“Still don’t care. Tell me why you need my help.”
For a second, I think he might be irritated enough to abandon the idea altogether. But then he crosses his arms over his broad chest, muscles flexing beneath his tunic, and resigns himself to ignoring my attitude. “Too many witnessed me purchasing you for a hefty sum last night. If I am seen without you, it will raise questions and invite them to look into my identity and purpose for being here. I need to be overlooked as just another traveler exploring the kingdom with his new pawn.”
“Pawn?” I echo, the word leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.
“The name for servants who are not employed but rather owned.”
I clench my teeth so hard they might crack. Objectively, I understood last night that I was being auctioned off to the highest bidder. But hearing it said out loud—and realizing now that it was in factreal—is another thing entirely.
“We have a different word for that where I’m from,” I grate out. “Treating humans like property is a vile fucking practice, no matter what it’s called.”
His expression grows somber, and he dips his chin in acknowledgment. “On that, we can agree. Your role as a pawn will be solely for the sake of appearances. Once I have my invitation to the Mabon Festival, I will take you to someone who can help you return home. Do we have a deal?”
I study his face, searching for any hint of deceit. His storm-gray eyes hold steady, his gaze unwavering under my scrutiny. The tension in his jaw softens slightly, as if he’s trying to appear less imposing. A flicker of sincerity crosses his features, but I can’t be sure if it’s genuine.
I need to think—fast. Maybe agreeing to his deal is actually in my best interest. If I play along, not only will I get out of this room with an escort who will protect me from any strange men—well, other strange men—but he’ll also take me to someone who can get me back home. He knows a lot more about this world than I do, and in the grand scheme of things, a week isn’t really all that long.
However, time might actually be a critical factor. What if the portal or whatever brought me here is closing? I can’t risk waiting a week to find help.
Plus he’s hiding something. I can feel it. Trusting others has never been my strong suit, and I shouldn’t change that now. I need to control this situation, save myself, go along with his plan until I find an opportunity to escape.
“First, let’s get one thing straight,” I declare, lifting my chin defiantly. “I’m not your property, and I won’tact like I am.”
“Understood. But for our ruse to be convincing, there will be times when appearances must be maintained.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And how do you suggest we do that?”
He steps a little closer, the space between us shrinking. “By blending in. That means adopting the customs and attire of this kingdom. It will help us both avoid unwanted attention.”
I glance down at my tank top and yoga pants. “I suppose I do stand out.”
Taking a deep breath, I weigh my nonexistent options. If playing along gets me closer to finding a way home, so be it.
“Okay, Gary, we have a deal,” I say, extending my hand for a customary shake.
He ignores it entirely, his eyes narrowing as his lip curls in a subtle sneer. “Do not call me that again, nymph, or I will place you over my knee and spank the insolence out of you.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks at the image he’s painted in my mind. I wish I could say it was from embarrassment, but that would be a lie. “You’re the one who doesn’t want to share names. If you can call me a nymph, then I can call you Gary.”
“Fine,” he growls. “Tell me what to call you, and I will do the same.”
Feeling petulant, I consider refusing. But that would be childish. Or at least more childish than naming him after SpongeBob’s pet snail, not that he’d get that reference either. “My name is Elara, but people usually callme El for short.”
“Elara,” he repeats softly, the syllables rolling slowly as though he’s savoring the word against his tongue. Like it’s the first one he’s spoken after a lifetime of silence. His gaze softens, and I swear desire flashes in his eyes before it disappears like a wisp of smoke.
He turns away abruptly, moving to a chair to gather up a stack of folded clothes I hadn’t noticed. He drops them in my arms. “Put these on,” he instructs gruffly. “I’ll step out into the hall.”
Just before he reaches the door, I call out. “Wait. What do I call you?”
He pauses, glancing back over his shoulder with a half grin. The devious tilt of his mouth reveals a single dimple in his right cheek. “You may call me ‘my lord.’ For now you are mine.”
Chapter Five
Ronan
“Like hell I will!” There’s fire in her eyes as she hisses the words.
I smile and step into the hall, closing the door behind me. She might have the soft appearance of a nymph, but she’s as spirited as Sabre, and I’ll wager twice as willful. Passing her off as a docile and subservient pawn is likely to be more difficult than it was to saddle break the wild stallion.
