Page 25 of Given to the Fae (The Dark Realms #3)

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S omething’s woken me. I lay still, listening for a noise, and I feel a gentle nudge.

My eyes open, expecting it’s a fae come to tell me it’s time to wake.

It is, but it’s the one I least want to see.

Warrior’s expression is dark and smiling. I shiver as I sit up, my heart beating faster when I see we’re alone again.

‘Stand up.’

I do as he says, hoping that one of the others appears sooner rather than later. Since we arrived here, Warrior’s been worse with me.

He sits on the daybed I was just sleeping on, which I’m confused about because the last I remember I was repacking the bags. The sun was still up. I glance out the balcony doors. It’s rising now. I must have been asleep here all night.

‘Take it off.’

My eyes snap to him. ‘My lord?’

‘The dress. Take it off. I want to see you.’

I grit my teeth, and do as I’m told, remembering his threats to make me suffer by making someone else hurt me, so that they’ll suffer too.

The blue wool dress falls around my feet.

‘Turn so I can see you.’

I close my eyes and turn in place, feeling his eyes on me, making my flesh pucker.

‘Gods, you’re ugly.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

His words are expected. Mine are toneless. I give him nothing.

‘So thin and bony. And the burns on your back look like worm droppings. Did you know that?’

‘No, my lord.’

‘Well, they do. Gods, you’re a revolting creature. Looking at you turns my stomach. Locke told me he’s glad releasing doesn’t involve fucking slaves because he’d never be able to do it, not with you. He can barely bring himself to touch you. Know what he said to me?’

‘No, my lord.’

‘He told me he’d rather put his fingers in a dead cat’s arse than your stinking quim. He only does it because he’s been ordered to by Bere.’

I try to hold in the wince, but that one stings and, by his sudden laugh, he’s noticed it. I’ve given him something he can use.

Oh, no.

‘I see! You have a little slave girl crush on the big bad master?’

‘No, my lord.’

‘Yes, you do! Do you touch yourself to thoughts of him, you pathetic creature? Do you release yourself when you’re alone?’

‘I’m never alone, my lord.’

Don’t cry.

‘Do you think to seduce him?’

‘No, my lord.’

He cackles. ‘Put your back to me.’

I turn though every piece of me screams not to.

‘Bend over and touch your toes.’

My eyes clench shut as I do it and he laughs low. ‘Gods, and I thought your tits were bad. Your cunt is as ugly as the rest of you!’

‘Yes, my lord,’ I force out, hoping my voice doesn’t betray me.

‘Stand up. Put your dress back on before I go blind!’

I do as he says and when I look up, I find him so close that I can’t help but take a step back. His mouth is stretched into an impossibly wide smile that makes me quake. He’s planning something and it’s not going to end well for me.

‘You and I are going on a little walk.’

‘Where, my lord?’ I ask as calmly as I can, but he doesn’t answer, just puts the hated leather collar around my neck.

When he pulls me, I don’t move. He can’t hurt me unless he wants to be hurt. He knows that.

‘Come with me now,’ he says with a pleasant smile, ‘or I’ll make sure the next creature to get a fatal dose of fate’s punishments is a child.

How easy would it be for me to show one of those gutter snipes we saw yesterday a coin and tell them all they have to do for it is throw a stone at you? Would fate kill them, Kismet?’

‘I don’t know, my lord.’

‘You don’t know? What about a mother with a few wee ones ’round her skirts, or a frail old dear.’

‘Perhaps they’d deserve it,’ I bluff, but he just chuckles. ‘Let’s see.’

He’s serious. He’ll do it. I don’t want a death on my conscious just because they were desperate for a meal.

‘I’ll go with you,’ I whisper.

‘I know you will.’

He pulls me along and I walk out of the rooms with him. He lets me go as we cross the courtyard and looks back at me. ‘I was going to tell the inn that we wanted you bred by a few of their virile bulls.’

I swallow hard and stumble a little as my knees go weak.

‘But I decided not to.’

I sigh with relief.

‘That would be too easy.’

I curl in on myself as he walks out into the busy street.

He takes care not to hurt me himself, but he plows through the crowds without a care.

I’m bumped and pushed, tripped and slammed into countless times before we get to a tall and foreboding black door a few streets over.

There’s a sign with letters hanging above it, but no picture, so I don’t know where we are.

But it won’t be anywhere good. My breathing is fast, and I attempt to control it and my thudding heart.

It won’t do any good to show fear, in fact it’s been known to make things worse.

I rub my various bruises from the walk absently as Warrior raps on the door.

