Sold to Serve by Kyra Alessy

Chapter 6

Kora sat up and groaned, finding herself in the blankets by the hearth. She couldn’t remember getting under them last night. She groaned, her shoulders and back sore from the heavy lifting of the day before. She rose and stretched, trying to ease the stiffness. Then she fed the fire, glad that there were still enough glowing embers, as she still couldn’t make the flint spark most of the time, however much she practised. There was a bowl on the side which she took, and she began to eat – porridge as usual. It wasn’t until she noticed the rust-coloured spots on her bandages that events of the previous day came rushing back. She gasped, dropping the bowl, which clattered loudly to the floor. Ren. Kade. The blood all over her. She felt her face, expecting it to be as dirty as the rest of her. But it was clean.

Kade had killed Ren. Bile rose in her stomach and she ran for the door, casting the entire contents of her stomach up in the long grass beside the steps. She sat down hard and put her face in her hands, belatedly realising that the chains that had shackled her were gone. Who had taken them off? Why?

‘Get on with your work, slave.’

She started, finding Lucian standing over her. He was so quiet, she hadn’t heard his approach.

‘You know what happens if you don’t do as you’re told,’ he sneered as if nothing would give him greater pleasure than giving her to his men.

She frowned. His words were very slightly slurred, she noticed. He couldn’t be in his cups at this time in the morning, could he? Why do you care? She didn’t, of course, but it was curious.

Kora didn’t know if she should tell him about what had happened yesterday. What if it got Kade into trouble somehow? He had murdered a man for her, after all. So she stood up and walked over to the stone piles without a word, her legs wobbly. She continued with her task, ignoring him. After a while, she turned and found he was gone. But in his place stood Kade, silently watching her.

She swallowed hard and tried to ignore him, but she couldn’t help giving him sideways glances when his eyes were elsewhere. Something about him – everything about him – made her want to look twice.

It was the same with the other two as well, she realised suddenly with a sinking feeling. That first time she’d seen Mace in the market with his short blond hair and penetrating eyes, she hadn’t been able to look away, nor from Lucian in the yard the first afternoon she’d been brought here. He was the biggest arse out of all of them, of course, but he was just as intriguing somehow.

She picked up a stone and hefted it into the pile she’d designated ‘medium stones’. What was wrong with her? The three of them could hurt and punish and even kill her if they wanted. No one would stop them. The best-case scenario was that one of them would take her to his bed, divest her of her maidenhead and just as quickly cast her out of it. Surely she wasn’t so foolish as to still harbour childish dreams of love after all that had happened. Surely not.

She lifted another stone, lost in thought, but it was heavier than expected and slipped from her fingers. Before she could jump back to save her still-bare toes, she found herself hauled off the ground by a large arm wrapped around her middle, her back pressed into Kade’s chest. He leant his head forward to the juncture of her neck and shoulder and breathed in deeply, groaning almost imperceptibly. She felt his breath on her neck and found it wasn’t abhorrent. Involuntarily, she shivered.

He set her down haltingly, not looking at her now. Instead he picked up the large stone that had almost crushed her foot and moved it. Then he went to the pile and got another of the bigger ones she couldn’t manage and then another and another.

They worked side by side in silence, Kade helping her for the rest of the afternoon. When the dinner bell sounded, he gently plucked the rock she held from her hands.

‘That’s enough for today.’

Kora glanced worriedly at the side door of the keep. It was still very early. She’d been working long into the night before. ‘I don’t think I’m allowed to stop before night unless someone tells me I can.’

‘I have. Come.’

He disappeared inside. She stared after him for a moment in surprise before she followed. She supposed she should abide by his orders as much as those of the other two.

She found him already eating at the small table in the kitchen. He gestured for her to sit and pushed a bowl of stew in front of her. He watched her as she ate, but he still didn’t say anything.

Able to bear his scrutiny no longer, she put down her spoon. ‘What is it you want of me?’ she asked softly.

He looked momentarily surprised, then thoughtful. ‘I don’t know,’ he said.

She looked down at her lap, blushing stupidly. ‘Is it … is it what you wanted before? In the smithy?’

‘I don’t know,’ he finally answered again, his rough voice resonating through the quiet room.

She looked back up at him, finding his eyes still fixed on her. She was puzzled by his behaviour. ‘You’re one of them. Why did you help me today?’

He let out a long breath as if deciding whether or not to answer her. ‘That work is too much for you. I’ll finish it tomorrow.’

She bristled at his highhandedness. She’d spent her life being cosseted; being told everything she couldn’t do. She would do every difficult thing that was demanded of her, if only to prove to herself that she could – and to stay out of the men’s barracks.

‘No. I can do it,’ she insisted. ‘It’s meant to be difficult. It’s a punishment.’

‘For what?’

