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“You’d let that happen?”
“These women are nothing to me. I have no conscience,witch. Haven’t you noticed the bones in my private quarters. Who do you think they belonged to?”
This time I can’t stop the puke from rising up my throat and erupting from my mouth. I turn my head away, the contents of my stomach splattering across the tiled floor.
His laughter at my reaction has an odd affect on me. I’m not scared. I’mangry.
Swiping the back of my hand over my mouth, I glare at him. “Youbast–”
Before I can even finish, Soren’s fist makes contact with the side of my head. The weight of his fist like a rock against my cheek. I nearly lose my balance as I struggle to regain my composure, the buzz in my ear loud, the pain almost overwhelming.
"You fuck me off one more time and it won't be one of my men taking your cunt until you bleed, butme," he says, before turning his back on me and walking across the room without another word.
I'm left quaking with anger and a residual fear that’s not for me but these women, for Faith. But I shut it down quickly before it has time to incapacitate me. Instead, I force my spine straight and my shoulders back.
Fuck him.
Fuck. Him.
“On the floor!” Soren orders.
Most of the women lie down immediately, fear making them submissive, but one has a spark of fire in her eyes, and she glares at Soren. I want to tell her to do as she’s told, to not take courage from my reaction to the bastard, but before I can do anything Three-quarter Skull grabs her by the arm and shoves her forcefully to the floor.
“Get on the floor where you belong, bitch!” he growls.
She falls hard, the sound of a bone breaking ricochets around the room as she puts out her hand to brace her fall. Crying out, she holds up her hand, the middle finger on her left hand bent at an awkward angle. Just like that, the fire in her eyes dims.
“Witch, get over here. Now!” Soren orders, waving at me impatiently before turning his attention to Three-quarter Skull. “A word.”
They move to the far side of the room, talking together as I swallow the anxiety rising up my chest and drop to the floor in front of the woman with the broken finger. She’s clutching her hand to her chest, tears falling silently down her face.
“I’ll be gentle, okay?” I reassure her, resting my hand on her knee, my fingers trembling, feeling sick at what I’m being forced to do.
“I’m not a virgin,” she whispers, her eyes filling with tears.
My stomach churns, knowing what that means for her. She’ll be at the mercy of the Skull Brotherhood at their night of celebration. It doesn’t bear thinking about. Then again, neither is being sold to a sexual deviant who has requested virgins to fuck and murder for his own sick pleasure.
Forcing myself not to panic, I look from the woman in front of me to the rest, whispering under my breath. “I can buy you time. That’s all I can do,” I say, hoping that they understand I’m trying to help them.
“They’ll hurt you if you lie,” the woman in front of me whispers back.
“It’s a chance I’m willing to take,” I hush out, placing myself between the woman’s legs and pretending to examine her whilst Soren is distracted behind me.
If I say that they’re not virgins at least they won’t be sent to their deaths tomorrow. It will give me time to spike the Skull Brotherhood’s food, and in turn give us all a fighting chance until The Masks and the Deana-dhe come. And they will come. Ihaveto believe that.
Moving on to the next woman, I give her a tight smile, my hands shaking as I skate my fingers over her centre, barely touching her, but having to make it look as though I am. She blinks up at me, her deep brown eyes pooling with tears at the invasion of her personal space.
“I’m so sorry,” I mouth, my hands trembling.
Behind me the conversation between Soren and Three-quarter Skull finishes. I move quickly to the next woman. She seems younger than the first two, no more than twenty at a guess. Her mouth trembles and her gaze whips from my face to somewhere behind me.
“Well?” Soren asks.
“So far all three have broken hymens,” I say, looking over my shoulder and meeting his gaze with as much confidence as I can muster.
Hehasto believe me.
“Move on to the next,” he orders.
