Page 26 of Slaves of Love


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“Will you agree to a bath and a meal?”

“Yes. Whatever.”

“And something to wear?” Her garment had been shredded on the auction block.

“Fine. But no fancy clothing.”

“Agreed. Something simple, but clean.”

* * * * *

Shena followed the guard through the long marble hallways, preparing to meet her fate. Thank heavens some sort of wonderful technology kept the air cool inside this place.

When she’d arrived here, some women had brought her a clean gown and some food, then led her to a bath where she could wash off the sweat that had clung to her ever since arriving on this oven of a planet. After her bath, the women had warned her that the man who’d bought her hated her and wanted to hurt her. It seemed he had known her father. Probably one of his many enemies. Apparently, her new owner had decided to exact revenge on her for whatever wrongdoing her father had wrought.

As if being sold into slavery wasn’t bad enough, she had to be bought by some merciless man just like her father.

The two guards led her through a sumptuous palace, which she hardly saw. They led her up a grand staircase and along a stately hallway, then another, until they reached a double doorway at the end of the corridor. They knocked, then opened the door and led her into a sitting room. The guards turned and left. She heard the click of the lock after they closed the door.

She stood in the center of the finely appointed room, feeling a little faint. Two leather chairs sat facing a large window, the drawn curtains hiding whatever view lay beyond. She longed to sink into one of the chairs and fall into a deep, peaceful sleep, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep even if she dared to sit. Which she did not.

Over the weeks aboard the trader ship, she had learned very well what happened when she disobeyed whatever man happened to be master at the time. Her back still stung from the lashes she’d received, a punishment she’d been told many slave owners preferred, probably for its entertainment value. Just like her father had. She preferred to avoid any more, and she felt certain sitting without being given permission would be considered disobedient.

A door opened, not the one through which she’d entered. She did not look at the man. That would be a sign of insolence. She kept her gaze cast downward.

“Look at me.”

She glanced up at him with unfocused eyes, making out the vague image of a tall, bearded man with dark, piercing eyes.

Keern stared at her, acutely aware of the hollows at the base of her neck and the gaunt look of her face. She had lost weight.

She stared up at him with eyes dull and lifeless, until her gaze caught on his -- and held. A glimmer of fear and possibly ... pain? ... rippled across the placid blue pools, but no recognition.

He strode toward her and grabbed her chin, a little too roughly, and locked gazes with her.

“Look at my face. Do you remember me?”

Confusion washed across her features, and then recognition sparked in her eyes.

“Keern.” His name shuddered from her. Her voice, trembling with torment, quavered slightly.

Chapter Nine

He savored the effect, committing it to memory, tucked away in a place he could retrieve it often to soothe the vivid recall of pain too long subdued. Inflicted by her. Of a heart too long shattered. Broken by her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

His gaze locked on hers and held tight. She shrank slightly.

“I own you, and

I intend to make you pay for the death of my brother.”

She stood trembling.

“You lied to your father. You told him I’d stolen your virginity. He and his men attacked my family. He killed my brother, thinking it was me.”

She shook her head, her eyes wide and liquid. “I know, Keern. I’m so sorry. I --”

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