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“What is that?” I asked, the aroma strangely familiar but covered over with honey.
All conversation was over. They didn’t answer me.
Removing the robe, they toweled me dry and rubbed floral-scented oil all over my body. This was the most disturbing part because they didn’t miss an inch. The realization of what they were preparing me for iced my blood.
His breeder? Like an animal to be kept here to sleep with him and bear his children. Bile rose in my throat. I swallowed, more determined than ever to get the hell out of here. I inhaled deeply as they wrapped some of the fine gossamer material over one of my shoulders, letting it drape down to mid-thigh, much shorter on them since I was so tall. After tying a gold-braided rope around my waist and putting satin slippers on my feet, I was escorted back to Gaius.
He turned, assessing me with an emotionless sweep of dark eyes. “Come,” he bellowed across the chamber to the other guards, not to me.
He led, expecting me to follow. What other choice did I have? We exited through a different corridor than the one we entered.
“Wait! My clothes.”
“You won’t need them,” he snapped.
“But—”
He continued walking on. One of the other guards nudged me none too gently to keep me moving. I followed, shivering in the cold corridor, now that we’d left the heated bath chamber.
I glanced back once more. The two slaves, Lena and the fiery one, stood mute and at attention, hands cupped and heads bowed in obedience. Slaves. The unbearable humiliation and suffering those girls must feel. And how many others were there? These bastards had to be stopped.
I twisted Saint Portia between my fingers, sending a silent prayer up for those two young women, hoping with all my heart they survived. Hell, I needed to be focusing on my own survival. The pitiful possibility of escape weighed heavy on my spirit as we wound through the tunnels.
Then something came to my attention. We were ascending. The cavern floor sloped upward. We were heading for the surface. My heart skittered faster.
Gauis halted abruptly outside a chamber with steel double-doors. They’d carved them into the cave itself, fitting the giant doors on fist-sized hinges.
“Stand guard,” he ordered the others. They obeyed without a blink, snapping to attention.
Gaius opened the door and guided me into a darkened room. He puffed out a thin flame from his mouth to light the candles on a tiered gold candelabra on a black-wooden settee. He sucked in another deep breath and blew a flame to light the gold-caged sconces on the walls, filling the room with warm light. Plush cream carpeting spread throughout the vaulted room. Crystal chandeliers dangled from the ceilings. Along one wall stretched a massive bed covered in satin black-cased pillows and a furry, crimson coverlet. The headboard was the depiction of a Morgon battle carved in gold. I had a feeling it was solid, not plated. I licked my lips, feeling faint. This place did not look like it belonged at the bottom of a cave. It looked like a madame’s room in a high-end brothel.
“Gaius,” I hissed under my breath.
He returned from lighting the room, his expression grave but no longer bearing the stern look of a mindless commander.
“Please tell me you have a plan of escape.” I licked my lips again, that nasty lip-gloss smeared all over them.
“Yes.”
“Great. We need to move fast before that thing comes back.”
“We can’t go. Not yet.”
“Not yet?” I was screaming in a whisper, knowing Morgons had ultra-sensory hearing, not wanting to alert the guards outside.
“Number one. You’ve been drugged and may pass out in a matter of minutes.”
“What?”
He clamped a fist over my mouth and glanced toward the door, then glared at me, his voice low and dangerous. “That balm on your lips is a kind of sedative. It doesn’t last long, just long enough to keep you calm and docile till he returns.”
I yanked his hand from my mouth, my words tight and fierce. “Why didn’t you warn me what they were putting on my lips?” I rubbed the back of my hand hard across my mouth.
“Because I need everything to seem as normal as possible until the very last second. This brings me to the second reason we can’t leave now. He’ll be back within the hour. That’s not nearly the head-start we need. He has too many men and resources, spies hidden away, even in the Morgon Guard. If we’re to escape and actually survive, we need several hours of a lead.”
“How will we get that?”
“Listen,” he snapped. “I have about twenty seconds before one of the guards peers in here to make sure I’m not fondling the master’s merchandise.”
