Page 12 of Commander's Slave
Draken’s gift might have been well intentioned, but it certainly wasn’t welcome.
He remained near the door, studying his acquisition. That hair. To his utter shock, his fingers tingled with the desire to run his hands through her auburn locks. But as much as he liked her hair, her eyes were her best feature by far. Large and brilliantly blue, they seemed to sparkle even in the dimly lit room. She wore a long, plain ivory dress that hugged her form perfectly, accentuating her ample hips and full bosom.
Guilt crept through him. He’d lost control downstairs and frightened the little female. Perhaps she hadn’t deserved to be sold as a slave.
Despite his earlier defense of it, deep down he knew the Kall justice system wasn’t without its flaws. The fact that slaves were sold anonymously on the auction block only proved this—he just hadn’t wished to admit this fact to Draken in the heat of the moment, for he very desperately wished to cling to his hatred of humans.
Yet the initial hatred he’d felt in this female’s presence faded in small measures as he continued to stare at her. His heart rate slowed and his reason returned.
Having never seen a human woman before, he hadn’t realized they were so little.
Though he didn’t like admitting it, Draken was correct—this woman did appear tiny and fragile. Innocent, even. If he hadn’t known she was a slave, he wouldn’t have guessed her to be a criminal—or an alleged criminal.
Why did he have the sudden urge to calm her fears?
He didn’t like that she was shaking so hard. But shouldn’t he wish to instill terror in her? Shouldn’t he wish to beat her as savagely as his father used to beat his slaves?
Every slave must be broken in.
Every slave must fear their master.
His father’s words returned to him but left him with an uneasy feeling.
Not for the first time in his life, he questioned his father’s wisdom.
“Come here.” He pointed to his feet.
She paled and stepped backward, tendrils of hair flipping about her face as she shook her head.
Edek softened his stance, that strange desire to calm her fears still surging within him. He tried to tell himself he wasn’t dragging her by her hair and demanding she answer his questions because a kinder method of extracting the answers he required would be easier. Of course, this felt like a lie.
She hugged herself and dropped her gaze to the floor. When he noticed her staring at her feet, her bottom lip trembled, but she was quick to bite it and blink rapidly, preventing the flow of tears.
Fluxx. Why had Draken cursed him with such a gift? He didn’t wish to feel any compassion for a human. Yet he couldn’t deny that a certain tenderness for this small, nameless female had seeded in his chest. He found himself wondering about more than her name and her crimes. He also wished to know her story. Where she used to live—Earth most likely, but possibly not—and what circumstances had led to her standing before him today.
As he followed the path of her gaze, down to her feet, his eyes widened in surprise. She was missing a toe on her right foot. It appeared well-healed, but a slight redness lingered at the stump, making him believe the loss of her toe was a recent occurrence.
“What happened to your foot?” he asked. Had she lost her toe in an accident? Or had his people cut it off as punishment before her sentencing? Such incidents weren’t unheard of, especially if she’d resisted capture or if she’d proven troublesome while in prison.
He waited, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she tightened her arms around her center, as if she were trying to control her shaking.
“Are you cold?” he asked. When she didn’t answer, he traipsed to the hearth and started a fire. The eternal wood sprung into flames, instantly heating the room further. Though he thought enough heat was coming through the vents in the floor, perhaps this small female required more warmth than a typical Kall.
He regarded her with growing worry. Was she sick? Wounded? No, he decided, if she were, Draken would’ve called for a healer. She was simply scared. Of him. Not that he could blame her.
How many times, in his imagination, had he killed a human? Always human males, however, never the females. In truth, he had never given human females any thought.
But now, as he stared at this particular human, this small female with silken auburn hair, he couldn’t fathom visiting such violence upon her. Maybe a bit of gentle punishment, but never anything more. Certainly not murder, and certainly not in the same violent manner his father used to welcome slaves into their household.
“Obey me and you won’t have reason to fear me, little human,” he said, using a gentler tone than he’d thought himself capable. “Now come to me.” He reached out a hand in encouragement. “And you may look at me. I do not mind if you look into my eyes. In fact, I prefer it.” To his astonishment, he realized hewantedher to look into his eyes, wanted to glimpse the depths of her shimmering blue gaze. He wanted to seeher.
She lifted her head and met his stare, in a movement both slow and cautious.
Something akin to hope shimmered in her eyes as she took a tentative step in his direction. She paused for a moment and braced herself, as if expecting him to lash out at her. Not that he could blame her. She was his slave, completely at his mercy. This couldn’t be changed and no doubt she knew it. Finally, she drew in a deep breath and finished approaching him, peering up from under thick, dark eyelashes.
Holy Fires, she was beautiful. The instant this thought entered his mind, he felt immense guilt. Shame, even. How could he find a human,any human, pleasing to look at?
“Go on.” He waved his hand, urging her to take it, needing to touch her again but not wishing to force himself upon her.Fluxx, the control it was taking him not to reach out and grab her and draw her close wreaked havoc on his senses.