‘For running off, of course.’

He gave a genuine laugh. ‘Those two fools were the ones who let you get away.’ His voice became more gravelly. ‘You’ll never escape me.’

She felt a flutter in her stomach at his tone. He was every inch a hunter. Some part of her wanted to jump up from the table and run as fast as she could, far from him but only because she knew he’d chase her. What was she thinking of? She tried to get her breathing under control before he noticed, picking up her spoon nonchalantly even as her heart thudded in her chest.

‘Do you fear me?’ he asked, looking amused.

Yes.Instead she looked him in the eye. ‘Should I?’

‘I don’t know.’

She grinned in spite of herself. ‘You don’t know much, do you?’

He chuckled but didn’t say any more.

‘Did you take off the chains?’ she blurted suddenly.

‘I did.’

‘Thank you.’ She glanced up at him again, taking in his appearance. ‘I – ’ She shut her mouth, knowing she shouldn’t ask. It wasn’t anything to do with her.

‘Ask your question, girl,’ he said, his tone suddenly hostile.

‘I just wondered about the rings in your ears and nose. I’ve never seen anyone with them before.’

He snorted. ‘Do you not wish to know about my melted flesh?’

‘Not really.’ Kora shrugged. ‘My uncle has a similar scar.’

He frowned.

‘Of course, if you’d like to tell me the story of how you came by it, I’d be fascinated to hear it,’ she added hurriedly, afraid she’d insulted him.

He gave her a peculiar look. ‘Where I come from, the rings are given in ceremony once a boy reaches manhood,’ he said, answering her original question. ‘The burn is from an accident when I was still learning metalwork in my home realm long ago.’

Her eyes widened in interest. ‘Where do you come from?’

‘A dark realm, of course. High in the north mountains there is – was – an opening between my world and yours. At one time there were quite a few of my kind here.’

Her breath hitched. ‘You’re from a .. a dark realm? But I thought the only humans on the other sides of the breaches were slaves. Were you a slave?’

He let out a slow breath. ‘No. I may look like a man, but trust me when I say that I’m not. Not entirely anyway. I am Dark Realm.’

‘What does that mean?’ she asked, in awe.

‘That I am different.’ He looked away from her. ‘Good hearing, the nose of a hound and I’m stronger than some men to put it simply.’

‘I’ve never met anyone from another realm before,’ she breathed. ‘But your portal closed. I’m sorry. Do you miss your world?’

‘It is – was a harsh place,’ he said simply.

She raised a brow at his clear evasion. ‘You don’t miss anything? I never liked my home, but it had its good points. My uncle when he visited. My horse, Brisa. My bed.’ With a glance at the frayed blankets of her ‘bed’ by the hearth, she sighed wistfully and then chuckled, taking a gulp of water from the cup in front of her.

‘Slaves must have been treated well indeed where you come from.’

Had she just told him about her horse? She choked on the water and began to cough. ‘Yes,’ she rasped as she tried to cover the truth. ‘I was treated very well. Brisa was my mistress’s, but I was allowed to exercise her, and my bed was more of a pallet really, but it was comfortable.’

He nodded and she almost sighed in relief. He believed her babbling excuses, but she had to be more careful! The leap from house slave to runaway noble woman was a long one, it was true, but if someone was looking for her still, it would only take a word in the ear of the Brothers for them to make connections to her past if they were already suspicious.

Davas returned at that moment, so she couldn’t put herself in any more peril – thank the gods – and they finished their meal in silence. Kade gave her a final, lingering look before quitting the kitchen.

‘You could use a wash,’ Davas said. ‘Come. There’s somewhere to bathe if you’re quick.’

She practically jumped up as soon as he mentioned a place to wash. He was being polite. She was covered in grime and blood and sweat, and she knew she stank like a pig. The closest she’d come to a bath since being stolen from the Temple was when Mace had pushed her into the river, and that was days and days ago.

She followed Davas through the halls and down into the bowels of the keep, where the burning torches lining the stone walls were the only light to see by. Finally they arrived at a door. Davas swung it open slowly and Kora gasped.

It was a large cavern in the rock of the hill; a cave full of natural light from what was once an entrance but was now a window, a plate of clear crystal that opened onto the hillside. Cut into the centre of the cavern was a large round pool. Steam rose from the water.

‘It’s hot‽’ she exclaimed.

Davas nodded, smiling at her glee. ‘The water is brought in from a spring through the smithy, where it’s heated by the fire.’

She dipped her toe in and let out a breath. ‘That’s … amazing!’

He chuckled. ‘It was the first thing the Brothers had built when they bought the keep.’

‘How long have they been here?’ Kora heard herself asking.

‘Nigh on two summers.’ Davas turned back to the door. ‘Only the Brothers use this place – and me when my rheumatism flares up. No one should be down here again tonight, but don’t stay too long, eh?’

