He didn’t smile, but he laughed. “I do not want you for myself. I have a worthless mate already. You are too valuable to keep.”
Oh shit. This was not good. Were assholes the same everywhere in the universe? This guy was going to… sell me?
“What… what are you saying?” I asked then swallowed hard. I wanted to hear it from him. To know exactly what the fuck he was doing.
“Enough. Females do not speak.” He reached out and grabbed my arm, his fingers like talons in my skin, and pulled me out of the tent into the bright sunshine. I squinted as I held my robe closed, trying not to trip on the long hem. We were in some kind of encampment, perhaps fifteen or twenty similar tents spread out over the desert. I saw no one nearby, only in the distance. I didn’t dare scream, for they were too far to save me if this guy… Bertok, decided to use his knife on me. I tripped over the root of a scrubby bush. There were also wind-bent trees and rugged mountains in the distance, completely different from inner city Boston. Not a speck of concrete anywhere. Beyond this small clump of civilization, I saw nothing as far as I could see.
The test was supposed to offer me an almost perfect match, and it said Trion? The machine had definitely been broken because I didn’t even like the beach. What the fuck had I gotten myself into? I’d gotten in and out of shit in my time. This, though, was out of my league. Or universe.
He tugged me to another tent. This one obviously belonged to him, for the floors were covered in thick carpets. Pillows and low tables with gilded bowls of fruit and other strange foods upon them. It was exotic… rich. As if this guy would skimp or live without luxuries.
Yanking my arm, he pushed me forward, grabbing the robe as he did so. It slipped from my shoulders, and he let it fall to the floor at his feet. I was naked while he was clothed.
I was fine with my body. I had no real issues with modesty. Sure, I’d been told my boobs were small, but whatever. At least I didn’t give myself two black eyes if I ran. This felt different though. Subjugation. We weren’t equals, and he was making that very obvious.
“If you’re selling me, rape won’t make me more valuable.” I began to shiver, even though it was quite warm. I tipped my chin up. I’d never let anyone see me afraid, and I wasn’t going to start now. I’d never let him see how I really felt. No fucking way.
His white brow rose. “A mouthy female. I’m sure your buyer will enjoy taming you.”
He turned from me and went to a table, picked up a gold chain and what looked like a thick, golden collar. He still held the dagger in his other hand, reminding me as he approached that I was definitely at his mercy. I’d learned long ago fighting back was important but to do it at the right time to stay alive. Now wasn’t the time.
“Kneel.”
I looked up at him, said nothing.
He lifted the knife to my neck, pressed the tip into the skin until the blade bit into my flesh.
Holding my breath, I reached out and grabbed hold of the tent pole beside me, carefully dropped to my knees, careful lest I slash my own throat. Once on my knees, the idea of giving him a BJ made bile rise into my throat. I would definitely throw up if forced.
Reaching out, he set the knife down on a table without taking his eyes from me, telling me without words it was close enough for him to grab. To kill.
With his hands free, he brought the collar forward and locked it around my neck as if I were a dog. I even had a tag, a heavy medallion hung cold and heavy on my chest. He then affixed the chain he carried to one of my nipple rings. I flinched, but he seemed to have no sexual interest in me. His hand moved to the other, affixing the chain to both, however he did so with the tent pole in between. My breaths quivered with my breasts, the chain swinging once he let it go. It was light and dangled only a few inches but… I. Was. Trapped. By. My. Own. Nipples.
What the fuck?
If I tugged, the rings would rip right out. That wasn’t going to happen. The thought alone made my nipples harden. God.
I looked up at Bertok who loomed. “Just as a female should be. Naked. On her knees. Restrained.”
I wasn’t liking Trion all that much. How could I have been in Florida at the Brides Testing Center only a short time ago, and now, I had a dead mate and was a prisoner of a creepy old murderer who planned to sell me?
Had I been sent to Hell instead?
“You’re an asshole,” I muttered.
If he’d wanted me dead, my blood would be spilled beside Naron’s. He needed me alive and obviously unharmed. He didn’t want to rape me. He didn’t even seem overly interested in my body. Based on his words, Trion females were naked, and this kind of weird chaining thing was… normal. Kinky in some situations, but this wasn’t one of them.
Yeah, the testing was so fucking wrong. I had perpetual shitty luck, and it had continued into space. Wait. The match may have been just fine. Naron had been my match not this guy. Bertok was just an evil dick. But sand? Desert? Sooo not me.
“Rest.” He walked toward the tent’s entrance. “We travel to Sector Zero as soon as you are strong enough to transport again. You have a delivery to make, and you won’t do me any good if you’re dead.”
I remembered something the warden had said after my test, that once a bride accepted the match, she is no longer
