Page 39 of White Raven

“I said . . .” He curved his head back, his tone gravelly. “Come. Here.”

My heels dug down firmer into the crumbling floor, my nails digging crescents into my arms.

“I think you need to be reminded that when I call you, you come,” he growled. “I know you’re used to being pampered and called my lady, but let’s not forget, you are the prisoner here.”

Defiantly, I kept my place, staring back at him, locked in a battle of dominance.

“Even in defeat, Wrennlyn, you do not show weakness.” Father’s voice spoke in my head. “Never concede to your enemy.”

He slanted his head, taking in my challenge. I expected to feel his annoyance and wrath, but instead a slow grin tugged at his lips, leaping my heart into my throat. It was far more terrifying than any threats he could spew.

He came for me.

I wanted to take the win, but the malevolent glint in his eyes made me scuffle back until my spine rammed into a wall.

His form eclipsed mine, his arm leaning against the wall behind me as the other hand traced up my throat, his fingers a soft caress. “You know what happened to thralls who disobeyed orders under your father’s rule?” His voice seductive. A hunter teasing its prey.

I swallowed roughly, forcing my eyes to stay on his, my mouth staying closed.

“They would chain us up, lash us until we passed out from the unbearable agony. If we screamed, they would start all over.” His knuckles glided over my skin, his thumb slipped over my pulse, feeling it throb against his hand. “Using your logic, since they did it to me, it’s only fair I do the same back, right? Strip you bare and lash you, and when you beg me to stop, I start again.”

Adrenaline slammed through my veins, a shiver running down my body, squeezing at my thighs and tightening my nipples. Shame and disgust instantly filled me, turning my head to the side, rage flushing me hot.

He gripped my chin, jerking my head back to him. “Or does that only count when it’s your people being hurt?”

My nose flared; my gaze narrowed.

“Am I one to make idle threats, kanin?” He twirled the strands he’d chopped around his finger.

I wanted to kill him. I wanted to impale his body on the tower’s weathervane and watch him sink down it, screaming in agony.

“Answer me,” he growled.

“No.” I spat out the syllable.

“So next time I call . . .?” He left for me to finish.

My chest heaved in fury, blazing fire through my gaze. My jaw locked down, rage bubbling like a cauldron under my skin.

That was the only warning I got. He yanked the knife from my skirt, the one I took from him at the cabin. He grabbed one of my thin braids still woven into my hair and sliced through it. The long plait hit the stone floor with a plop, the severed locks falling loosely right below my ear.

He might as well have stabbed the blade through my chest. I stared at the hair on the ground, the embedded response to scream and cry trembling my body, like he took a chunk of flesh from me too.

My fingers itched to touch the sheared ends, but I didn’t move.

“You disobey me again, it all comes off.” He spoke close to my ear. “Let’s try this again. Next time I call you . . .”

“I come.”

His lips twitched. “Good girl.”

Hate wasn’t a strong enough term for what simmered under my skin. He purposely made me say it. He wanted to put me in my place. Punish me.

The Northerner motioned me to follow him to where he’d laid the pine for bedding, tucking us away from view of the door. Everything in my bones rejected the notion. I grew up with people following me, obeying my orders. Not that I abused it; the king made sure I understood the limits of my power every chance he got. But it still rubbed every inch of me wrong.

To me he was still the thrall. The one who should bow.

“Lie down.” He pointed to the thin layer of padding barely coating the decaying stone, the roots from trees and plants coming through, swallowing the floor.