Page 45 of Forge the Blade

Sevastyan tipped the bottle up, taking a slow sip, eyes on Alexi.

“Did you tell me everything?” Alexi said finally. “About my fox? Was he . . . worse, like this, when he came here?”

“What I knew,” Sevastyan said. “If he told Rei more, I haven’t asked. He was very sick. Thin.”

“Morocco.” Alexi said the word like a curse. “I trusted Marty.”

“That’s who was running the cruises?”

Alexi nodded. “We go way back. He ran stock with me sometimes, back when I was still moving merch.”

The man was so close. He just had to give Alexi time to work it out.

Alexi rubbed a hand over his head. “He always took good care of the slaves. Didn’t lash out, never handled them drunk. He understood value. Didn’t need to be brutal. Kept them healthy. I told him Lisa was private stock, not to be used. Wait staff work only.”

So, so close.

Alexi lifted his eyes. “Spit it out. You’re thinking so loud I can hear it.”

Sevastyan shrugged. Now he just had to keep it light. “Marty’s probably great with stock. Lisa’s not stock.”

“No, he’s a pet, a wild, barely manageable animal.” Alexi smiled ruefully.

Sevastyan smiled back. “Just like you named him.”

Alexi chuckled and shook his head. “I should listen to myself more often.”

“Call me. I’ve listened to you so much I can just repeat it back to you.”

Alexi laughed. “Well, then, in that case, what would I tell myself?”

Sevastyan collected his posture and swirled his drink around in the bottom of the glass, watching the liquid grow shallow in the center and deep on the outer edges. “Even though we hold all the power, a slave is a material, with properties that have to be respected. Clay cannot be fashioned the same as steel. Sometimes you have to play with a material for a while before you can see what it can become.”

“I keep playing with my fox, and I never see the end,” Alexi said. “That’s why I sent him to Morocco. I wanted to see if that would resolve the picture.”

“Perhaps it did.” Sevastyan glanced towards the closed door where Lisa was now sleeping, wrapped around Rei, the video still live on Alexi’s phone screen.

“What do you see?” Alexi asked, eyes watching Sevastyan with careful attention.

“Beauty.” He let awe seep into his voice. “You see how thin he is, how weak. How Dirk’s men hurt him. And he killed them all. Rei fought too. But Lisa . . . He survived the dog fights for a reason.”

“I thought I rescued him from something terrible, but you’re saying . . . there was something true about him, in the pits?”

Sevastyan nodded. “I’m not saying send him back, he’s wasted there. But his instincts . . .” Sevastyan shook his head.

“Those types of instincts have no place in being a pet or a slave,” Alexi murmured. “Did he let you fuck him?”

“He would have. I chose not to. You know I only fuck Rei.”

“But if he were yours, exclusively, would you and could you?”

Sevastyan shrugged. “I could.”

Sevastyan

Sevastyan and Alexi went out to dinner that night. It was the first time in years they had spent so much time together without their slaves. Alexi folded his arms in front of him on the table. “Tell me about this plan you have, to deal with Dirk.”

“My mother is having a soirée in England.” Sevastyan’s voice darkened as he used his knife to separate meat from the bone on his plate. It wasn’t a conscious choice, but he allowed it. “I called her and asked if she could ask someone to invite Dirk.”