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“I’m Olivia.”
“How average.”
I clicked my tongue. He didn’t even know my name when he bid for me. We really were just objects to them. “What is it you do, Hamza?” I asked. Right now, as I opened myself to his feelings, he was calm, a little intrigued, and I wanted to keep it that way, for as long as possible anyway.
“I work at the castle.” He tilted his head, his gaze trickling over the visible top half of my body from across the table. “You remind me of someone. That hair of yours, it’s so unique. Most redheads I’ve met have auburn tones, but yours, it’s the color of blood.” His eyes brightened. “Very rare, coveted even.”
“Who do I remind you of?”
His lips curved up. “No one I’d want to sleep with.”
My lips trembled. “Do you come here often?”
He waved a hand lazily. “Occasionally, when they have something worth buying. I got the message of a sorceress being sold here less than an hour ago. It was worth the trip.” He reached across the table, placing a manicured hand over mine.
Instinctively, I slipped mine out from under his, putting it on my lap.
“They say a sorcerer’s blood is unlike anything a normal mortal can offer. Liquid euphoria,” he enunciated, “I have tasted it once before, but even with two of your people at court, we are denied such pleasures.” His nostrils flared, annoyance rippling from his aura. “The king has a soft spot for your kind. He loves magic and desires an heir. So, naturally, only a sorceress like yourself could tempt him.”
My heart raced. Was that why my mom was there, to be used for breeding? “You say there are two sorcerers at court. Is at least one of them a woman?”
A laugh bubbled from his mouth. “Aren’t you a curious little thing?”
“Maybe I am,” I said, deadpan.
He looked down at the table, let out a small sigh, then his gaze climbed back to mine. “Conversation time is over.”
I could feel his want from here. “I’m still hungry,” I lied, moving my hands toward the bowl of strawberries.
“You had your chance to eat. I’ll allow you another meal after.”
Goose bumps spread over my arms, and every impulse in my body urged me to run as he stood, but I wouldn’t make it to the door before he’d catch me. They were faster than anything I’d seen before. “I’m not feeling well.”
He slid out of his navy-blue blazer and folded it over the back of his chair, then tugged at his silver cufflinks. “Remove your dress.”
This wasn’t happening. I flinched when he scraped the chair under the table, my shoulders tightening. Beads of sweat formed on my upper lip. He wanted me to try to fight. Challenge burned in his eyes, waiting, watching. I was the mouse, he was the cat, and his show of elegance and mortality was an act, a mask he enjoyed wearing to hide the evil underneath. Until he didn’t want to anymore.
“Remove your dress,” he ordered again, his tone sharpened.
I expelled a scant breath, my fingers trembling. “No.”
His fangs showed when he grinned. “You will remove your dress, or I will tear it to ribbons.”
I clutched at my chest, holding the fabric under my curled fingertips. Then, stumbling backward, I knocked my calf into the leg of my chair, sending a shot of pain up into my thigh.
He walked to me, his head curving as his expression darkened and eyes rimmed red. He reached me and tore the side of my dress, pushing me back against the wall, knocking the breath from my lungs. His fangs glinted as he curled his lips back, then brought his mouth down to the side of my neck. A whimper escaped my lips as they sank through my skin, bringing with them an agony I’d known twice before.
His hand ran up the inside of my thigh as I felt the blood leave my body, slurped between his lips. It took every ounce of strength I had to bring my knee up and into his groin.
He stumbled back, reaching for his dick, gritting his teeth. I pushed back, kicking up again and landing another hit against his growing length. He let out a low growl, a sadistic smile building as I ran for the door. I slammed against the wood panels, grasping for the doorknob, turning it in my sweaty palms. The door cracked open, spilling in light from the hallway.
Gasping, I took off running. I was shocked at how far I made it until a hand gripped my wrist, jolting me backward. The touch felt different; his rage pierced into me, a difference from the starkness I’d felt from Hamza this whole time.
“Stand behind me.”
I pressed my palms to my eyes, relief pouring through me. I’d never thought I’d be so happy to hear Sebastian’s voice.
“They sold me in the auction,” I explained shakily.
