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Laryn wondered how long they’d been down here, and what Altan was trying to force them to do.

She didn’t have much time to think about that as they walked up a set of stairs, through one locked door, then another. She caught a glimpse of the large hangar as they went past a door with a window, before Mert paused at another flight of stairs.

“I will arrange for your dinner to be brought to your room. Ten minutes, Laryn. Then you have five to eat. I expect to see you down here to start work in twenty minutes, no later. Mert.” He nodded at her jailor and went through the door into the hangar.

Mert pulled her up the stairs, and Laryn hated to admit that she was glad for his strength.

The steps wiped her out, and she was dizzy by the time they arrived at the top.

Mert pushed open the stairwell door and walked her along a quiet hall, stopping about halfway down at a door with the number four on its surface.

He took out a key, unlocked it, and shoved her inside, slamming the door behind her.

It figured that the man had a key to her new room and she didn’t. Laryn didn’t see any kind of lock on her side of the door. Unable to help herself, she reached for the doorknob. It didn’t budge.

Locked in. Perfect. Why was she not surprised?

She was uneasy that Mert could enter her room at any time, making her feel more vulnerable than if she was still locked in the cell under the hangar floor.

Looking around, she saw she was in a room no bigger than a walk-in closet back home.

It had a narrow cot that looked smaller than a twin-size bed and a table no bigger than a nightstand.

At the back of the “room” was a metal toilet, a sink, and a shower head sticking out of the wall.

It was a step up from the cell she’d been in for the last week, but not a very big one. At least there was a blanket and pillow on the bed, even if the mattress on the cot was extremely thin. And a toilet. She was grateful to see that.

Conscious of time going by, and certain Mert would return in exactly ten minutes, as Altan had said, she took off her boots and peeled off the coveralls she’d been wearing for the last week.

Her tank top and underwear soon followed.

They were disgusting, but all Laryn’s focus was on getting into the shower.

There was a bar of soap lying on the side of the tiny sink, and she picked it up eagerly then turned on the water.

It was little more than a trickle, but the water smelled clean enough.

Lathering the bar of soap, Laryn quickly scrubbed herself from head to toe. Then again. And again. She suds-ed up her hair, doing her best to wash it, even though the soap probably wouldn’t be too effective. Anything was better than nothing.

A threadbare towel was folded and lying on the end of the cot.

Aware that too much time had passed, Laryn tried to dry herself as quickly as she could.

Her plan was to put her soiled tank top back on, since she literally had nothing else to wear, but first she’d wash her underwear and leave it out to dry when she was forced to go downstairs to the hangar.

She heard the key in the lock way before she was ready. Panicking, she did her best to wrap the tiny towel around herself.

Mert walked into the room, carrying a tray and a plastic bag.

He stared at her with lust in his eyes, and adrenaline flowed through Laryn’s bloodstream.

He didn’t force himself on her, didn’t do anything more than stare inappropriately, but it still felt like a violation.

Especially because she was sure he was thinking about later, when he didn’t have a deadline, when he’d be free to take what Altan had so obviously already given to him—her.

Without a word, he put the tray on the table, as well as the bag. Then he turned toward the door. He walked out, locking the door behind him once more.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Laryn looked down at the bag he’d brought. Curiosity had her walking over to look inside—and pleasure hit for the first time in days.

Clothes. And they were clean.

Pulling them out, she saw it was a uniform, much as Mert had been wearing.

There was no underwear, but she didn’t even care.

She dropped the towel and pulled the pants up her legs.

They were too long and too big around the waist, but again…

clean. There was no bra included in the bag, and Laryn refused to go without.

So she reluctantly put her tank top back on.

It almost physically hurt to wear the stinky garment, but she had no time to wash it before she was expected to get to work.

The shirt she was given, surprisingly, was too small.

Whoever had estimated her size was an idiot, or they’d misjudged the size of her boobs.

Maybe the shirt was meant for a man her height, which made sense, as he wouldn’t have to worry about the extra room she needed at the bust. The buttons strained, but she was covered, that was all that mattered.

She put the clean socks on, they too were too big, but at the moment she didn’t care, and quickly put her boots back on. She felt way too vulnerable without shoes on.

Her stomach growled at the smell coming from the tray, but Laryn quickly went to the sink and washed her panties with the bar of precious soap. She hung them from the shower pipe sticking out of the wall, then turned her attention to the food.

She had no idea what she was eating, just that it was the best meal she’d had in over a week.

It was some sort of rice with sauce and mystery vegetables.

She would’ve liked some protein, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

She also gulped down the water that was included with the meal.

She could almost feel her body soaking in the nutrients.

Suddenly, Laryn was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open. Being clean, having eaten, her body was ready to shut down, to replenish some of the sleep she’d missed while in the dungeon.

But that would have to wait. The key in the lock alerted her to Mert’s return. His gaze went from her feet, up her legs, to her hand holding the waistband so the pants didn’t fall down, up the straining material over her chest, and finally, to her eyes.

Her hair was still wet, hanging around her shoulders, dampening the material of the uniform top, and he smirked. He walked up to her and stood in her personal space, forcing Laryn to crane her neck to keep her eyes on him.

“Wives walk behind their husbands,” he informed her, speaking for the first time. His English was impeccable, with almost no accent. If she’d met him in the States, she wouldn’t have thought he was anything other than a man born and raised there, which for some reason made him all the more scary.

“I’m not your wife,” she found the courage to say.

“Yes, you are. Altan gave you to me. That’s how it works here. You do what he says, we all do what he says, and in return, he gives us what we need and want. What I want is a wife. And now I have one. Walk behind me. Three paces. No more, no less,” he ordered, then turned toward the door.

Laryn was stunned. This couldn’t be happening. But it was.

Mert got to the door and looked behind him. He saw she was still standing where he’d left her, so he turned and walked back.

Without warning, his hand flew out and he backhanded Laryn. Hard.

She fell onto the bed, hitting her hip on the metal frame and crying out in pain from both strikes.

“Wives walk three steps behind their husbands at all times,” he repeated slowly, as if maybe she didn’t hear him the first time. “If they don’t obey, they are punished.”

Laryn wanted to cry, but she wouldn’t give this asshole the satisfaction. She slowly stood, her cheek throbbing. It was probably red, maybe even had the imprint of his hand. But she had a feeling no one would dare say a word about it.

He’s coming , Laryn told herself silently as she fell in behind Mert as he left the room. Tate’s coming. You just have to hang on until then.

But with every minute that passed, Laryn worried that she wasn’t strong enough. That she wouldn’t be able to do this. She was beginning to think that staying in the dungeon would’ve been preferable to whatever was in store for her up here.

Swallowing hard, she took a deep breath. Then another.

No. She could do this. Had no choice. She’d endure whatever she had to until help came.

Please let help be coming.