Page 88 of The Delta's Rogue
“What are we celebrating?” I humor her even though I want nothing less.
“You’re being auctioned!”
She crosses to me and wraps me in a hug. Before I can think about what I’m doing, I’m returning her embrace, too shocked to do anything else. With my chin on Amara’s shoulder, I catch Brenna’s eye.
She fidgets with a garment on the rack, pretending to check the lace and the beading along the hem, but I spot the nervous trembling of her hands. There’s a shimmer of excitement in her eyes as well, and she gives me a reassuring smile and a nod before tearing her eyes away from mine.
“Isn’t that the best news?” Amara rests her hands on my shoulders, bending to my level. “I’m so proud of you. I’m sad to see you go, but I know you will serve your Dom well, whomever they may be.”
She leans forward and kisses my forehead. I have the urge to gag, or to shove her away, wrap my hands around her neck, and squeeze until she can no longer breathe. But I curl my fists into the fabric of my robe and swallow back the rising bile.
She spins and crosses to Brenna, wrapping her in a hug as well. “You’ve done splendidly too, darling Brenna. He will be pleased.”
Brenna pales, but she forces a smile as Amara gazes at her with satisfaction.
“Help our sweet Anaís find something to wear for the auction.” Her attention switches back to me as she instructs Brenna.
Amara’s eyes linger on my cleavage. My fingers twitch, itching to grab the hem of the robe crossing over my chest and cover myself with it.
“Preferably an outfit that shows off those gorgeous breasts of hers. Our buyers will be frothing at the mouth when they see them.”
“Yes, Mistress Amara,” Brenna says.
I blink away the tears in my eyes and fight my instincts to launch myself at Amara and claw her eyes out.
Soon. I’ll get my chance soon. Once I’m free, once I have access to my resources, I’ll hunt her down and fulfill every waking dream I’ve had about torturing her and killing her.
For now, I must continue to play her game and convince her I’m everything she wants me to be.
Brenna wraps her hand around the vial of my blood around her neck—I’ve lost track of how many times they’ve taken blood from me at this point—and I’m frozen in place as Amara leaves the room. The door clicks shut, and the bolt spins into the frame.
I open my mouth, but Brenna angles her head, brows raised in a silent warning.
“What do you think of this one, Anaís?”
I stroll to join her, heart thundering in my chest and hope blossoming within me. My eyes flick to the ceiling and then back to Brenna, who gives me a subtle nod.
Her illusion is in place.
“Are they really auctioning me?” I grab her arm and squeeze it tightly.
“On May fourteenth, yes.”
The hope blooming into thousands of tiny white and yellow flowers disappears in an instant, blown away by a gust of wind that sends stormy clouds in front of the sun.
“May fourteenth?” I repeat. “But Nuncio caught me on April thirtieth, and I’ve been here for at least two months. May fourteenth wasweeksago.”
Brenna removes a few garments from the rack. She slides my hand into hers and leads me to the pedestal, guiding me to stand on its smooth, raised surface. “Time moves differently here.”
“What?”
“What feels like weeks to you is only days to the outside world.”
Her delicate, deft fingers undo the buttons on my robe, and the fabric falls to the floor, pooling at my feet. It’s dark and rippling and thick. It’s a mirror of the blood Brenna keeps in the vial around her neck. A foreshadowing of the blood I will spill when I’m free and can exact my revenge.
“¿Días?” My voice cracks against my will.
“It’s only been a few days for your friends and family.” Brenna slips one of the dresses over my head.
