by Raven Dark
“One day, Kitten.” Hawk’s voice returned, pulling me back to him like an invisible string was tethered to my being. “When you’re awake, and I can hold you, I’ll tell you everything. Even the things that Sheriff doesn’t know. I think you’re the only person in the entire world who…” He paused, then sighed. “Before that can happen, Kitten…Setora…you have to wake up. You have to fight. And when you do, I’m going to make everything up to you. I promise. No more shutting you out. I’m going to try my damnedest, alright?”
My heart expanded, hearing his words. I wanted each word to be true, not played out in some strange dream state. He was right; I did need to wake up.
But how?
Home. Come back home where you belong.
The urgency in that voice scared me, filled me with foreboding. Then it was gone. My heart raced.
“I still can’t believe Sheriff has you in his personal rooms.”
I jerked my eyes to the person sitting beside me now. I was back on my stone bench, back in the garden.
“Cherry.” I grinned, happiness filling me again.
“How you doin’, Violet.”
Even though her form was blurry, I knew it was her.
“Didn’t I tell you that you had wormed your way into his stubborn-as-a-mule heart?” she said now.
“Sheriff.”
“Of course, Sheriff. He’s a downright mess, barking orders, postponing meetings, ordering this and that. He barely has any hair left from pulling at it all day and night.”
I wished I could laugh along with her. I wished I could ask her why Sheriff was acting so erratic. What had happened? Whatever it was, I was secretly relieved that I wasn’t there to bear the brunt of it—or be the cause, as was more often the case.
“Seriously, Violet. You need to wake up. It’s been four days. It’s not like you to live like this—pampered and fawned over, sharing the General’s quarters, taking all of his attention. Other Violets would live like this, but not you.”
“I can’t. I can’t go back there. It hurts too much.” Living, existing hurt too much.
She sighed, her form becoming more solid by the second. She looked around her, and after a moment shook her head at me. “Fuck, I can’t believe you’re that little girl that rescued me from my uncle’s. It’s just…insane. Once you and I got to that shithole those fuckers took us to, I hate to say it, but I forgot all about you. There were just so many girls there. And by the time you were already gone, I figured you were sold along with the others. I couldn’t get away. I didn’t, not for a long time.
“I stayed for a few more years till they sold me.” Her voice lowered, taking on a slight quiver as she became a blurry mass again. “They sold me off to Captain Roth. He and his fucking Violet bitch…I wished every damn day that I could die.”
I heard her sniffle, then she cleared her throat.
“Nope, not gonna go there today. You’re going to wake up and start bugging the shit out of me again with your stupid questions. We’re going to have our daily baths, do our daily chores, and I’m going to pick out your clothes for dinners again.” An agonized note made her voice go up in pitch. “Plus, I need your advice about a certain sex fiend who won’t let me breathe, Maker help him.”
I heard the smile in her voice at that last part. Crash the sex fiend?
I blinked, and when I looked again, Cherry was gone, and I was alone. Suddenly, the black void surrounded me, like a light going out. Was it my cue to wake up, to return to the people I cared about?
I tried, by the Maker’s Light, I tried to wake up, tried to reach out to tell her that I was there, that I was coming, but nothing happened.
Time passed after Cherry disappeared, though I don’t know how long, or even how I knew that it had, but the void disappeared once more, and I was back in the garden again.
“Princess, can you hear me?” Pretty Boy’s voice came from behind me, but I couldn’t make myself turn around.
The sun hadn’t moved from the sky, and the soothing summer breeze cooled my brow. I didn’t want to go into that void again, that empty, dead place, so instead, I remained seated on the stone bench and feasted my eyes on the magnificent flora around me.
“Princess, can you hear me?”
I closed my eyes at his words. I wanted to look at him, wanted to see his perfect face, but what would happen when I did?
“Please come back to me, to us. So many people want to see you. Everyone’s come by to visit. They all want to see if you’re getting better. Even Dice comes by to sit with you. You know him, he never comes out of that new place of his.”
