The old woman was definitely chuckling as she left the house, but I scarcely noticed, because Kragorn’s hand settled gently on my hip and I realized my breathing had gone all shallow again.
“WhateverI need, lass?” he murmured.
And I swallowed, thinking of that hard, ridged cock, and how he’d brought me pleasure twice now, and how he must also ache for release. But I washis, his captive, and it was my responsibility to care for him in this, was it not?
With my pulse hammering in my ears, I slowly turned, so as not to knock away his touch.
“Aye, Kragorn. W-what do ye need me for?”
I felt his fingers dig into my hip, just for a moment, but I kept my gaze locked over his head, terrified of what I might reveal if I glanced down at his eye. Would he expect me to drop to my knees here in front of him? I remembered that position from my sister’s illicit scroll,A Harlot’s Guide to the Forbidden and Delightful Arts. Or would he expect me to bend over and lift my skirts?
A sound like a rumble came—not from his lips, but from Kragorn’s chest, and to my surprise, when he spoke, ‘twas not to make such wickedly wonderful demands.
Rather: “I need a bath. Arealbath, lass, in the hot springs. And I need ye to go with me, to ensure I dinnae fall.”
Oh.
Confused, I dropped my gaze to his face, searching for subterfuge. I found only honesty, as he made a show of sniffing himself.
“Hot springs?” I asked, and his brows rose.
“Ye’ve been herehowlong, and ye havenae visited our hot springs? Och, ‘tis one of the best parts of Bloodfire Village. I cannae believe ye havenae?—”
“I am your prisoner,” I reminded him. “I have been here, caring for you.”
Those brows lowered again to a thoughtful frown, and his hand dropped away from my hip, which made me feel…bereft somehow.
“Ye are mine, Lillian, aye, but no’ my prisoner. Never my prisoner.”
I blinked, uncertain what he meant.
“Not…?”
In a sudden explosion of movement, Kragorn stood, catching me by my shoulders when I stumbled backward.
“Ye’re going to bathe with me, lass. Get yer things. I ken ye’ll enjoy it.”
I told myself I was obeying him because he was my master, but that didn’t explain why I so eagerly met him by the door, my soap and cleaning rag clutched in my hands. It didn’t explain why I was almost breathless in anticipation as he settled my borrowed shawl around my shoulders, or the way I snugged up against his side as I shuffled through the stamped-down snow. Or why his statement that I wasn’t his prisoner was only a glimmer shoved quickly to the back of my mind.
He couldn’t have meant it. I knew how the world worked. No one could have been treated as harshly as Kragorn had and not make use of a hostage against further attack. Mayhap I wasn’t exactly a prisoner – I’dhad full run of the cottage and the village for weeks now, and my treatment by the villagers had been accepting and kind – but my main purpose was as revenge against my father.
Kragorn may enjoy my service – and my body – while I was here. But I knew in my heart I was only a hostage. My only value lay in what safety I could bring to his people.
No matter how different my feelings this time, I was again naught but a pawn to a powerful man.
“Here, lass, ye’re shivering,” he said abruptly, wrapping one of his arms around me and pulling me closer. “I’ll need ye here in case I slip and fall.”
“To catch you?” I struggled out of my despairing thoughts.
“Aye.” I heard the smile in his voice. “To catch me.”
He was wrapped in my father’s fine fur cloak, and now so was I. A fitting reminder of my transfer of ownership.
However, in the sennight I’d been in Bloodfire Village, I’d learned that wealth wasn’t a parade the way ‘twas at Tarbert Keep. Everyone here shared what they had freely, and no one worried about showing off. While once I might have believed Kragorn still wore my father’s cloak to remind me of my status, I now wondered if he wore it simply because ‘twas warm.
What would happen in a few weeks, when the passage between our worlds opened again? I could not imagine my father going to war for me, but would he expect me back? Would my status as hostage be proven? Or did my father care so little for me he would risk my life in battle?
I didn’t want to go back to the human world.
