Sold to Serve: The Dark Brothers Book 1

by Kyra Alessy

  ‘Let me,’ he called to her, unlatching the door slowly as he observed her. He opened it and put the rope hanging along the wall in her hand.

  She mumbled a thanks and then she was gone, leaving him with a vague notion that she was quarry he would definitely enjoy trapping. He turned and shuffled slowly back into the room, closing the door softly.

  He found himself looking forward to the next time they were alone together, but, surprisingly, not because his plan was bearing fruit. He wanted her body, yes. He wanted to devour her, but there was something else. She was far more interesting than he’d first presumed. He wanted to spend time with her and the realisation caught him by surprise. He could feel his dislike slowly dissolving and other, much pleasanter feelings were quickly taking their place. That other, nicer part of him began to wonder if he should abandon this plan of seduction. He was only going to hurt her again.

  He growled, shoving those ridiculous thoughts away. Everyone hurt everyone. He’d learned long ago that it was much better to be the one doling out the pain than the one feeling it.

  Chapter 12

  When Kora got to her room, she closed herself in and let out a shaky breath, leaning her forehead against the thick, wooden door. What was happening to her? Lucian had shown her many times that he was vicious and merciless. He gained such delight in tormenting her. Why was she even entertaining his request to spend her days in the library with him? At least he was asking, she supposed. That was a good thing, wasn’t it? He could have simply ordered her, but he was being nice – charming even.

  Perhaps that was the problem. Was it all a trick? She gave a weary sigh. He had caused her pain, humiliation and sorrow on countless occasions since she’d come here, after all. Was this just another way to torture her or was she being paranoid? She pushed herself away from the door. He was also beginning to ask questions, and the others would follow suit.

  She sat heavily in her chair by the casement. What was she going to tell them was the reason she, a house slave, had been cast from her home when she’d never been a house slave at all? What if they learned the truth and they ransomed her back to her father or, even worse, to Blackhale? They were – or at least had been until recently – mercenaries. They would use her to get back the money Mace had paid for her a hundredfold. Her father would give them anything, even if Blackhale no longer wanted her, simply to save face.

  She stared out into the blackness in front of her, imagining the view. She was already bored with her own company. How many days could a person sit in a chair in a room without losing their mind? Gods help her, but she would say yes to Lucian, she decided at that moment, simply for a change of scene. He was cruel and deceitful, but at least he wasn’t dull.

  That night passed as usual. Bad dreams followed by the comforting embrace of some fresh-smelling phantom that wasn’t there in the morning.

  The next day, she went back to the library expecting the worst, but Lucian continued to be friendly, likable even. He entertained her by reading to her as promised. He talked to her about their days in the Dark Army and shared stories about himself as a child growing up in one of the great cities of the north. She found out that he had a sister, whom he clearly adored, and he seemed a bit more human in her eyes – though she did wonder if he was simply skilled at manipulation and told her these things because he knew they would cast him in a better light.

  She tried to keep these suspicions in the forefront of her mind though in truth she found Lucian fascinating. To hear an account of the north from someone who’d actually spent time there captivated her as few subjects could. They even shared a midday meal and, when she finally stood to leave, she realised that she’d enjoyed the time she’d spent with him.

  The next two days passed in the same fashion. She would wake, break her fast and go to find him in the library. He didn’t ask her anything about herself, thankfully, but they spoke about many subjects, and she found herself telling him things she’d never spoken about to anyone; dreams of freedom, growing up in loneliness. Never anything that would give her away, of course, but he listened to her and spoke with her as if she were his equal.

  She realised since the frequent visits by the other Brothers and now these days with Lucian how much she had missed the camaraderie of others since being taken from the Temple. She had considered the other novices friends and was ashamed that she hadn’t really thought about them since she’d been gone. Had they all passed the trials? Were they all dressed in their robes of black now as Priests of the Mount?

  Surprisingly, she felt neither sadness nor anger when she thought about what had happened. She hadn’t really wanted to be a priest. It had just been a convenient way to evade Blackhale and hide from her father. In truth, it seemed much easier to understand herself in terms of what she didn’t want rather than what she did. She’d never thought about it properly past typical childish imaginings, because it had done no good to dwell on things that could not be. And now she was in the same position, with no way of fulfilling her hopes and dreams after all that she had done to escape her home and the unwanted future her father and Blackhale would have thrust her into. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. The gods really did have a sense of humour.

  One morning, a few days after she’d begun taking her days in the library, Lucian wasn’t there, and she found herself foolishly disappointed. She moved around the room slowly and more than a little despondently, checking for obstacles with a toe out in front of her. Lucian had been putting away a few books each day, and the floor was now mostly clear bar one or two haphazard towers he hadn’t yet got to. He said he’d been meaning to clear them away for weeks, but she had a tiny, daft suspicion that he had done it for her so that she could move about the library without tripping over.

