Page 14 of Savagely Mated

“You’re at the academy, right?”

“Yeah.”

Einar nods. “You don’t remember me, because you were too young. But I was there when you first came. The director pretended you were someone’s brother’s kid, an orphan just staying for a while. The faculty covered for you. You played in the staff room.”

I have a weird feeling as he tells me this stuff, remembering a childhood that I don’t really remember anymore because nobody remembers that far back.

“I thought you’d have been sent to the palace at the usual age. But they’ve kept you,” he says. “What they’re doing is wrong.”

“What do you mean, what they’re doing to me? They looked after me. Trained me. They’re going to make me one of the King’s Guard one day.” I know the last part is a lie, but I say it anyway.

“You’re being kept for breeding.”

“Bullshit.”

“Why do you think you get to sneak out so much? Why do you think you’re indulged in ways others aren’t?”

“Because I’m good at everything, because I’ve been trained since I could walk and talk. Most of them are ten years behind me, at least. Also, the trainers have known me forever. I’m not just some recruit. I’m more like… family.”

“You don’t know what family is,” Einar says.

I scowl at him furiously. I hate it when people say things like that—and they’re always saying things like that. A lot of the other cadets have been curious about me over the years. They ask me about what happened to my parents, and I don’t really know.

Sometimes they talk about their families, and I feel jealous. I don’t know what it’s like to have a mom or a dad, or siblings that I live with. It sounds weird, to be honest. Sounds kind of stifling. I can’t imagine having two adults looking out for me all the time, telling me what to do, probably having some say in how I dress, maybe even buying me clothes. Gross. I bet my mom wouldhave, like, brushed my hair and things. Or read me bedtime stories. How stupid is that? I know how to read stories to myself.

Anyway, that’s what makes me kick Einar in the face for a second time. The man just keeps putting himself in foot range. At this point, it’s basically his fault.

“Restrain her before I do something I regret,” he snarls, holding his jaw. I got a good shot in that time. I’m impressed that he wasn’t knocked out. This man can take a thrashing.

“What are you going to do? Beat me up? Yeah. You’d better have me restrained by two other men. You could never take me on your own. I’d run you through with my sword and bite your fucking head off.”

“Let her calm down,” Rafe says. “We’re all wound up.”

“She’s feral,” the pretty boy replies. He doesn’t say it like it is a good thing.

I feel a deep sense of shame. These men have seen me at my worst. They saw me as an animal, and as a coward, but for some reason they’ve come for me and now they’re arguing with me instead of letting me go.

“They’re going to notice that I’m gone. They’re going to look for me.”

“They’re going to assume you’ve run away, and when they can’t find you, they’re going to think you’ve gotten yourself killed, either by annoying the wrong person, or being obliterated by a Nile drone. You’ll be missed, but they won’t know you’ve been abducted.”

“They’re still going to look for me.”

“They won’t find you. We won’t let them.”

I take a deep breath and try to calm myself, but I’m finding it practically impossible. I’m scared and I’m ashamed, and I’m all riled up in every single way. These three men in this tight space are emitting, I don’t know what you’d call it. Smells of some kind. Every time I breathe them in, I feel something in my body react.

I’m getting turned on.

It doesn’t make fucking sense. I’ve been kidnapped by strange men who wanted to kill me six or so hours ago because I was slightly rude to them on the street. Now they want me for… I don’t know. But when Einar said the word breeding, I felt my entire body light up in a way I know it shouldn’t.

“What do you want me for?”

“The one thing you’re made for,” Kirin says, flashing a sexy, but terrible grin over his shoulder. I’d like to know where the hell we are driving. We’ve been cutting through the city for minutes now, going from one side to what feels like the other.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Rebellion,” Einar says.

---