I clenched my fist, resisting the pull to turn around and face my blond master, my dark angel.
Like a ton of bricks, it hit me. I knew what was wrong. I was dying, about a touch away from the Maker’s Light.
I wasn’t ready to go to the Maker, nowhere near ready.
“Fuck, I miss you, woman. You’re all I wanna see when I wake up in the morning, and you’re all I wanna do at night. Come on, baby, fucking fight this. Come back to me.”
The longing in his voice slashed at my heart. I’d have braved the void if it meant his pain would stop.
At last, I stood and turned around. There he was with that perfect smile, a cocky one that made my eyes tear up. Movement behind him in the distance caught my attention. We were not alone. A sliver of fear went through me. Something wasn’t right.
I could barely make out the hazy form by the trees fifty feet away. When I looked at Pretty Boy again, my master was gone.
Home. Come to us. You belong here.
The voice was too urgent, but it pulled at every cell in my being.
I still couldn’t make out who it was standing by the trees, but I ran toward them anyway.
I slammed into a wall and fell backwards, landing on a soft bed. The scent of sandalwood and cedar filled my nose, letting me know exactly where I was now. Sheriff’s room.
I opened my eyes to low lights, the canopied bed’s curtains having been tied back. The room was mostly shadows and firelight.
Someone was sitting in a chair close to the bed, just a shadow. I startled, heart beating in my throat until whoever it was shifted a little. The light played across his chiseled features, his indigo eyes focused on something behind me.
Sheriff.
He looked terrible. Several day’s growth of a black beard covered his jaw, his hair was disheveled, and he was shirtless. Tattoos sculpted his muscled chest and shoulders in a collage of intricate patterns in dark strokes.
He was beautiful.
I blinked at him, swallowed, my throat dry. “Hello, Master,” I rasped.
There were too many shadows to read his expression, but his chest rose and fell on a heavy breath. He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “We thought you’d never wake up. Are you in pain?”
I shook my head, which felt like it was stuffed with cotton. There was no pain. Why wasn’t there any pain? In the void, I’d been terrified of coming back because of the pain, but there was nothing. Instead, I floated in a haze of drugged numbness.
Working moisture into my mouth, I tried to touch my chest, but my arms were too weak to lift them. Sheriff put his hand on my knee.
“Don’t even think about it. You aren’t going anywhere, little spy.”
Irritation skimmed the surface of my numbness, but the nickname made me laugh. The sound came out coarse from my parched throat.
“Thirsty?”
When I nodded, he called for Doc. The doors to the bedroom opened and Doc walked in.
“Setora. You’re awake. Thank the Maker.” He walked over, took out a small light and flashed it into my eyes, first one, then the other. “How are you feeling?”
My thoughts spun sluggishly, a kaleidoscope of half-formed memories and snatches of conversations, faces. Most of which couldn’t have been real.
Unsure what was real and what wasn’t, I decided evasiveness was best until I had time to process e
verything. “I feel…loopy.”
“Doc, she needs water.”
He nodded and went to a pitcher sitting on the nightstand beside the bed. As he poured water into one of Sheriff’s sparkling, diamond studded goblets, he kept looking at me, thick, dark brows furrowed. Why was he looking at me like that? A chill went up my spine.
“What?” I croaked. “What is it, sir?”
“Doc,” Sheriff said with an odd hint of warning.
The water had started to overflow onto the tray the glass had been sitting on. Doc swore and set the pitcher down.
“Sorry.” He handed me the glass and Sheriff helped me sit up so Doc could slip an extra pillow behind me. “We had to give you some pretty heavy shit, otherwise you’d be in a lot of pain. Are you hurting at all?”
I shook my head. “Can’t feel a thing, sir.” I sipped the water, letting the cool liquid soothe my throat and coat my chapped lips.
