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“I…I…”
“Find her,” Farwol commands, and I hear his men burst into my father’s bedroom. This is it. I’m next. They’re going to find me and take me to him. I scoot back further under the bed. All thoughts of being brave flee as I wonder what’s going to happen to me.
Maybe they won’t look under here.
Maybe they won’t see me.
Maybe…
But then the door to my room opens and they walk inside. I see two pairs of muddy boots enter and move to the center of the bedroom.
“She’s not ‘ere,” one of the men says.
They didn’t look under the bed.
I’m safe.
They didn’t find me.
I breathe a sigh of relief, but when I do, my breath kicks up a little flutter of dust from the bedroom floor and before I can stop myself, I let out the loudest sneeze of my life.
“Never mind!” The man says, reaching under the bed. “Found her.”
Chapter 2
I wiggle and thrash my body around as the man pulls me from beneath the bed, but he’s much stronger than I am.
“Feisty little thing,” the man says. He hauls me to my feet and whirls me around, pinning my arms between my back and his chest. I’m stuck now. He wraps a thick, muscular arm over my stomach, yanking me tightly against him. “Don’t move, sweetheart,” he says. “You wouldn’t want to get hurt.”
“Fuck you,” I spit.
“And she’s ill-mannered,” the second man says. The two men guide me roughly out of my bedroom and in the main room where my father is standing beside the biggest, tallest, handsomest man I have ever seen in my life.
It must be Forwal.
It has to be.
He’s taller than I expected; his head almost reaches the ceiling. His shoulders are broad and he’s wearing a snug-fitting shirt that shows off his muscles. The shirt is tucked into a pair of pants that are also too tight and I close my eyes before I have a chance to truly finish looking at him.
This is the man who is ruining my father’s life.
This is the man who is about to ruin my life.
I can’t be attracted to him. That’s wrong. It’s so, so wrong. I can’t be turned on by the way these men are treating me roughly, by the way they’re forcing me to do their bidding. In fairytales, the princesses are always innocent and sweet. They’re never bad or dirty. They never have unclean thoughts about men. They never have dark desires.
Not like me.
“Please,” my father says. “Leave her alone. I’ll do anything you want. Anything!”
“I’m afraid that your word is no longer any good,” Forwal says. I hear him take a step toward me. “Considering the promises you made me just three months ago. You may promises to pay that you have failed to keep, Alerion.”
“I’ll do better,” my father says. “I just need more time.”
“Time is something I will not give you,” Forwal moves closer. I can hear him, smell him. I think if I reach out, I’ll be able to touch him, but my arms are still pinned behind me. With my eyes squeezed shut, all of my other senses are heightened, and I’m very aware of how my body must look at this moment.
My breasts are pushed outward: an offering, an invitation. My lips are pursed together, but judging by the growing dampness between my legs, I’d guess they look sultry: not angry. My breathing is heavy and rushed, which further pushes my breasts out. They’re heaving and heavy. I’m not even wearing a corset. I know Forwal can see all of me, but the thought doesn’t humiliate me the way it should.
“What is your name, girl?” He says. The thought of refusing to answer his question doesn’t pass through my mind.
