Page 7 of Bred By the Barge

“What do you see?” he asks.

I don’t understand why he’s asking, and the wet glide of his tongue over my ear scrambles my thoughts.

I meet Gem’s wide eyes between the bodies surrounding her. With clean hands and cloth masks covering their noses and mouths, the beta women hold my sister down and smear ointment over the bruises covering her bare torso. An older female inspects the gash on her head.

Understanding dawns. They’re helping my sister, not hurting her, but that’s not the revelation that comes out of my mouth.

“You sent the men away.”

“Only females will tend to your sister. They’ll treat her wounds, give her a proper shower, and put her in quarantine until I clear her for the general population.”

“What do you mean by quarantine?”

“She’ll have three meals a day, a bed, and running water all to herself.”

I open my mouth to ask why, but I choke on the cloud of sadness wafting off the women. When I try again, a different question pops free.

“And me?”

“You’re mine, Pearl. We’ll quarantine together.”

Liquid fire pools low in my belly. I test my bindings and hiss as pain radiates down my arms and through my shoulder.

Thick fingers wrap around my throat and his hard body presses against my back.

“Be still and let me take care of you, tiny treasure.”

My frazzled mind and exhausted body stand no chance against his seductive rumble. I melt as my pain drifts away.

Gem’s wordless keen holds so much misery my stomach clenches and ice forms around my heart. Tears glimmer in her eyes.

The Barge snarls and releases me, only to unsnap my shackles from the line and toss me over his shoulder. I grunt as my midsection collides with his rock-hard shoulder, but the heat of his sun kissed back against my aching nipples shocks me more than the impact. I brace my forearms on his back and lift to meet my sister’s eyes.

“I’m fine, Gem. We’ll be okay.”

She doesn’t believe me, but neither do I. I just need her to be safe. She’s suffered enough. I can handle anything as long as I know she’s okay.

Corrugated steel blocks my view. My lower back cramps, so I let my forearms slip off The Barge’s back and cringe at the tacky wetness of my blood as it smears between us.

As the massive alpha stalks through the rows of shipping containers, my adrenaline fades and weakness spears through me. I wedge my thumbs inside his waistband to prevent my head from bopping against the muscles of his back, but after a moment, I realize I cling to him as though he’s a lifeline. I’m afraid if I let go, he’ll float away and I’ll wake up stranded in the middle of the ocean with sharks circling my sister and me as I desperately cling to our broken barrel.

At least with him, we might live. I don’t know what kind of life we’ll have, but the few seconds I saw of his people told me more than I realized in the moment.

No one cowered. Everyone walked with their shoulders back, like they had a purpose. They had clear eyes, clean clothes, and healthy bodies.

Even the ruling alphas of the city skulked around in filthy clothing and reeked of alcohol or stumbled around in a daze of drugs.

Hope blooms to life in my chest, but I squash it as hard as I can.

Hope hurts too much. It leaves you too exposed. When my father had enough money to buy passage on the shipping boat, we had the first glimmer of hope in a long time. When I hid in the barrel with my sister, hope kept me patient. When the fishing boat exploded, I hoped to see my parents alive.

Maybe hope is just the beginning of my downfall.

I tell myself I can handle whatever this alpha demands of me, but fear and heartache fill my eyes with tears.

Too worn out to fight the tide of emotions, I tighten my grip on his waistband and tuck the side of my face against his lower back.

He quickens his pace.

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