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My senses felt heightened, every noise magnified, each whiff of the stagnant air intensely registering.
The recycled air was stale, like long-stored water.
“Look, Sneik,” I began, trying to keep my voice steady. “I really think you’re making a mistake. I’m not the Prize you’re hoping for.”
My eyes darted around, noting the other prisoners eyeing me with a mix of envy and hunger.
A wave of fear washed over me, but I held my ground.
He continued walking, seemingly oblivious to my words.
But I wasn’t about to give up.
“Honestly, there are far more experienced females back in the Prize Pool. Ones who wouldn’t disappoint you. I mean, have I mentioned I snore? Really loudly. And I have this thing where I sing in the shower, terribly off-key. It’s genuinely awful. Trust me, you don’t want that.”
His gaze remained forward.
I might as well be talking to a brick wall.
The look on his face was inscrutable, but I pressed on.
“And then there’s my inability to cook. Anything. At all. The last time I tried to make a simple soup, it turned into an inedible sludge.” I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Really, you’d be so much happier with someone else. Shall I make suggestions?”
There were a couple of bitches back at the Pool that I would love to see Claimed instead of me.
The sounds of the prison seemed to become more pronounced, from the faint, melodic hums of some far-off machinery to the distant calls of prisoners communicating in coded language.
I continued my pleas, each one more desperate than the last.
I could feel the heat from his body, a strange juxtaposition to the cold metal of the prison.
A scent, both foreign and oddly comforting, wafted from him, an amalgamation of musk and something more ethereal, like the aroma of a distant forest after the rain.
I glanced behind us to the two guards closely trailing, their faces stern and unyielding.
Their uniforms made them seem almost robotic, with their aluminum sheen and the bright lights emanating from their visors.
I toyed with the idea of reaching out to them, of imploring them for help.
But the emptiness in their gaze, the cold detachment, told me all I needed to know.
They were here to do a job and nothing more.
Resigned, I turned my attention back to Sneik. “I’m terrible at sex,” I said. “I didn’t want to admit that, but I’ve never pleased a man once in my life. Seriously, if you want a good time, you should find someone else.”
We reached his cell, the door sliding open with a soft hiss.
He pulled me back and thrust me forward into his room, finally releasing me from his grip.
I hesitated, then stepped inside.
The cell was surprisingly spacious, decorated with various trophies and trinkets from his victories in the pits.
“Sit,” he rumbled, pointing to a plush-looking seat.
I complied, my senses still on high alert.
The seat was softer than it looked.
