Page 17 of Taming the Eagle

Fenella eyed him warily. The tension was too much—she had to know what her fate was to be. However, when she spoke, her voice came out in a croak, betraying her fear. “What are you going to do with me?”

The Eagle approached her then, before hunkering down so that their gazes were level. “You’re my slave now, Fenella. Wherever I go, you shall follow.”

She swallowed hard. “Yourbedslave?”

Their gazes held, and then Aquila’s mouth quirked into a half-smile. “Only if you’re willing?”

“Well, I’m not,” Fenella shot back, her mouth twisting.

His smile faded. “Then you shall serve me in other ways.”

Fenella tensed.In other ways.What did he mean?

Her belly started to hurt then. The Eagle’s words merely highlighted her vulnerability. He could make her promises, but she trusted him no more than her husband.

She was at this man’s mercy—and he knew it.

Aquila rose to his feet and took the lantern down from the roof of the tent, using the burning cresset within to light the brazier. Watching the deft movements of his hands, Fenella noted how different they were from her husband’s. Toutorix had huge, coarse hands with blunt fingers, but although the general’s hands were strong, he had the long elegant fingers of a craftsman.

Like Lorcan.

For the first time in a while, she thought of the man who’d once been her lover—the man she’d planned a future with. Even now, memories of Lorcan made her throat tighten and chest constrict. His lies had cut deep. There had been times, during the first months of her marriage to Toutorix, when she thought the wound would never heal. But in time, the constant ache in her chest had eased—provided she didn’t think about him.

Pushing memories of her silver-tongued lover aside, Fenella tore her gaze away from Aquila’s hands and the memories they dredged up. The brazier was glowing now, and soon its heat would reach her.

However, there was a chill deep within Fenella now, lodged inside her chest.

Men.How she hated them. They bullied her, lied to her, and used her.

And they’d robbed her of the thing she valued the most.

Her freedom.

VI. THE GENERAL’S PRIZE

“ARE YOU HUNGRY?” Justin indicated to where a platter of bread, cheese, and fruit sat on a trestle table next to a ewer of wine.

His slave’s midnight-blue gaze narrowed. “No.”

“Something to drink then?”

She shook her head.

Shrugging, Justin moved to the table and helped himself to a small wedge of cheese and dried plums.

In truth, he didn’t have much of an appetite either this evening. A boulder sat in his gut, and his temples now throbbed. His anger had eased to a simmer, yet whenever he thought of Toutorix, it flared hot once more. Justin triednotto think of the shit-weasel—but it was a difficult task with the man’s wife sitting a few feet away.

A woman he couldn’t take his eyes off. One who’d just made it clear she wouldn’t let him near her.

Her reaction hadn’t surprised him, although the revulsion in her eyes was a blow to his pride all the same.

She’ll warm to me… in time.

Justin lowered himself into a chair and began his light supper. However, he ate without enjoyment. Today had started badly and gone downhill from there.

Toutorix, the cunning bastard, had read him far too easily—but Justin was usually adept at hiding his emotions from others. His slave would never know just how on edge he was tonight.

Yet, as he ate, his gaze often returned to Fenella. He couldn’t help it. There was something about the woman that drew his attention and made it difficult to look away.