Page 135 of The Hunted

“Did you think it would be the seas that killed you?” Eryx asked.

Corval didn’t answer.

He couldn’t.

Eryx nodded and smiled thinly. “Seems the tables have turned, Corval.”

The hunter became the prey.

“As they should,” Eryx added, “and as my mate might say, our kind is owed this.”

The prince left when Corval stopped gurgling.

• • •

Arelle

The first thing Arelle learned about the royal court of Bloodhurst?

She was on display.

At all times. Even if she thought no one was looking. Someone always was.

At times, she might be treated like delicate art. Expected to be perfectly still and quiet, as though she were an unmovable statue, in the corner of the room while the king ate sweets and drank wine with his favorite people.

Other times, she would be expected to dance. In the court square. While it rained. And everyone looked on through the safety of a windowsill.

They even came to watch the merwomen of the harem through a wall made of bars that overlooked the pool where they all preferred to spend their time.

Always naked. Or practically.

Collars at their throats.

She was a thing.

A prized possession.

An object to move at someone else’s will.

Kisa had been wrong when she’d said Arelle would only be called upon when she was considered safe. Well, partially. Arelle was never left alone with the king—a guard was always nearby to make sure she stayed in line. He did, however, call on her quite often to do whatever he pleased.

Except for fucking her, it seemed.

That wasn’t safe yet.

“Were you more interesting to look at or talk to when you were with my son?” the king asked. “Or are you just that good of a lay that your lack of conversation makes up for it?”

Arelle turned her head slowly to meet the man’s gaze, her brow raising at his blatant question and the implication behind it. “Are you asking me if he fucked me, or if I liked it?”

The few people that were close enough to the king and his new favorite slave, who he had yet to get a night with, quieted instantly. A guard took one step forward, closer to the circle of pillows where Misael apparently liked to spend his evenings watching the court attempt to entertain him with many different things in the grand room made of marble carvings and high archways.

The king raised a single hand, stopping the guard from coming any closer. Never once did he move his gaze from Arelle.

“Both,” he settled on saying.

“Then yes,” she returned before smirking when she added, “and yes for the other, too.”

“Bold, mermaid.”