She smiled at him in gratitude. ‘Thank you, Davas. Truly.’

He left, closing the door with a click behind him, and Kora didn’t waste any time. She divested herself of the dirty bandages over her mostly healed hands, jerked her sack dress over her head and threw it onto the floor in a heap. She wished she could wash that as well, but she didn’t want to go to bed in soaking swathes of cloth, so she’d have to content herself with washing her body only.

She waded into the water, finding steps chiselled into the stone. It was so deliciously hot. Even though it made her wounds sting, she couldn’t help but moan as she sank into it, the sound echoing through the cave.

She found soap – soap! – in a small indentation next to the pool and lathered her hair and skin, scrubbing herself until she felt clean. The water whirled around her, constantly moving. It was wonderful. Even her family’s estate had nothing like this. Davas had told her not to linger, but surely a few moments more wouldn’t hurt. She sat on the steps and leant back, resting her head against the edge, and closed her eyes with a groan of pleasure as all the muscles that had been tense for days finally relaxed. She felt boneless and, for the first time since she’d fled her father’s home, at ease.

* * *

Lucian turned down the hall from the keep’s dungeons-cum-storage-cellars. The supplies were late this month and he’d been hard pressed to find any wine at all down there. Luckily, in one disused corner was a small barrel, which he now carried. He would be spending his night as he liked, getting drunk in the library.

The thought of it made him hurry in anticipation, but as he passed the bathing room, he thought he heard something. He slowed. No one should be in there now. If one of their men was down here without permission, he’d flog the bastard himself. Davas was allowed because he was older than the others and had served them well, but other than the old cook, only Lucian and his Brothers were permitted.

Frowning, he silently pushed the door open and was met with a sight that had his traitorous cock hard in a flash. The slave lounged in the pool. Their pool! Her eyes were closed; her long dark hair was plastered to her head. The way her head lolled to one side was as if she slumbered, but he knew she didn’t. Her elbows rested on the first step, just under the water, and her hands played with the surface, letting it tickle the tips of her fingers. It was as if he were spying on some oblivious little water sprite in the forest.

He swallowed hard, not able to tear his gaze from her. The way she reclined meant her breasts were fully in his line of sight. He remembered them well, of course, from before Davas had found her that ugly fucking dress she wore – though he’d tried to forget. But there they were, luscious and pert and round, her nipples hard from being out in the air. The bitch was doing this on purpose.

‘What the fuck are you doing down here?’ he growled suddenly, making his tone as menacing as he was able.

She gave an affected cry and her limbs flailed as if she hadn’t known he was there watching; as if she hadn’t likely been lying in wait for one of them. His lip curled in disgust. She’d be wonderful on the stage. Wasn’t it bad enough that Kade fawned over her like a pup, helping her with chores, removing her chains, killing Ren? Perhaps he would have killed Ren too if he’d been there, Lucian conceded, but only because he’d never liked the bastard and because she was theirs to punish, not Ren’s.

Lucian had to stifle a groan as her luscious body slid under the water and out of his view and his rage deepened.

‘Davas said …’ she began quietly.

‘Davas is not a master here!’ he snarled, stepping towards the pool. ‘Get out.’

She recoiled and her eyes widened, but she raised her chin in defiance. He saw her eyes flick to the barrel he held and then back to him. Assessing. She was trying to work out if he was drunk or sober, he realised, and could he see in her eyes … yes. She was trying to hide it, but he saw her judgement, her pity.

‘What the fuck are you looking at, slave?’ He was practically shaking with the force of his fury.

She flinched almost imperceptibly at his words, but she held his gaze and suddenly he felt like a boy again; the stupid little pickpocket who’d stolen from the wrong person and whose luck was up.

With one last glance at the wine barrel under his arm, she turned away to hide herself further. His free hand balled into a fist at his side. He’d wanted to punish her, but his anger was quickly being replaced by need. He needed to sink into the water with her and feast on those delectable tits. He needed to spread her legs wide and feel her tight channel squeezing him as he spilled himself inside her. He staggered back. He’d never felt such a pull towards a woman.

Then take her, his mind whispered and he revolted. He did NOT want her!

She still had her back to him, her hair fanning out around her in the water, obscuring what little he could see of her. He had to get out of here.

He turned and all but ran to the door, on his way noticing her discarded dress on the ground. Feeling more himself now he couldn’t see her, he scooped it up as he passed and smiled nastily to himself. That’d teach her.

He escaped into the corridor, balled the dress up and threw it into one of the dark, disused storerooms. He scowled at the barrel still under his arm, finding that he was no longer in the mood to drink himself into a stupor. He left it there in the hall, not even caring if anyone found his last barrel and drank it themselves.