Page 60 of Vasmora

Humiliation sent a flood of warmth across my sinuses, burning in my cheeks. I jerked and wriggled, chains clanking against the post in futility, and let out a frustrated growl.

“Which of my men would be willing to mount a mortal, hmmm? Who will honor her with your seed?”

“Let me go!” Teeth clenched, I wriggled and yanked at the unyielding binds.

“Anyone? What say you, Nethryk?” she asked, holding my skirt in the air. “I’m certain she’s tight enough to please.”

I looked up to see the Orgoth turn his cheek to me, grimacing.

“Pity. Few can withstand the girth of an Orgoth.” Wine splashed the back of my neck as I wrenched at the chains, knocking into her arm. “Ocaelo? Lucen?”

Another long pause followed. Some of the soldiers laughed.

“Go on, then, Lucen,” one of them taunted. “You said she was pretty for a filthy mortal, now’s your chance!”

More of them laughed.

“Take a crack at her, yourself, you dirty trouser snake!” another fired back.

Loyce chuckled, throwing my skirt back over my body, and knelt alongside me, burying a smile into her goblet.

My skin prickled with her proximity, like beetles with sticky legs scampering down my spine.

“How utterly undesirable do you have to be, for men starved of a woman’s cunt to reject you? Offering one of my prisoners has always been a treat for these men. But you …” She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and I bit my lip, forcing myself not to spit in her face. “Not even a lowly servant is willing to wet his cock inside your mortal body. They look upon you like a farmer looks upon a diseased cow. Useless meat. Destined for slaughter.”

“Then, slaughter me already,” I gritted out, and through a tremble of rage, I managed a smirk. “Oh, I forgot. You can’t.”

Her eye twitched, a sneer curling her lips. “Unshackle her,” she said, pushing to her feet.

Captain Drefan ushered one of the guards forward, who went to work on my shackles as he and Loyce stood nearby, the general staring at me over the rim of her goblet.

“Oh!” she said, turning to him. “Captain Drefan, I’ve something that might be of interest to you.” She handed off her goblet to a nearby servant and produced a vial of crystal violet fluid from her trousers. “I’m told it’s called wolfsbane.”

His eyes held a glint of curiosity as he accepted it. “Wolfsbane?”

“One drop on a blade or sword is believed to render a razorwolf powerless. Of course, it hasn’t been formally tested. Few are willing to seek out the beasts.”

“I’d be honored to take on the task myself, General.” He pressed a hand to his heart, as if the man had a drop of honor in his bones.

The soldier unclasped the last of my bindings and dragged me to my feet.

“Excellent. I’ll have you leave at first light. There’s word they’ve been spotted by villagers just outside of Gildspire. Would you like a team assembled?”

Holding the vial up to the light, he tilted it side to side. “No. Thank you, General. I prefer to hunt alone.”

“Very good.” Her attention shifted toward me. “Well, little dove, I suspect you’re quite hungry from your little antics earlier. Perhaps you’d like something to eat.”

The mere suggestion of food had my stomach twisting on itself, but I remained silent, staring back at her.

One of the servants hurried toward me, carrying a tray of meats, bread, olives and chocolates. It’d been hours since I’d last eaten, nothing more than slop, and saliva pooled on my tongue at the sight of fresh foods, their scents taunting my resistance.

“Go on, then. Eat.”

When I didn’t make a move for the food, she tipped her head. “Eat.”

Still, I refused.

“Eat!” Her voice bounced off the walls, fury burning in her gaze.