Cooperate. A civilized way of saying he’d yet to rape her. Sickness swirled in Nasir’s stomach as he stared down at the sand beneath his feet. He’d known highborns were malicious, but this…to torture one of their own in such a way by casting her into the pits with a sahad who hadn’t touched or smelled or tasted a female in months simply to terrorize her into submitting…
“Why me?”
“That’s a question only a highborn can answer,” Malik said as he continued pacing. “To be honest, as champion, I’m surprised you haven’t been used before this. The question isn’t why, but what are you going to do about it?”
What was he going to do? Malik sounded as if he were asking what Nasir was going to do about a broken sword. They were talking about a person, for shit’s sake… A fellow djinn, regardless of her race.
He swiped a hand across his suddenly sweaty brow. What was he going to do? Holy hell, he wasn’t going to rape her, that was for damn sure. He had no intention of doing anything the highborns wanted him to do. If they thought he was defiant because he stayed alive, then they hadn’t seen anything yet. There was no way he was touching that poor girl.
“A jarriah gets only one test,” Malik said. “They will not give her to another. If you’re thinking you won’t comply in an attempt to snub the highborns, then I must tell you, it won’t work.”
Fuck them. There had to be a solution to this nightmare. Nasir’s skin grew tight as his mind spun. “How long?”
Malik came around his right side again then stopped and regarded him with steely eyes. “She’s been given five days to complete her test. Two have already passed.”
That sickness swirled and circled in his stomach. “And on the fifth? If I don’t…comply? What happens then?”
“You mean if you don’t use her before the allotted time is up?” Malik tipped his head. “Then she will be executed.”
Chapter Seven
Kavin looked up sharply as the cell door opened, then pushed to her feet as Malik stepped into the room.
“Mu’allim,” she said, bowing her head. Light from the corridor spread over his muscular body, highlighting his brown skin and warrior clothing. Even though he was technically a slave and bore the marking, he was of a higher class than her. Everyone was of a higher class than her, even the guards.
She pushed that depressing thought away as he scanned the room and asked, “The servant is gone?”
“Yes, mu’allim.”
He nodded, then gestured with his hand. “Come.”
Surprise registered. Were they letting her go? Or had Zayd finally decided she was a failure and was having her executed before waiting the allotted five days?
“Mu’allim?” she asked hesitantly, her pulse suddenly racing with a mixture of horror and sickness.
Malik’s face softened, and he motioned again. “It’s all right, jarriah. We’re just moving you to a different cell.”
Hesitantly, she stepped forward, then faltered at what that meant. “But I…I’m not supposed to go with a different sahad.” If she did, it was as clear as declaring failure. And if Zayd found out…
“No, you misunderstand, jarriah. We’re moving you both to a new cell. One that is a little…cleaner…because of the champion’s infection. He’ll join you later.”
Kavin’s brow furrowed as she moved into the brightly lit corridor and blinked against the light. That made sense. Sort of. They couldn’t very well let the great champion die of mistreatment. If they did, the guards, even Malik, would be in serious trouble with the highborns. Though she knew it would thrill them to see the champion die, they wanted it to happen in the ring, where they could wager against him and turn a profit from his death. “Y-yes, mu’allim.”
She followed Malik down the corridor, around several corners, into a section of the dungeons she didn’t recognize. No dripping water echoed here or ran along the floor. The doors were wood, not steel, and light filtered in from windows spaced high along the walls.
Malik stopped in front of a thick wood door, pulled out a heavy key ring, and turned the lock. The hinges groaned as he pushed the door open, then stepped aside so Kavin could pass.
She drew in a sharp breath when she moved inside the cell. Only…the word cell didn’t seem to fit. The room was twice as big as the one she’d been in. Yes, there were bars on the high windows along the far wall, but there was light. Blessed sunshine reflected off the white walls, gave the room a warm, airy feeling. To the left, a rectangular tiled bath already filled with water was sunk into the cement floor. To the right, a double bed with real pillows and more than one blanket sat pushed up against the wall. And on the bedside table, several candles of differing heights and thickness waited for nightfall to be lit.
