Page 7 of The Death King

“You could stay in here out of the sun.” He crossed his muscular arms over his chest as he watched me. “Rest. Take a bath. You’re sleeping with the most powerful man in this camp. It would be smart to take advantage of it.”

When I reached the doorway, I gave him a cold stare. “I’d rather die in the sun than live in your shadow.” I stepped into the long hallway and headed toward the exit, hearing his heavy footfalls behind me a moment later, slowly getting closer to me because a single step of his was at least two of mine.

Then he was right behind me, stalking me like prey, his quiet anger suffocating me like a pillow.

Once we walked out of the double doors, he moved to my side and escorted me down the steps and through the iron gate. We stepped onto the bare sand, the stones that acted as a pathway hidden underneath the sand that had blown in the wind. It was morning so the sunlight was gentle, but in just a few hours, it would be unbearable.

General Titan walked me to the location of the dig. Guards were on metal risers, overseeing the pits where the slaves dug into the sand.

I took a step toward the ladder so I could get to work.

The general snatched me by the arm and jerked me back to him, his lips against my ear. “You’ll pay for that comment later.”

I tried to twist out of his grasp, but he just yanked me into his chest. “Have a good day, sweetheart.” Then he shoved me, shoved me so hard that my foot got caught in the sand, and I fell to the ground. “Now, get to work.” He kicked me hard in the side, making me flip onto my back with my face to the side. He gave another kick, spraying me with a cloud of sand that got into my mouth and eyes. The last thing I saw was his merciless grin before he walked off.

I lay there for a second, feeling the cloud of despair cover the sun and leave a shadow of darkness on my face. Some days were easier than others, but most of them were hard as hell. Today was one of those days when I wondered why I continued on. All I had to do was stop drinking water throughout the day. It was so hot and dry that my body would fail me by evening. I worked for the Empire by day, and then I worked for the general by night.

What was the fucking point?

But as always, I got back to my feet and carried on.

I climbed the ladder into the pit and went to work with the others. Sand seemed soft and harmless, but it was as dangerous as water. You could drown in the sand—and I’d watched a lot of people die that way. If a powerful gust of wind came over the horizon, it could push an entire mound on top of the diggers, and the more you tried to climb out of the slippery grains, the more you slipped under. It turned into a sinkhole.

I stepped into the pit and found Amelia.

She stuck her shovel into the sand. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” I grabbed a shovel and did the same.

“He kicked you pretty hard.”

“I’ve already forgotten about it.” I had a stitch in my side now, like the muscle was tight from the trauma, and whenever I turned too far, it gave a spasm. When my clothes came off that night, I would see a disgusting bruise left on the skin.

Amelia’s stare lingered on my face for a moment before she got back to work. “Why do you come down here?”

My shovel got a pile of sand before I carried it to the lift. Once it was full enough, the guards would roll it back to the surface to be transported a distance away. Buckets of water were pumped from the well and tossed into the pit, making the sand harder, therefore easier to manage and less likely to collapse. But it was wasteful because the sand dried so quickly in the heat, and we were left with just drops for ourselves. Any slaves who were caught drinking that water were put to death.

Water was more precious than gold out here.

I dug my shovel into the ground and grabbed another pile of sand before I tossed it onto the lift.

“Calista?”

I tried to ignore her question, but she wouldn’t let me off so easily. “I prefer it down here.”

“You would rather break your back in the heat than sit in the shade?” She continued to work, keeping her head down to make it less obvious we were talking.

“I’d rather not give him the satisfaction.”

“I don’t want to sound insensitive, but I wish the general preferred me. I’d fuck him to get out of this any day.”

It was insensitive—and naïve. “I’d say I wished the general preferred you too, but I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

Food and water were lowered into the pit at midday. It seemed barbaric to give us a break when there was no respite from the sun. With the blazing ball of heat directly above us, no shade was cast by the walls. Everyone bent their backs to bow their heads, their thin clothing the only escape from the scorching rays of the sun.

Amelia and I didn’t shy away from it. We leaned against one of the walls, embracing the sun and giving our backs a chance to rest.

Our break was spent in silence, both of us too tired to say anything. This time of day was our only chance to talk because I didn’t join the others in the barracks, but we were too tired for jokes or conversation. I missed staying with the others, preferring that moth-eaten cot to the sprawling king-size bed with that asshole in it.

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