me.

‘Gods, after all that, they only gave me one fucking meal.’

She glances up at me and then away.

‘What? Speak,’ I order.

‘Bulls eat from a plate on the floor,’ she murmurs, shifting as if uncomfortable. ‘Females are given food from their master’s hand.’

‘You’re joking.’

She shakes her head.

‘This is how you’re fed?’

She shakes her head again. ‘I’ve never been to a place like this. In The Barrack, the bulls ate first and the females picked at whatever was left on the ground after they’d had their fill. There were no tables to not sit at.’

I shake my head and rip a piece of bread off the loaf, putting it between my fingers and trying to give it to her. She winces and shakes her head yet again, opening her mouth.

To say I’m baffled is an understatement. ‘You’re meant to take it with your lips from my hand?’

She nods ruefully. ‘The stew as well.’

‘Well, how the fuck is that meant to work? It’s hardly solid.’

She shrugs. ‘Aren’t slavers meant to know these things?’

I snort. ‘How do you know if you never even left The Barrack?’

‘Slaves talk,’ is all she replies.

I roll my eyes and begin to eat my dinner, leaving several chunks of meat and using the bread to scrape up the juices to give her.

She takes everything daintily, which surprises me. I’d have thought she’d snap at me for it like a wild beast.

I see her tongue dart out and lick her lip where a bit of gravy lingers and I have to look away, my cock suddenly and most unwelcomely beginning to harden.

What is happening? I don’t want this awful little human. I can’t!

I focus on my food, scooping up the last of it and shoving it in my mouth before downing my wine. I stand abruptly, shaking the table as I do. The troll reappears, his burned hand now bandaged.

‘I have a room,’ I growl. ‘Which is it?’

The troll glares at me and points to an archway beside the hearth. ‘Second door. The key is in the lock.’