Page 18 of Sold Wolf Slave

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” I said. “I’m trying to stop it from continuing to happen.”

She blinked up at me with gray eyes, less suspicious than before but still guarded and full of caution. She pushed her red hair back so it cascaded down her back, and the light caught it in a way that made it look on fire.

“Guys will say just about anything if they think it’ll make their slave more docile,” she pointed out, though the harshness that sharpened every word seemed to have been filed down around the edges.

I let out another long exhale. She had a point. But it wasn’t as though I had tangible proof I was there to help her. There was no reason for her to trust me. But I needed her to trust me for this mission to work.

No, it wasn’t just that. Iwantedher to trust me. Something about this woman made me desperately crave her trust like it was an insatiable need. I couldn’t describe it other than that.

“I’m part of the Gold Wolves,” I explained. “Do you know who those are?”

“Vaguely.” She gave me a look that indicated quite clearly she trusted me slightly less than she could throw me. “Some sort of special-ops military group, right?” When I nodded, she leaned forward, her face inches from mine, her eyes burning brilliant green. “Then what on earth are you doing hunting for a slave? Don’t you have plenty of women falling over themselves to get a scrap of your attention?”

“I came here to investigate a rumor. I have no interest in having a slave.”

“And yet, you fought for me and won.” Her face was stone, that sharp, pointed jaw jutting out in a way that made her look almost regal, even as she gave me a death glare.

I tried not to close my eyes in exasperation. This was going to be harder than I thought.

“Not intentional. That sort of just… happened.” How the hell was I supposed to explain to her that I had followed her to the pits and gotten roped into the fight. I hadn’t even known she was going to be the woman I “won.”

Kendra’s eyes burned as she glared at me. I didn’t blame her; it wasn’t as though she had a whole lot of reason to believe me. But it did make my life a lot harder if she refused to help.

Except it wasn’t just that—I wanted her to believe me. There was just something about her. I couldn’t explain it beyond that. All I knew was that I wanted her trust. Her trusting me seemed like the most important thing in that moment.

Her lips pursed as she looked me up and down with unadulterated skepticism. “For all I know, this is some sort of trick to get me in trouble,” she said.

I let out a growl as I stalked closer to her. She stood her ground, her eyes remaining locked on me.

“Listen,” I hissed, “I don’t care what you think. I’ve still got a job to do. The less you help me, the longer the assholes in charge of this place are going to get away with everything they’re doing, and more women like you are going to get caught in the crossfire. I want to take these assholes down.”

She stayed silent, regarding me with interest, her head tilted as she mutely stared up at me, that defiance still plain on her face and distractingly attractive. If she hadn’t been a slave, I would have had an overwhelming urge to pull her against me and see what her lips tasted like.

I rounded on my heels and marched away, willing those thoughts to go away.

“Cain.”

I blinked, turning to look at her. “What?”

“The ringleader. His name is Cain.”

“What do you know about him?”

Her jaw worked, and she ran her fingers through her hair as she stared off into the distance. Something that wasn’t quite fear radiated off her as she bit her lip and stared out the small window at the street beyond.

“He’s ruthless. Strong enough that he set up all of this. Besides that, not much. He doesn’t interact with the slaves much. I’ve only met him once.”

“When did they bring you here?” I asked.

“No.”

“Then when?”

She glared, but didn’t answer.

Letting out a deep, exasperated sigh, I crouched so I was at eye level with her. She stared at me distrustfully, but kept my gaze. Despite everything, I had to admire her tenacity and defiance. I wanted to reach out and touch her, but I managed to stop myself.

“I can’t do anything about the collar or the bracelet,” I said. “Not here, anyway. But I know a couple of witches near my town who will be able to help, I’m sure.”

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