But no. She had done the only honorable thing that she could have done. She had no choice. She owed Ryken her life, and he was blood: there had been no choice but to submit to this barbarian.
She lost count of how many times she woke and fell asleep again. Each time, the cart would still be lurching along the road, the sound of men’s voices and footsteps stomping on dirt surrounding her. The voyage seemed interminable.
Exhausted, she finally fell asleep. When she awoke, there was an unsettling stillness—the cart had stopped moving—and the sounds of fires crackling around her.
She had barely assessed this situation when the flap flew open and a stranger stood before her: a barbarian warrior, one of Sedrak’s men. Fear stung at her eyes, and she huddled in a corner of the cage, resolute: she would not go with this man. For whatever reason—and she knew it was madness—she was resigned to her fate with Sedrak, but not one of his men. Though it seemed foolish and impossible, she felt safer consigned to Sedrak’s whims than to anyone else’s.
The man opened the door of the cage, reached in and grabbed the leash still affixed to the collar around her neck.
Leola murmured a “No!” but her throat was dry, and she was being pulled by his strong arms and could not stop him from dragging her to the opening of the cage. The best she could do was to scramble out, to keep from being dragged into the dirt, to maintain some of her dignity by clutching her torn garment around her.
When she was standing in front of the cage, wide-eyed with terror, he threw a fur over her shoulders. Tugging on the leash, he led her into the camp.
A sea of tents had been pitched in a clearing. Cooking fires glowed in front of them. Leola stared in wonder. Few of the men looked in her direction, which was a relief. They walked at a quick pace, obviously intending to walk through the camp and not linger there.
At the center of the camp was the largest tent, a triangular flag flapping in the wind above the roof.
Her keeper raised the tent flap and pointed a finger, gesturing for her to enter.
Grateful that he hadn’t beaten her, or worse, she ducked through the entrance and stepped in. The air inside was warm and slightly damp. It smelled of animal skin, meat and earth and wood. A fire crackled in a hearth made out of stones on one end.
She scanned the inside as her eyes adjusted to the light.
Sedrak reclined on a pile of furs. He no longer wore his tunic. His chest and abdomen were bare. Leola’s gaze darted along the lines of muscle that looked like they’d been cut from stone. She still couldn’t quite believe how big he was.
He caught her gaze and smiled.
She turned her eyes down toward the ground.
“Are you rested?” he asked.
She managed a nod. Despite the restless sleep she did feel rested, though she could not imagine why it mattered to this beastly man.
“Take that off,” he ordered, flicking a finger toward her.
Leola bit her lip and hesitated.
Sedrak growled as he rose and approached her. She was reminded of his height and his physical mass once he was next to her; without his tunic, muscles bared, he was even more formidable than before.
Grabbing the fur around her shoulders he yanked it off, exposing her naked body once again.
Leola had barely any time to think before he spun her around, pushed her shoulders with ease to bend her over, and smacked her bare bottom.
The gasp that escaped her throat was involuntary, as much surprise as a reaction to the sharp bite of his hand on her tender flesh. Her skin reignited instantly, the burn spreading across her entire bottom. She tried to lurch away.
His fingers were in her hair immediately.
She winced. Not from pain though, his grip was strangely gentle. More from the shock of it. No one had ever dared treat her that way. And somehow… embarrassing as it was, her body betrayed her instincts as the soft folds between her legs became wet.
His palm fell on her rear again with a loud clap, and another wave of heat radiated from the place where his hand touched her.
Leola sucked in her breath, her eyes wide, her mouth open without words or sounds leaving her lips.
Another smack followed, landing on her other cheek in a firm correction. Heat blossomed in her bottom. It flared up her back until her face was red.
Sedrak spanked her five more times on each side of her rear before straightening and stepping back. “When do you obey my commands?” he demanded.
The question ricocheted in Leola’s mind: she understood the words but could make no sense of them. She glanced over her shoulder at him, unsure of what answer he wanted to hear.
Sedrak gave her another smack, sideways this time. “Always and at once,” he growled. His left hand held her hair still, and his grip tightened. He expected a response.
“Yes,” she croaked.
“Say it.” His palm connected with the other side of her bottom.
“Always and at once,” she said quickly, and then closed her eyes in anticipation of another spanking.
He smacked her bottom again, adding yet more heat to what was already there; the sharp sting faded and her skin throbbed.
“Who is your master?” Sedrak growled.
Her stomach tightened. Still unsure of the answer Sedrak desired, reeling in her mind, the pain on her bottom clouding her thoughts, she choked out the first thing that came to her. “You are.”
“When do you obey your master’s commands?” Another smack. Then another. Her eyes grew wet, even as the stinging pain traveled to the lowest part of her abdomen, curling up into a coil of that funny feeling, the one that made her wet between her legs.
“Always and at once,” she stammered.
“You say your master’s name when you’re finished speaking to him,” Sedrak
