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"Kill me," she hurried to say, sensing that she had captured my attention. "Please…" Panting, she licked her lips and exhaled shakily. "Just put me down."
I stiffened. "No."
"Please."
"No."
"Why not?" she demanded. "You've killed before. You're no angel."
"Because I don’t feel like it," was all I replied.
"You are such a fucking teenager," she hissed. "Dammit to hell."
I rolled my eyes. "Bye bitch."
"Wait!" She wailed loudly and thrashed against her restraints. "I'm being enslaved," she screamed. "And you don’t care."
"We're all slaves," I reminded her. "Luckily for you and the other whores downstairs, your suffering will be short-lived. Your slavery will last a few more years and then your bodies will give out from disease or exhaustion. I will be kept alive for much longer." I narrowed my eyes. "You are here to be fucked. I am here to be both fucked and bred." She sucked in a sharp breath. "I'm a vessel," I continued. "To breed the scum of The Order. As many as my womb can produce. And then I will be milked like a cow for nourishment before they take their children from me and breed me again. Rape. Produce. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Until I am nothing."
"You think that's worse?" she demanded hoarsely. "You have no fucking idea, princess. No goddamn clue. You're pampered and indulged. Wait until you come of age. You'll pray for death just like me, and I hope like fuck that no one shows you mercy!"
"Whatever. Enjoy getting fucked in the ass, whore," I countered and moved for the door.
"Wait – wait. I was in the room that night," she cried out. "When you cut that girl's throat for touching your prince. When she gave him pleasure."
My lip curled up at the memory. "Fuck you."
"You didn’t hesitate when you took her life," she continued to sob. "Please don't hesitate now."
"Why should I kill you?" I questioned, tone level, brow arched. "What could I possibly gain from taking your life?"
"Because I'm a woman," she choked out. "Your own kind. Show some loyalty." She yanked hard on her restraints again. "I had a family once." A broken sob tore from her chest. "People who loved me, and now I'm nothing!"
"I don’t have a kind," I was quick to tell her. "Or a family. My mother abandoned me during infancy and my father gift-wrapped my body to the devil himself. No woman has ever risked shit for me and every man I have ever met has either tried to rape or murder me. I have been beaten and abused, betrayed and tortured by both sides of the spectrum. I learned from a very young age to only show loyalty to the deserving." I looked her over. "And you are not deserving of my loyalty."
"How can you say that?" she cried out, clearly frustrated with me. "You don't even know me."
"Exactly," I deadpanned. "And you don’t know me. But here you are, making demands on my time that you have no right to make. Who are you to ask anything of me? What have you or any of the other whores ever done for me – besides mock and taunt me and try to take what's mine?"
"You're heartless," she strangled out.
"Possibly," I agreed. "But I'm a survivor first and foremost."
"You have to feel something," she sobbed. "Everyone feels something for someone. It's human nature!"
"Yes," I agreed. "That is true."
"And?"
I stared blankly. "And what?"
"And what do you feel for?" she pushed. "What do you have in your life, heiress whore?"
I shrugged simply. "I have a king."
"The bastard prince," she whispered. "You're loyal to him." She sniffled. "And you trust him? A Crellid? You truly believe he'll treat you better than all the others?"
"Yes," I replied without an ounce of hesitation.