It looks as if he’s combed his hair and donned some clean black clothes, I realize belatedly, peering again at the building’s front.

But I can discern nothing about what this place is.

As if it’s an afterthought, Warrior throws a long crimson cloak around his shoulders.

The door opens and we’re let inside by a well-dressed, and very thin goblin.

The rings in his ears are black. He turns without a word and I’m pulled with Warrior into an elaborate foyer the likes of which I’ve never seen, not even at the opulent inn Locke brought us to yesterday.

Everything’s black, but there are intricate patterns swirling around the walls and floors.

I think they’re moving, but I can’t quite tell.

‘Ah, Tratril of Gild, I’ve been expecting you. I know you by your House’s distinctive blood red sigil, of course, even if I hadn’t received your message.’

Warrior bows his head at the demon with black and red scales who’s slowly approaching. His robes are grey and golden, and his long curved gleaming horns look as if they’ve been dipped in molten silver.

I blink. He was speaking to Warrior?

‘Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice.’

Warrior sounds different. Poised, and...wealthy. He’s clearly gained admittance here with lies ... and that cloak. But why? What is this place? Why has he brought me here?

‘This is the slave you messaged me about?’

I’m pulled forward without further preamble, and I don’t look up, not even when my chin is taken in a firm grasp and my head lifted so that my face can be seen.

‘And how many times have you tried properly?’ asks the demon.

‘Twelve, if you can believe it.’

‘I can,’ the demon chuckles. ‘You’d be surprised at the lengths some of them will go to not to be bred.’

I freeze at the words, my eyes darting up to Warrior’s. He sees me and gives me a fond smile. ‘I didn’t tell her what we came for,’ he explains to the demon. ‘Didn’t want to upset her. She can be very willful and temperamental.’

The demon nods in commiseration. ‘Bring her to the back room. I’ve got everything set up ready for her.’

I’m pulled along, my body shaking more with every step, my mind darting to scenario after scenario, trying to think of a way out of this.

‘Locke will be furious if you do this,’ I hiss, not sure if it’s the truth, but trying anyway.

But Warrior sniggers. ‘He told me to bring you. He wants to be able to sell you as a breeding mare to the pits.’

My shoulders sink and I will the tears out of my eyes. They won’t be able to do much, I tell myself. They’ll realize quickly what hurting me does to them.

We enter a room that makes my eyes widen.

The walls are covered in whips of all sizes and varieties on one side, and, on the other, various…

I squint at the many objects that adorn the white plaster.

I don’t actually know what they are. The only things I recognize out of the odd assortment are the many phalluses.

There are countless shapes and sizes. They’re made from wood, leather, stone, and many other materials I don’t recognize.

I swallow hard and stop in my tracks when I notice the block. It’s unlike any others I’ve seen. It’s carved in ebony, the patterns similar to the ones on the walls. Warrior attempts to pull me, but I don’t budge.

He chuckles ruefully. ‘You see? Such a stubborn female.’

The demon nods. ‘Aye, she needs a firm hand. Come, female.’

I don’t move and the demon chuckles. ‘The young she breeds will have spirit as well but worry not. There’s just as big a market for those types of humans as well as the submissive ones.

I know of one fae female in particular who buys simply for the pleasure of breaking them. She pays very well for them, too.’

‘Aye?’ Warrior looks intrigued. ‘What’s her name? Perhaps we’ve crossed paths.’

The demon looks disbelieving. ‘Fiana, but I doubt you know her. She rarely leaves her Circle, I hear.’

‘Well, if today is a success, I’ll keep her in mind, and perhaps you can arrange an introduction.’

Warrior looks around the room, a nasty gleam in his eye. ‘How do you usually begin?’

The demon eyes me. ‘That depends. Your note was vague. Let’s start with how many bulls you would like to mount her.

Would you rather she was in the block, or left free for them to catch?

I’ve found some of them react favorably to the idea that they might escape their fate before they’re caught and encouraged to submit. ’

‘And can you guarantee the seeding will be successful?’

The demon shrugs. ‘There are no guarantees with humans any more than with horses or sheep, but I have found that being seeded by four or more has better results. And, once it’s done, we usually keep their wombs angled upward for a time to keep the seed from leaking out.

The results are more positive. So, what say you? ’

Warrior makes a show of thinking, his cold eyes alight with excitement when he looks at me.

‘Let’s start with your three largest...in the block. I don’t want her running around and hurting herself.’ He turns to me and pulls me by the rope, a cold smile twisting his features. ‘Come on, girl. We don’t have all day.’