Page 67 of Stolen Faith

Brennon crouched beside them, holding out some food and the bottles of water. “Here. Breakfast. Or lunch. Who knows?”

Izabel sat all the way up, the dress falling onto her lap. She winced at her nakedness. Brennon offered her his shirt. “Here.”

She hesitated. “I think I want to put the dress back on.”

“Why?” Rowan sat up and started methodically eating.

“Because it’s…at least there’s a lot of fabric. A little protection.” Izabel didn’t want to be naked, and Brennon’s shirt, which was big enough to cover her, would be tight across her chest if she buttoned it closed.

She stood and wiggled into the dress. She turned her back to Brennon, who was also on his feet. “Zip me up?”

The sound of the zip was loud in the silence, and Izabel had to close her eyes and take slow breaths when the corseted top squeezed her ribs and chest.

Once more, Brennon held out the shirt, but she shook her head. “You keep it. I don’t want you half naked in front of them.”

“Better me than you,” Brennon said softly.

Izabel took the shirt and gently put it on Brennon. He looked down at her, worried.

“If they want to hurt me, your shirt won’t stop it.” She couldn’t bear to look at either of them as she spoke.

Brennon started to argue, but the sound of the lock thudding had them all whipping around.

Rowan was on his feet, his big body between them and the door. “Drink your water, fast.”

Izabel hated that her hands shook as she quickly obeyed, finishing the bottle and trying not to think about the fact that Rowan clearly thought this might be the last water they’d get for a while.

You might get some water, a cruel little voice in her head whispered. You can take a sip while they drown you.

The door opened and Barry sauntered in. He looked them over in a way that made Izabel glad she’d forced Brennon to put his shirt on.

“I have somethin’ to show you.” He grinned. “But just the faggots. My soldiers suggested we separate you, and I think that’s a good idea.”

Izabel thought one of the mercenaries gave Barry the side eye at the term “my soldiers,” but she couldn’t be sure.

“No,” Rowan said. “She stays with us.”

“I wasn’t asking,” Barry snarled.

“She stays with us,” Rowan repeated.

“Hit him,” Barry said with a smile.

Two mercenaries pushed past Barry and headed for Rowan.

Izabel and Brennon both jumped forward. It was stupid—what could they do?—but she couldn’t just stand there and watch him being hurt. Brennon put himself in front of Rowan, and Izabel held up her hands, the universal “stop” gesture.

“I’ll go,” she said quickly. “I’ll go.”

“No.” This time it was both Rowan and Brennon.

“I’ll go,” Brennon said quickly. “Take me. You want to separate us to ensure good behavior, right? Take me.”

“No,” Barry said. “We’re taking the girl. But don’t worry, she’s just going to play nurse.”

Play nurse? Like…naughty nurse? Izabel’s stomach rolled.

“We need to move,” one of the mercenaries still in the hall said. “Take her.”

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