Page 7 of Kept to Kill
She gasped in shock, looking down at her tattered dress, standing in front of him in just her chemise. Her eyes darted to his. They looked confused, as if she had no idea what she was supposed to say, how she was meant to act. No one had ever done anything like this to her, he realized in amusement. Whether that was because she’d enjoyed a certain power as Vineri’s possession or because she actually had the touch of death remained to be seen.
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
‘This is just the beginning,’ he murmured. ‘I can break you a thousand ways, girl, without touching you at all.’
Her terrified eyes closed and she let out a small sigh. ‘But if I was valuable to you? If I proved it? Would that change things? Would I be treated better?’
‘Perhaps.’
Her hazel eyes opened once more, staring into his for a long time. He heard the men bringing in the bed he’d ordered and he gestured to a corner at the back, not taking his eyes from hers.
‘When I wake up, I will show you that what I say is true,’ she said quietly, her voice breaking on the final words.
He steeled himself for her tears, but none fell. Instead she turned away from him and went to the bed. The two men who’d brought it were still here, gaping at the woman, he saw, annoyed that they were witnessing her in this state of undress. One quelling look was all it took for them to disappear from the tent as quickly as they could.
‘I assume this is for me,’ she said hesitantly.
He nodded once.
‘Do I have your leave to move some things around?’
His brow furrowed. He wasn’t sure if he should let her have any liberties, but curiosity won out and he nodded once more.
He went back to his desk, confident that, for the moment at least, the girl was appropriately subdued by fear. Tomorrow he’d have to do something else. She wasn’t the type to roll over and take everything he meted out. Whatever she’d been to Vineri, he hadn’t broken her. By all accounts, it seemed he’d treated her well. That in itself was at odds with everything he’d ever heard about the cunt.
He got to work tackling the piles of documents on the desk. He’d realized over the past days that Greygor hadn’t sat at the gargantuan thing to make an impression; he just needed that much space for the sheer number of parchments that were piled on it daily. Every time he made a dent, he came back to higher mounds within half a day.
The woman cleared her throat daintily and he scowled at the interruption. Was the fear already dissipating? Did he already need to punish her further?
What?’ he ground out, not bothering to look up.
‘Is there water?’
‘There’s wine in the jug on the table,’ he said absently.
‘I need water.’
He finally looked up, ready to shout, to send her scurrying back to her bed, but he didn’t.
She looked ill. Her skin was sallow and glistened with sweat, her eyes wide and fevered.
‘Gods, you’re not dying, are you, girl?’ he asked callously and was surprised when she gave him a small smile.
‘No, you may still have that to look forward to when this is done, but I need water.’
‘I’ll have some brought,’ he found himself promising and frowned. Was he catering to her fucking whims now too? He opened his mouth to tell her that on second thoughts, the finest fucking wine in the region would have to do, but she was already turning away and making her way slowly and stiffly back to the bed.
‘Please put the water close,’ she asked quietly. ‘When I wake, I’ll prove my worth.’
He didn’t answer.
‘Commander?’ she murmured faintly.
‘Yes?’ he asked, making himself sound impatient because in truth he didn’t know what he was.
‘I told them, you know. The ones I could. I warned them before I killed them.’
She sounded close to tears, but he didn’t look up again.