It wasn’t luxurious by any means. Compared to her rooms in the harem, this one was sparse and empty. But considering she’d just spent the past two days in the dark and cold, the light, the promise of a real bath, and the thought of sleeping on a pillow seemed like heaven.
Unable to keep the tears from her eyes, she turned toward Malik. Wanted to give him a hug but knew better. “Thank you.”
He nodded, then motioned toward one of the guards who’d followed them down the corridor. “Bring the jarriah fresh towels and bathing supplies.”
The guard’s disapproving gaze flashed from Malik to her, but he turned for the hall without questioning and disappeared.
Malik looked back at her. “Rest and refresh. You deserve as much after your service to the champion. The sahad will be brought to you after his training is complete.”
Kavin blushed at his words, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn’t react. He bowed once more, then stopped at the door. To the remaining guard, he said, “Bring her whatever she asks for.”
The heavy door clanged shut, leaving Kavin standing alone in the middle of the room. And though her pulse raced at the thought of the sahad being returned to her, this time it wasn’t entirely from fear. Excitement rippled through her veins as well. Excitement at seeing him again, at talking with him—she’d liked talking with him—at ignoring what Zayd wanted her to do and just being herself.
If she only had a few more days left, there were worse places to spend them. She was determined to make the most of what little time she had.
She moved toward the bath, pulled her skirt up, and dipped her toe in the water. Then smiled because the liquid was warm. She could already imagine it sliding over her body, caressing her tired muscles, and reinvigorating her with life.
The door clanged open, causing Kavin to jump. The guard who’d gone for towels dropped supplies on the floor at her feet. “Enjoy your bath, jarriah.”
The way he snarled the last word sent a chill down her spine, but he left before she could respond. And as the key turned in the lock, she breathed out a sigh of relief.
Yeah, there were a lot worse ways to spend her last few days. If the sahad didn’t want her, well, at least the fact she was still with him meant no one else could touch her either.
She moved the supplies to the edge of the tub, then tugged off her dress, dropped it on the cement floor and stepped down into the bath. A groan slipped from her lips as she lowered herself into the water and the warmth cradled her sore muscles and battered skin.
Most djinn healed quickly, and she was no exception. The lash marks across her breasts and stomach from Zayd’s temper tantrum were nearly healed, and they didn’t sting much, but she didn’t forget they were there, or how she’d gotten them.
Reaching for the bath salts the guard had brought in, she sprinkled some into the water, then leaned back against the edge of the tub and let her legs float while her mind drifted. Images of the champion filled her mind. His powerful muscles flexing as he fought. The lines of his hard body pressing into hers as she’d hauled him to the bed in his cell last night. The look in his eyes when he’d gripped her wrist. Followed by the pain she saw lingering there. Pain she knew all too well.
Her heart bumped, a r
eaction she knew could do more damage to her than anything Zayd had planned. She was romanticizing him now, this sahad who was supposed to rape her. And yet, he hadn’t. He wouldn’t. She was as sure of that as she was the fact she’d soon be executed. But…she was no longer afraid of him. She was curious. The only thing she wanted before she died was to know more about him.
The cell door clanged open again, and her eyes flew open in surprise, her legs dropping down to the bottom of the pool in an attempt to hide her nakedness. But instead of the champion, what stared at her was the same guard who’d dropped her bathing supplies against the floor and sneered her way.
A menacing heat rolled through his eyes. One that shot Kavin’s anxiety through the stratosphere. She inched back in the tub, recognizing the predatory look in his eyes. The malice. The intent.
The door slammed closed behind him. And a depraved grin spread across his dark face. “All alone. And naked.” He crept closer as his eyes raked her body. “If the sahad won’t fuck you, it’s time someone else did, don’t you think?” His beady eyes narrowed as he reached for the buckle at his waist. “You can thank me later.”