‘Sip it slowly,” Sheriff said. “I don’t want you choking on me, now.”
I wished I could read his tone. After a few more sips, Sheriff took the glass and set it on the night stand on his side so that I could lie back against the thick pillows while Doc checked my pulse and other vitals.
“Do you remember anything about what happened, why you’re here?” Doc asked. He folded the blanket back to my waist and pressed his fingers under my jaw, under my armpits.
Not until then did I realize I was stripped naked except for the blanket. Doc didn’t bat an eye at my breasts as he sat beside me, working with a trained detachment. He checked my wound, making me look down before I could reply.
The middle and part of the left side of my chest was covered with gauze and surgical tape to hold it in place, which Doc peeled back. Seeing the dressed wound sent the memory of what happened rushing back at me.
“Madi’san. She hid the knife in her hair. She threw it at Sheriff, but it hit me instead.” I shook my head. “It hardly seems real.”
“You leaped in front of me.” Sheriff’s voice was gruff. “I should whip your fucking ass for being so stupid, woman.”
I couldn’t tell if he meant it or not, but I’d deal with that later. I looked at Doc. “Where is Madi’san? And Grizzle? They want the General dead, they—”
“After all this, you’re still worried about me.” Sheriff shook his head. “I can take care of myself. And don’t concern yourself with those two fucks. They won’t be bothering anyone again.”
Meaning they were dead. The awareness of this brought a wave of relief, shocking in its intensity. I’d never felt such reassurance over a death before. It bothered me to realize I felt so much better knowing they couldn’t go after Sheriff again. I relaxed against the pillows, letting the sense of safety envelop me.
“How long have I been out, Doc? How long has it been since I was hurt? And wait…why am I here and not in the infirmary?”
Doc chuckled. “I see what Steel means now. You do ask a lot of questions. It’s been four days. You know, most people would have taken months to heal from an injury like yours, Setora, but you’re already halfway there. The wound is closed. I’ll have to check it again when I change your dressing later, but I think I can remove the stitches tomorrow. I’ve never seen anyone heal like that.”
“Four days.” I glanced at them both. “That’s what Cherry said.”
“What?” Sheriff. “You heard her? How?”
Doc had that strange look on his face again, as if he didn’t know what to make of me, only this time, whatever emotion I saw there was echoed in the General’s intense gaze.
“I don’t know, Master. I mean, I thought I was having a dream. Cherry said I’d been out for four days. I thought it was just my brain playing tricks. But if that was real, that means it really was her at that house all those years ago.”
If what I’d heard from Cherry had been real, was everything else real, too? What about that terrible void, where all the flowers died? I shivered.
Both men were still eyeing me strangely.
“What? What is it, Doc? Master?”
The looked at each other.
“Master?”
Doc’s eyes locked on me. “Setora, there is something we need to discuss.” He started to reach into the breast pocket of his white smock.
“Doc. Not now.”
Doc opened his mouth like he was going to argue, then nodded. “Right.” He tucked the blankets around me. “Well, you’re doing wonderfully. That Violet healing is incredible. As I said, the wound is closed, but I’ve never dealt with this kind of healing before, so I don’t want you doing anything to exert yourself.”
“Yes, sir.”
He wouldn’t look at me as he changed the dressing on my wound. “I’m putting a special waterproof bandage over the dressing, so you can bathe and whatnot.” He smoothed the see-through covering over the dressing. “Now, get some rest. If you need anything at all, tell the General, and we’ll get you taken care of. It’s good to have you back.” Then he left me alone with the Sheriff.
What had he been about to say to me before Sheriff stopped him? What was it my master didn’t want me to know? I wanted to ask, but I knew if he chose to keep it from me, I wouldn’t be finding out until he was ready.
Before I could think too long on this, Sheriff stood and paced across the room, catching my attention. The tattooed muscles in his back were too tight, the firelight playing across them so that they seemed alive, like thick black, coiling snakes. When he turned and looked at me, his jaw was hard. Nervousness ate at me, remembering his earlier threat.
