Page 105 of The Hunted

He didn’t have to like it for it to be.

It already was.

The collar didn’t scare her.

Neither did the man.

Eryx’s hand found the center of her throat, then, and something wicked flashed in his eyes as he gave her a rueful smile that promised fun would soon be coming for her. His fingers flexed at the spikes in her gills, making her drag in a hard breath at the sensation it caused. He dragged her from the passageway to the large bed with a yank of his arm.

She didn’t mind following.

Her back hit the bed, and he hovered above her with that hand still tight to her throat.

“Then, please me,” he said huskily.

She could do that.

That was the easy part.

• • •

“Your breakfast is waiting to be served, my lord.”

Arelle blinked awake at the new voice. Sitting up in the bed, she found the curtains had been pulled around the bed to give her some sense of privacy. Not that she ever cared about that. The way these landwalkers lived, with their constant sense of shame about their most natural functions like nudity never failed to annoy her.

Through the sheer piece of fabric toward Eryx’s side of the bed where he must have exited but not pulled the second curtain quite far enough, she watched the female servant hold out a waistcoat. Eryx slipped his arms through the item before she walked around him to button up the front. She was careful not to touch him directly, but only his clothing. Never did she lift her eyes to meet his gaze. The black velvet of the waistcoat buttoned up the front with large silver clasps from the navel straight up the column of his throat. She’d noticed that—how he always kept his throat hidden.

He glanced Arelle’s way.

And found her awake.

“And the weather?” he asked.

“Still as horrible as yesterday, Prince.”

He grunted under his breath. “I’m learning to like it, actually.”

“Can’t understand why.”

“I didn’t ask if you liked it, did I?”

“Sorry. Anything else?”

“Send Mara up for her to dress Arelle. And promise Arelle won’t fight today about needing to wear a gown and whatever else she puts on her.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“You may leave.”

While the servant found her way out of the private chambers, Arelle sat up in the bed and pulled the sheets higher with her to pool them around her waist. Eryx continued his trek through the space, picking up things here and there that he’d set down the night before. He didn’t, however, speak to her.

Arelle wasn’t sure if that was intentional, or not.

“I don’t fight Mara, but if the woman might speak to me, then she would understand—”

“They’re taught not to speak to slaves unless told otherwise, Arelle.”

Swallowing that was difficult.