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She stares back with trepidation. “You don’t. I can take care of myself.”
“We have a little dilemma, Kara.” Her heart pounds in her chest so loudly I can hear every beat even though she tries to appear calm and strong. “I’ve decided I’d like to keep you for a while.” Her face hardens with anger. “I’d just like to get to know you and care for you while you recover from everything you’ve been through.”
She smirks at me and tilts her head. “I highly doubt that.” I can smell her fear, but she stares daggers at me with courage. I fucking love it. I love her courage. But I need her to give me this. I can’t have her hating me when I’ve done nothing to her.
“You can doubt it all you like, but that’s not the dilemma. My brothers will be curious and I’d rather they not be involved with our relationship.” I reach down and snatch the bit of fabric that’s frayed and rip it off her body. It tears far too easily, jostling her as she fights to hold onto it. She’s unsuccessful, and she gasps and quickly tries to cover herself. That’s fine, for now. I turn sideways as a compromise. “In the water, Kara.”
“Fuck you!” she practically hisses.
“You don’t have to fight me on everything.” I keep my eyes on the wall even though I badly need to gaze upon her body. I need to know exactly what state she’s in. She’s malnourished, but I’m hopeful there is nothing I cannot tend to. A long moment of silence passes, and I can just barely make out her movements in my periphery. When I see her lift her leg to sink into the tub, a heavy breath I didn’t even know I was holding leaves me. The sound of her sinking into the tub tempts me to turn, but I resist until she’s settled. Thank fuck. I don’t know what I would’ve done if she didn’t drop her resistance. I hear her hiss as the water hits the wound. The sound of her pain makes my heart clench and I lean down and let a few drops of oil drip into the tub before turning off the water.
“This will help with the pain.” I dip the sponge into the bath and gently wipe the grime off her stiff shoulders. Her arms are crossed over her knees that are pulled up to her chest. “Does this feel all right?” I’m only grateful her fight has waned.
It takes her far too long to answer, her breathing is labored, and a small fear takes over my body, stopping my movements. “It’s not making the pain worse, is it?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“Does it feel any better?” With her eyes closed, she slowly nods her head and whispers, “Yes.”
Turmoil consumes me as I continue washing her back. My heart breaks for her. My poor, little treasure.
She needs time to adjust. I don’t have time though. If my brothers find her… A thought hits me that chills my bones. I’d kill them for her. If they tried to take her from me, I’d fight to the death for her. The absolution in my thought is sobering.
The possession I feel for her is crazed. This intense desire to protect her, to have her, to kill for her affections. With the heady realization, I place the sponge in her hand and look away. I cannot allow these thoughts to be so consuming. It’s far too dangerous. My tone is colder, “Wash yourself. Your back is clean.”
The calming sounds of water soothe the bothered bits of my mind. As I stare ahead at the wall, centering myself once again and ignoring the pacing of my dragon, I focus on logical thought.
“As I was saying,” I start and she pauses her ministrations for only a moment and then I continue, “my brothers will be curious about our relationship.”
“We don’t have a relationship.”
“Not yet we don’t. But we may, if we find that we suit one another.”
“Suit one another for what kind of relationship?” She speaks her truth in a deadened tone. “A prisoner and her warden? Or worse?” I don’t care for her response. But I also don’t miss how it’s validated by the events leading up to this point.
“You are not well. You’re thin and obviously mistreated.” I’m a fucking liar for saying this, but it’s partly true. “I only wish to heal you.”
“I don’t understand why you’d want to keep that from your brothers.” Her wit was not expected.
“Not just my brothers…” I grasp at anything to offer her a reason. “I don’t desire to appear weak.”
“You think it’s weak to help others?” With her staring at me, waiting for an answer, I turn to face her, eye to eye.
“I think it can be perceived as weak and often taken as a vulnerability. But no, it is not weak to help others.” She seems to accept my response. Her features soften and I can practically see her walls crumble. Good. That will help soften the blow. “Instead, I’m going to tell them you’re my pet.”
“Fuck you.” She spits the words at me and backs away from me, splashing water with the violent movement. She pulls her arms out of the water to shield herself. It’s as if she expects me to be aggressive. I’m reminded how little she knows.
“It’s not as bad as it seems;Galen used the term some time ago. That’s the only reason I call it that.”
“It means I’d be your whore! I’d rather you beat me.”
“It doesn’t mean that at all. It means that you will obey me in front of them and I will reward you. I’ll give you anything and everything you could possibly want. All I need is for you to do as I say.”
“All I want is my freedom.”
“I'm not letting you go.” The response leaves me with the possessiveness I cannot control or hide.
“Then I'll simply starve myself.” Her answer only angers me. Fuck her insolence. She will learn to obey me.