“Are you angry with me, Master?”
His lips twisted in a smile, but it looked forced. “What do you think?” he growled. Then he started pacing the room again in long strides, reminding me of a prowling tiger. “You leaped right in front of that fucking blade. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t.” I tried for a smile.
“You’re damn right, you weren’t!” He whirled around to me, fist tight. “What do you think you are, some kind of hero? Always leaping in and saving everyone without a thought for yourself?”
Normally, I might have been irritated with him, but under his anger, I could feel something else. A protectiveness I’d never sensed before from him. It sent warmth all the way to my toes. Maybe I was imagining it, but I didn’t care right then.
“I couldn’t let you die, Master,” I said.
He made an angry noise. “I can take care of myself, slave. You almost got yourself killed.” He paced back to me and lifted a finger, his eyes blazing. “Mark me, woman, if you ever, ever do anything so stupid again, I’ll beat your ass so hard you won’t sit for a week. Is that clear?”
The words should have scared the hell out of me. He meant them, I could feel it in the way my muscles tensed, in the steel of his voice. I knew far too much about what his belt across my backside felt like to take it lightly. But the threat also felt…right in a way I couldn’t put into words.
“Yes, Master,” I whispered.
He sighed, his shoulders sagged, and he crossed the room to the bed. Sheriff leaned down, hands gripping the headboard to either side of my head, his face in mine.
“What the fuck am I gonna do with you?” His voice was fire in my veins, low and deep and gorgeous. “You’re infuriating.”
I licked my lips to hide a grin. His lips hovered so close to mine the heat of his breath made them tingle. I thought he’d kiss me then, but he just lowered his head. “You fucking drive me crazy.”
“Master, I don’t need to be here,” I said, unable to think of anything better.
“Excuse me?” He looked at me. “You stay where I want you to stay.”
“I only meant, you don’t need an infirm slave taking up your bed.” I moved to sit up, but he put his palm on my shoulder, gentle, but firm.
“Don’t even,” he rumbled. “You don’t get up from that bed until I tell you.”
He’d obviously meant for me to stay put for my health, but the
possession in his voice had me imagining he was keeping me in his bed for another reason. The kind that caused a familiar ache to start between my legs.
“Yes, Master.”
Was I being a fool, thinking he wanted me there in order to take care of me? Cherry had implied as much. The thought made my heart feel huge, and yet a General—or the leader of any population—keeping a slave in his bed except for his own use was unheard of.
He straightened and gave a satisfied nod. “The others will want to come back for visits soon. Get some rest before they start traipsing through here like you’re the Maker come.”
I wanted to argue, but I was too tired, so I yawned instead. I drifted off to sleep with the General seated in a chair at my side, but not before one thought swirled through my mind.
Everything had changed. I’d come back to a world that saw me differently, to masters who looked on me in a way they hadn’t before. I’d survived, but what would that mean for me—for all of us—now?
Chapter 3
Holding Court
The next few days passed by in a blur of sleep and short visits. I was always tired, too much so for long conversations, so after a half an hour or so, Sheriff would shoo everyone out, leaving only Pretty Boy behind to watch over me when he couldn’t.
It was a strange thing. For the past three days, Sheriff kept me confined to his rooms, but he barely spoke to me. Even when watching over me, he did so from a certain distance.
Pretty Boy usually sat with me during the day while Sheriff was busy with club matters. Sheriff arrived late at night and was gone in the morning, but he hardly behaved like the master I expected.
For one thing, he rarely sat with me, but he never let me get too far away, either. Instead, he worked at a desk in his quarters while leaving me to read, or he met with club members in the next room. For another, he never slept with me, instead sleeping elsewhere while I stayed in his bed. He maintained that he wanted to leave me undisturbed while I healed, and yet his bed was certainly large enough for him to be there without crowding me. It didn’t make sense.