Oh, shit.
Terror whipped through Kavin’s entire body. She glanced right and left, searching for anything to use as a weapon. The guard wasn’t armed, but she knew he could easily overpower her. And would.
No, no, no. Not like this. If it was anyone other than the sahad, she’d be executed on the spot. She wouldn’t even have these last few precious days.
He moved closer as he pulled his belt through the loops and dropped it on the floor with a clank. Her legs tensed, her adrenaline pulsed. Her only hope was to get across the room, to maybe use the candles as a weapon…or something from the bed? A spring…anything?
Shit. Oh, shit.
If she screamed, anyone walking by would just assume the sahad was finally giving her what she’d been sent here for. The guard slinked around the far side of the tub, pulling off his armor as he moved until he was dressed in just the black pants and thin shirt he’d worn underneath. And as Kavin watched with wide eyes, her hand inched out along the edge of the bath, her fingers wrapping around the jar of bath salts.
Her heart raced while she waited for him to move closer still. He toed off his shoes, his eyes never leaving her, then he stepped down into the pool, obviously not even caring about his pants. “Come here, jarriah.”
Kavin breathed hard. Waited. And just before he reached her, she hurled the contents of the jar into his eyes.
He swore, his hands rushed to his face, and a menacing roar erupted from him. She didn’t wait to see what he’d do next. She rushed through the water to the other end of the pool and tore across the floor toward the bed.
“You bitch!”
She scrambled over the bed, then bent down and grabbed the frame, flinging the bed up and over onto its side as a barrier. Metal clanged against the cement floor. The guard found his footing, pushed his legs through the water. “You’ll pay, whore. I was going to go easy on you, but not now.”
Kavin’s adrenaline spiked. She grabbed a candle from the table beside her, then pulled her arm back and hurled it toward him as hard as she could. It hit him in the forehead. His head snapped back, and his feet faltered. He swore again. Kavin reached for another candle.
But before she could grasp it, he was over the bed, his hand tightening over her wrist, the other closing around her throat. “Fucking bitch!”
Her eyes flew wide. He slammed her back against the cement wall. Pain spiraled out from her skull, radiated through her body. Air choked in her lungs while he squeezed. The candle fell from her hand.
He released her wrist. Reached for the button on his pants. Spots fired off behind Kavin’s eyes as he continued to squeeze her throat, cutting off her air. She lifted her leg, tried to knee him in the groin, but he moved out of her way. Tears rushed to her eyes. She swung out with her arms, tried to pry his hand free, but he was too strong. Gasping, she struck his face, clawed at his eyes. But nothing stopped him.
No, no, no. Not like this…
His pants dropped. He pushed her legs wide. A sob caught in her throat as her vision came and went.
Somewhere close, metal clanged. Followed by a voice. A male, familiar voice. “You son of a bitch.”
The pressure around her neck released. His body was pulled from hers. Sucking in air, Kavin dropped to the floor, her hands rushing to her throat, her body convulsing as she tried to breathe.
Slowly, she became aware of a struggle in front of her. Looking up, she watched in wonder and surprise as the champion towered over the guard, clutching his shirt in one hand, slamming his fist into the guard’s jaw again and again and again. Chest heaving, he finally stopped and dropped the guard to the ground, but there was no missing the hatred in his eyes as he stared down at the bloody mess at his feet. “If you touch her…if you so much as look at her again, I will fucking kill you. I don’t care what they do to me. I’ll find a way to rip your miserable throat out.”
The guard’s eyes were filled with stark, raving fear as he scrambled back, pulling up his pants in the process. Voices echoed from the hall, and Kavin looked that way just as another guard and the champion’s mu’allim moved into the cell.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Malik demanded.
The sahad didn’t answer, instead tore a blanket off the bed and turned toward Kavin, draping it over her naked body.
His eyes met hers briefly. Hard, cold, enraged eyes. But lurking inside them, she saw what she’d seen earlier. Compassion. Strength. Resolve.
