Page 54 of Given to the Fae
‘I’ll go with you,’ I whisper.
‘I know you will.’
He pulls me along and I walk out of the rooms with him. He lets me go as we cross the courtyard and looks back at me. ‘I was going to tell the inn that we wanted you bred by a few of their virile bulls.’
I swallow hard and stumble a little as my knees go weak.
‘But I decided not to.’
I sigh with relief.
‘That would be too easy.’
I curl in on myself as he walks out into the busy street. He takes care not to hurt me himself, but he plows through the crowds without a care. I’m bumped and pushed, tripped and slammed into countless times before we get to a tall and foreboding black door a few streets over. There’s a sign with letters hanging above it, but no picture, so I don’t know where we are.
But it won’t be anywhere good. My breathing is fast, and I attempt to control it and my thudding heart. It won’t do any good to show fear, in fact it’s been known to make things worse. I rub my various bruises from the walk absently as Warrior raps on the door. It looks as if he’s combed his hair and donned some clean black clothes, I realize belatedly, peering again at the building’s front. But I can discern nothing about what this place is.
As if it’s an afterthought, Warrior throws a long crimson cloak around his shoulders.
The door opens and we’re let inside by a well-dressed, and very thin goblin. The rings in his ears are black. He turns without a word and I’m pulled with Warrior into an elaborate foyer the likes of which I’ve never seen, not even at the opulent inn Locke brought us to yesterday. Everything’s black, but there are intricate patterns swirling around the walls and floors. I think they’re moving, but I can’t quite tell.
‘Ah, Tratril of Gild, I’ve been expecting you. I know you by your House’s distinctive blood red sigil, of course, even if I hadn’t received your message.’
Warrior bows his head at the demon with black and red scales who’s slowly approaching. His robes are grey and golden, and his long curved gleaming horns look as if they’ve been dipped in molten silver.
I blink.He was speaking to Warrior?
‘Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice.’
Warrior sounds different. Poised, and...wealthy. He’s clearly gained admittance here with lies ... and that cloak. But why? What is this place? Why has he brought me here?
‘This is the slave you messaged me about?’
I’m pulled forward without further preamble, and I don’t look up, not even when my chin is taken in a firm grasp and my head lifted so that my face can be seen.
‘And how many times have you tried properly?’ asks the demon.
‘Twelve, if you can believe it.’
‘I can,’ the demon chuckles. ‘You’d be surprised at the lengths some of them will go to not to be bred.’
I freeze at the words, my eyes darting up to Warrior’s. He sees me and gives me afondsmile. ‘I didn’t tell her what we came for,’ he explains to the demon. ‘Didn’t want to upset her. She can be very willful and temperamental.’
The demon nods in commiseration. ‘Bring her to the back room. I’ve got everything set up ready for her.’
I’m pulled along, my body shaking more with every step, my mind darting to scenario after scenario, trying to think of a way out of this.
‘Locke will be furious if you do this,’ I hiss, not sure if it’s the truth, but trying anyway.
But Warrior sniggers. ‘He told me to bring you. He wants to be able to sell you as a breeding mare to the pits.’
My shoulders sink and I will the tears out of my eyes. They won’t be able to do much, I tell myself. They’ll realize quickly what hurting me does to them.
We enter a room that makes my eyes widen. The walls are covered in whips of all sizes and varieties on one side, and, on the other, various… I squint at the many objects that adorn the white plaster. I don’t actually knowwhatthey are. The only things I recognize out of the odd assortment are the many phalluses. There are countless shapes and sizes. They’re made from wood, leather, stone, and many other materials I don’t recognize.
I swallow hard and stop in my tracks when I notice the block. It’s unlike any others I’ve seen. It’s carved in ebony, the patterns similar to the ones on the walls. Warrior attempts to pull me, but I don’t budge.
He chuckles ruefully. ‘You see? Such a stubborn female.’
