Page 135 of The Princesses of Ruin
Hot tears spill down my cheeks as I accept what I must do. “Please, I’ll be good for you, but the knife scares me. I’m a nomaj—”
“I know what you are,” he says.
I accept that there’s one way out of this and stop my tears.
“Please.”
I lick my lips and his gaze darts to them, then back to my eyes.
“You’ll be good?”
I don’t know how to be sultry, but I try. “I’ll be so good for you. I want you to take me away. Make me your wife.”
“Your mother’s a right cunt,” he says. “But I’m sure you know that. I deserve to take you home for how little she’s payin’ me.”
He moves the blade from my neck and grabs the back of my head with it still in his grasp. I can’t get that knife from him, but it’s away from my neck. It’s two seconds or more from lethal placement. I pray to Zephrom that’s enough time.
Don’t pray to that bitch.
I know what’s in a man’s pants. I know that when they touch themselves, they feel pleasure, and I’ve seen men in the garrison doing so in the late nights of patrol when they think no one is watching. I know what he intends to do with me here on my knees.
I won’t let him. And I won’t let him have my sisters either. He might kill me, but before then I’ll take from him so dearly he can never hurt anyone again.
“You deserve more,” I say, planting my hands on his thighs and rubbing up to his groin.
He groans when I touch him. I battle down my revulsion, forcing my face to stay soft,welcoming…tamed.
“You ever suck cock before, girl?” he asks, his voice husky, distracted.
It’s working.
“Never,” I say, shaking my head slowly. “But I’ve seen one. I know…”
I keep my hands on his legs, and my eyes on his, but my attention is on the second blade strapped to his thigh. How fast can I pull it? Is there a strap locking the hilt?
“What do you know?” he asks with a greasy grin.
My gut turns with nerves. Nol’Ther whispers along my skin like an icy ghost, ready to accept me. I’m ready to go if it means I’ll take this fucker with me.
“I’ve seen maids in dark corners. I know what to do,” I say, wetting my lips again.
His grip tightens on my hair, grabbing more of it than he is the blade. He’ll fumble it when the time comes.
Yes, he will.
He hooks a thumb in the waist of his pants and pushes them down to his thighs. “Make sure you cover those teeth, girl.”
I open my mouth and stick out my tongue. It makes me want to vomit, but it makes him smile.
He keeps his hand tucked in his pants, holding them down. I move in closer as my hands slip up his thighs. I touch the hilt—
Pull it.
Slice.
Blood sprays across my face.
He screams, throwing me away by my hair.
