Page 43 of What Fury Brings
He went quiet. Even if he escaped and made it home, Blanchette’s was gone forever. His brothers would murder him for this. He would murder her for this—if her other crimes against him hadn’t been enough cause for it, this one surely was.
She stepped close, and he had to force himself to remain still under the threat of her proximity. “Remember your fear when you thought I might give you that toxin and take you against your will?”
He blinked.
“Imagine allowing others to touch you being the only way to scrape out a living. You men in Brutus are pigs, denying women their own land. Their own money most of the time. Women who have no men to look after them must sell their bodies to them instead. Is that the way you would have it?”
“They like being whores!” he protested.
“They’re paid to act like they like it. Would you have such a fun time sticking your cock inside them if they looked miserable the whole time?”
“You act all high and mighty, when your men are forced into that life here. It is the same.”
She said, so quietly he almost missed it, “Perhaps it shouldn’t be.” But then she said, in her usual tone, “We didn’t choose this. Your sex did. My society is a result of the crimes of men.”
“What does that mean?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I tried to give you history lessons on the road. You refused to listen. Now enough talk.”
Sanos leaped forward when he felt her hands on his ass.
“I suppose next you’ll need to sluice up my cock?” he asked bitterly.
“Only if you think your competitor will try to grab you by it?”
“What the hell kind of wrestling is this?”
“The kind meant for female enjoyment. Now, get out there and don’t get yourself hurt.”
She slapped his ass before he could walk toward the center stage, and the crowd went wild again. Sanos wanted to turn and glare at her, but he realized a moment later that she was putting on a show. They needed to appear to be fucking for her sake. He needed to be housebroken to secure her throne. So he could eventually be allowed to go home.
And apparently the first real course of action he was to take toward that goal was to wrestle another man almost twice his size, while naked.
There were stones laid into the shape of a circle at the bottom of the amphitheater. Soft mats spread over the center. At least if he fell, he wouldn’t break something. No, any breaking would come from the large man opposite him.
“Are you ready, Athon?” the eunuch overseer asked. Sanos recognized him from the palace.
“Yeah,” the man barked in return.
“Prince Andrastus, are you ready?”
Up close, Sanos registered that Athon was a foot taller, a truly impressive feat considering he himself was over six feet. His competitor’s muscles were godly, almost unsightly with the way they bulged off his skin. He was covered in scars, earned from sword nicks and battle wounds.
Still, he said, “I’m ready,” to the overseer.
“No biting or going for the groin,” the eunuch announced. “Anything else is fair game.” He held both hands high in the air before dropping them.
Athon lunged.
10
Olerra forced herself not to wince as Athon launched himself toward Andrastus. The prince managed to sidestep the swinging arms directed toward his stomach. He pivoted on one foot and drove a fist into the larger man’s exposed back.
The crowd shouted, and Olerra relaxed her posture. She, Ydra, and her cousin were seated in cushioned chairs beneath a canopy just out of range of the circling fighters.
“Very nice,” Ydra said.
“Don’t get too excited,” Glenaerys said from her other side. “My man’s just getting warmed up.”
