Page 54 of Anorthic Anarchy

Some of her wet hair catches in my hand as she turns to face me again. “I guess I just didn’t realize what I was capable of. Butyoudid.”

As I drag a thumb over her nipple, it hardens, and I smile. “Yes. I did. There’s no other woman out there for me as perfect as you.” The muscles in her neck tighten as she swallows, but she holds her tongue. “It must be confusing to realize you aren’t the innocent creature you believed yourself to be. That you’re like me.”

Now her eyes flash to mine with something like shock. “I’m not like you.”

With a small chuckle and a shrug at her reaction, I smile and finish up the long process of getting every divot in our bodies clean. Despite her irritation, she helps me with my back and hair, me with her entire body without ravaging it. After that, I help dry her and fix her hair. Then I toss her over my shoulder and meander through my room.

A few staff stand with their hands on their hips like they don’t know what to do with the place, but I have no pointers to give them. Instead, I make straight for her room, then set her on the bed. “Sev got you clothing, as you requested, Queen.”

Whipping her head around, she sends me a glare. “Don’t call me that.”

With a tiny laugh, I pull out some jeans and little matching lace panties and bra. She swats them down when I toss them at her face. “That’s what you are. Queen of the North. You don’t like that?”

She dresses, then skirts past me to pull on a T-shirt from the open drawer. “No.”

As I find my clothing and she continues to dress, I think about all the women over the years introduced to me by Herodius and Clavius. The ones they were dying to have me mix with. All had stars in their eyes thinking about being the consort’s wife. Young ones. Older ones. Tested and ready to be bred.

When I slaughtered the last one they sent as she stepped foot on my porch, they ended the practice. It was either the dungeons with them, or death. I grew tired of torturing my guests, and a clean death was quicker. Especially before they entered the house. Less mess.

I bundle up some clothing and re-enter my wife’s bedroom, nodding toward her dresser. “Gather some clothes and let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“To the tower. It’s safer.” Cutting a path through my study, I also snatch two rifles and a shotgun. My wife carries our clothing and I, the weapons, as we wind up the stone stairs to our new abode.

“We’re staying up here now?”

“Yep. We’ll have a three-sixty view, and it would take the enemy much longer to find us. Plus, we can pick them off from the top of the stairs or the windows.”

She places our bundles on top of the window seat, then tosses her hands on her hips, giving the place another look. “But the kitchen is so far away.”

My lips jerk up into a smirk as I set the guns on either side of the bed. Gathering her hand in mine, I place my lips against her forehead. She doesn’t pull back, and the touch of her sends another zing of life straight to my soul. “Is my little girl hungry?”

The heat from her palm hits my chest as she tries to slap me away, even through the black T-shirt I wear, but there isn’t any effort behind it. “Don’t call me that.” Her tone says shedefinitelywants me to call her that very thing.

“Come on, my perfect angel. My little girl. My queen. Your food awaits.”

Tugging on her, I lead us across the gangway to another door. The iron keys are heavy in my pocket. After unlocking it, I reveal another office. This one has a mini fridge and a basket of snacks. Chips, candy, crackers…

“You’ve been holding out. This is where you keep the good stuff!” She rummages through the selection while I reach over her head and snatch a few for myself. “Hey! I was going for the Puffs.”

With a pop, the bag opens, and I toss one in the air. Catching it in my mouth, I chew it with a sly grin on my face. She screws her face in mock anger, but I hold one up for her. “Open.”

When she does, I toss it in, and she smiles. Just for that expression of triumph, I hand her the rest and grab some pretzels instead.

“I’ll take you on a date later. Would you like that? Our first date?” Some level of satisfaction makes my head hang onto the back of the sofa. A happy sigh floats past my lips. It’ll be my first, too.

Her jaw motions slowly as she crooks an eyebrow. “We can’t go anywhere. And I’ve never been on a date before.”

It warms my heart to hear it. Just another affirmation that we were made for each other. I gather her up in my arms, then lead her over to the sofa as we munch on our snacks. “I’ll pop your date cherry, then. Show you what it can be like.”

She’s silent for a long time until she finally speaks. “Did you enslave those women? Or rescue them?”

Finishing up the salty treat, I brush my hands together and sit as she leans against the far cushion. I pull one of her delicate feet into my lap. The skin is ice cold, and I wonder how long it will take Sev to find some slippers or socks for her. “They were already slaves. I tried to keep as many as I could. At the society parties, I’d pretend to want them for myself or bring them in through the catacombs in groups. The Crimson Angel tunnels through to here. But I always gave everyone a choice. Stay with the monster here. Or get used by the demons out there. Some decided to leave. Some chose to work at the brothel. And a few stayed with me.”

She chews carefully for a moment, considering something. I’m on the edge, wondering what will next come from her pert little mouth. “So you didn’t care if they were free, just so long as Clavius and Herodius didn’t have them.”

With a shrug, I sigh. “That was most important, yes. Disrupting the trade would cut into their profits. Maybe it wasn’t a great choice, but the slaves did have one.”

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