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I raise a brow at him because I didn’t expect such a luxury as hot water and soap, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he refills my water cup and then picks up my empty tray.
‘You have until seventh chime before Dane gets here. We go whether you’re ready or not.’
He leaves, and I wait for the door to lock behind him before I rise slowly, gripping the wall to get to my feet. I pull the stinking sack over my head and fling it into the corner before I kneel with a grimace in front of the ewer of hot water and sink the cloth into it. I lather myself with the soap everywhere, taking this opportunity to get as clean as possible because I don’t know when I’ll next get the chance.
My body prickles with awareness, and for a moment, I’m sure I’m being watched. I glance at the keyhole in the door. It’s black. The key is still in it, so I know there’s no one using it to spy on me.
I shrug off the feeling and can’t help my moan as I wring out the cloth and put it to my skin. It’s so hot still.
Standing, I scrub the soap from my body, trying not to notice the evidence of the beatings I received while I was unconscious. At least there’s no sign that anything else happened. I suppose I should be grateful that Grey got me out when he did, or Lire would likely have changed that.
He deserved to die.
I drop the cloth, and it thuds to the floor. I force the feelings away, realizing how depleted I must be for the tendrils of the insidious darkness inside me to be so easily winding through my mind and warping my thoughts.
I bend down to pick up the cloth and put it in the now brown water, and as I do, I hear a noise that sounds like a groan from the other room. I freeze, listening, but I don’t hear anything else, so after a moment, I grab the new sack and put it on.
It’s much the same as the old sack, but Kallum was right. At least now I don’t stink.
* * *
I stare at the image of her in the looking glass, hardly able to believe my luck when I heard Dane and Grey talking about this earlier when I was standing outside in the hall.
She looks at the door as she takes off the sack and flings it away. My eyes stare at her long legs, toned arms, and slightly round stomach from where she absolutely inhaled the pie I left her. Her tits are high, and her nipples are erect, I notice. I feel myself hardening as I watch her bathe, hoping this isn’t the only time I’ll get a chance to watch her like this.
She kneels down in front of the ewer, and I congratulate myself for the success of my nefarious plan to see her body, but I frown as I see the pain on her face. The marks all over her speak of more than one beating while she was in the hands of the City Guard, which isn’t a surprise, and she deserves that and more, but there are tiny bruises all over her breasts and thighs, too. I find that the evidence of fingers where they shouldn’t have been is where I draw the line when it comes to her.
My gaze darkens at the thought of what was done and what else may have been done, and I don’t bother examining the why of it too carefully. I don’t like that they touched her before me, is all.
I wonder if it was Lire, the jailor, or Pikerd and his men, but it doesn’t matter. Lire’s dead already, and I’ll make sure Pikerd pays with blood before I meet Dane and Grey at the boat later.
My eyes don’t leave the looking glass as she stands slowly and washes the soap away. Her tits jiggle with the scrubbing motions, and then she bends over, and I can’t help my low groan as I get a glimpse of what’s between her thighs.
She freezes, her eyes darting around the room as she again suspects someone’s watching.
‘I can’t wait to fuck you,’ I whisper as she throws on the cleanish sack I gave her, thereby ending the show. ‘I’m going to let you enjoy it even though you’ve been such a naughty girl that you don’t deserve it.’
‘Troll.’ I turn away from the mirror as it goes blank, and I meander around the room a bit so she doesn’t suspect anything. After a few minutes go by, I unlock the door and walk into the storeroom.
She eyes me suspiciously, and I successfully stifle a grin. I pull a packet of pain powder from my pocket and hand it to her. She takes it wordlessly, but there’s definitely gratitude in her eyes.
I wonder if getting her into my bed will be as easy as simply being kind.
I almost laugh out loud at how pathetic that’d be. Surely, it wouldn’t be so straightforward. She’d play me the same as I’d play her.
Hmm.
Maybe she wants to be in my bed. Maybe she thinks she’d get special treatment from me. Intrigued at the thought, I take a step forward, letting my eyes move over her … just to test the waters a little.
Did I see a flare of arousal in her eyes? I watch her closely as she takes a step back, her expression shuttered.
‘Are you afraid of me?’ I ask quietly.
She shakes her head, and I sneer at her, taking another step toward her. Her back hits the wall, and she lets out a pained squeak that cools my blood slightly. I want the sounds she makes for me to be of pleasure, not pain. Well, maybe a little of both.
I stand in front of her, noting the slight shaking of her body as I gently take the sachet of pain powder from her fingers. She grips it tighter for a moment as if she thinks I’m going to take it away from her, but instead, I rip it open and take hold of her throat gently. She looks up at me in adorable confusion, her eyes widening a little as I exert the tiniest amount of pressure on her neck.
She is afraid, but she likes it too; I’d bet my favorite knife.