Her breath caught.
He moved in front of her, putting himself between her and the others. “The guard tripped.”
The room spun as Kavin looked from the sahad to Malik and back again. She knew what he was doing. If he was found guilty of attacking a guard, he could be punished, or worse, executed for the crime.
Malik glanced at the overturned bed, then to the guard’s bloody face and finally to his armor, belt, and shoes strewn across the floor. His gaze snapped back to the guard, and in his eyes, malice burned hot and bright. Malice that made Kavin swallow hard. “Is this true?”
The guard opened his bloody mouth to answer, but a low growl from the sahad drew his attention. Fear rushed back into his eyes as he stared at the champion. After several long beats, he swallowed hard and slowly nodded. “Y-yeah. I tripped.”
Malik looked toward Kavin for confirmation. Unable to bear his gaze, she shivered and glanced down, wrapping the blanket tighter around her. To the guard behind him, Malik barked, “Gather his gear. And take him to the infirmary.”
The second guard’s eyes were wide with disbelief, but he did as Malik instructed. As the two shuffled out of the room, Malik said in a softer voice, “Jarriah, are you okay?”
Shame burned hot through Kavin’s veins. Shame and anger that she was here, that others had to see her like this, that she was at the mercy of all these males. She nodded, unable to muster up the words.
Silence echoed through the room, then Malik’s shoes sounded, followed by the snap of the cell door closing.
Relief pulsed through Kavin as she fought back the tears suddenly burning behind her eyes. She’d lived. She hadn’t been raped by that guard. But her chest rose and fell with quick breaths as if she were still in the midst of the attack. Why was she about to lose it now?
Metal groaned as the sahad tipped the bed back onto its legs, but Kavin barely cared. Her entire body shook, sending a chill over her skin and a sob rushing up her throat.
“It’s over now.” The sahad’s voice was soft. Close. Comforting. And then his arms were around her. Lifting her from the floor, cradling her gently against him, carrying her toward the bed.
She didn’t fight him. Didn’t even think to. All she could do was focus on breathing. On slowing her pulse. She sank onto his lap as he sat, and when he tugged her face down to rest in the hollow between his throat and shoulder and rubbed his hand up and down her bac
k and hip and leg, she let him.
“Shh…you’re okay now. No one’s going to hurt you.”
He’d saved her. The thought revolved in her mind as her adrenaline rushed out on a wave. Not only that, but he could have been executed for doing so. The reality of that stole her breath all over again.
His body was warm against hers. Warm and big and a thousand times stronger than that guard’s, but she felt safe with him. Safer than she had with anyone else…ever. And she couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d just done.
Slowly, she swiped at her eyes, then finally lifted her head to look up. His square jaw was covered in a thin layer of scruff, his skin was the color of caramel, his eyes a rich ebony. And his hair, black as night and hanging almost to his shoulders, looked so soft she had the sudden urge to run her fingers through the thick locks. “Wh-what is your name?”
The words were out before she could stop them. Before she could think to stop them. His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t let go, didn’t pull away, didn’t stop his hand running across her back, sending delicious shivers through her entire body.
“Nasir.” His lips—his very masculine lips—drew her attention, made her wonder what they felt like. What they tasted like.
“Helper,” she whispered, recognizing the meaning. “Your name is very much appreciated today.”
“I’m no hero, jar—” His words cut off abruptly as his brow dropped low. “I don’t want to call you that. What is your name?”
“Kavin,” she answered, relieved he didn’t want to use that word. Relieved she didn’t have to hear it.
“Isn’t that usually a boy’s name?”
“My father wanted a son.” He’d gotten her instead. Then had easily gotten rid of her.
She pushed that unwelcome thought aside as his gaze ran over her features. And her stomach tightened while she wondered what he saw.
Did he see a pleasure slave? A Ghul? Or did he see simply a female in a horrific situation?
Slave To Passion (Firebrand Series) Page 7