  Her foot brushed against something hard and she frowned. There wasn’t usually furniture in this part of the room. She felt for it with her hand and found a curved wooden frame with what felt like taut cords in between. It couldn’t be! She knelt down, her heart beginning to beat faster in her chest, and reached out to pluck one of the strings. A musical tone wafted through the air and an unwelcome sob bubbled up from her throat.

  A harp.

  She angled it up reverently and ran her fingers over it. Lucian must have found it while he was tidying. One or two of the strings had snapped and the others were badly out of tune, but it seemed to be in remarkably good condition considering it had probably been left in a corner to rot for some time.

  She began to slowly adjust the thin metal batons that held the strings that were left, listening for the note each one was meant to make and being very gentle lest she break any more of them. She marvelled that she could remember how each one should sound. When it was done, she hesitated, however.

  She hadn’t played since she was a child. What if it had been too long? But she began to pluck the strings, unable to stop her fingers from settling into a rhythm. Unbidden, a calm, melodic song began to take shape; one she recollected from her practice so long ago. She played it hesitantly at first, but as she began to recall the many afternoons she’d spent learning with the master at her father’s command, her movements became assured. It was like being wrapped up in a warm blanket on a cold day. The joy she’d felt when she’d played as a girl began to worm its way back into her being.

  This same joy had, ironically, made her father forbid her from playing even after the countless lessons he’d paid for. It had been her own fault for not hiding her love of it better. Once he had known he could use it against her, he’d taken pleasure in doing so.

  It was around that time that she had realised that her sire had no regard for her at all. She had been eight or nine winters. How odd that playing this instrument should make her think of that time, when she hadn’t since she was a child.

  Her fingers faltered and she let them come to rest on the strings. Her cheeks were wet, but she couldn’t rightly say if it was the sublime feeling that came from playing or remembering the sadness she’d f
elt upon realising that her father didn’t love her, never had, and, most probably, never would.

  ‘Don’t stop on our account.’

  She jumped at the sudden intrusion and scrambled to her feet, wiping the evidence of her tears away quickly before turning to meet Mace and whomever was with him.

  ‘Apologies,’ came Lucian’s refined voice, suddenly much colder towards her than it had been recently. ‘We didn’t mean to frighten you.’

  ‘You didn’t,’ she replied smoothly, relieved that her voice didn’t waver. ‘I just didn’t hear that Mace and Kade had returned.’

  ‘We only just rode in. You play very well.’

  Was that distrust in Mace’s voice?

  She fumbled for a believable lie. ‘Thank you,’ she said without a trace of modesty. ‘My mistress had me learn so that I could play for her.’

  ‘Did she?’

  Kora could practically see their eyes narrowing in suspicion. ‘Yes. She was quite frail. She could no longer play herself.’

  They were both silent. They didn’t believe her. She braced her mind for more questions, but none came. Instead both men sat at the large table, leaving her standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she murmured. ‘I’ll leave you to your discussion.’

  ‘Play for us,’ Lucian said quietly, his tone making her wince.

  It was a command and, though she couldn’t see his face, she knew that if she could, he’d have that tell-tale look in his eye. He was angry with her and he was reminding her of her place.

  Suppressing a shiver, she wondered if things would go back to how they were before. Would he begin to play his merciless games with her again now? She suddenly felt very much like crying anew. But she picked up the small harp and felt her way to one of the chairs by the hearth. She sat on the edge and placed the instrument on her knee.

  ‘What would you have me play, my lord?’ she acquiesced.

  ‘Anything that comes to mind,’ he said airily. ‘But quietly so we can hear each other speak.’

  She gritted her teeth at his renewed disdain and began to play another tune she remembered, a melancholy ballad, though she didn’t have a fine voice to sing the words. She focused on the music, forgetting the men were there at all as her fingers fluttered around the strings and the gentle cascade of sound flowed softly through the room.

  When the song finished, Lucian and Mace weren’t speaking, and she had a prickling feeling that both sets of eyes were still on her.

  ‘Your mistress must have had a deep love of the harp,’ Mace commented dryly.

  ‘She did,’ Kora agreed, standing slowly, though she wanted nothing more than to bolt for the door. ‘I’m feeling tired. I think I’ll go back to my chamber.’

  ‘Join us at the table. I’ll get you some water while we wait for Kade.’

  ‘I really don’t – ’

  Someone grasped her elbow firmly. ‘It’s time we had a talk.’

  She pulled away from Mace, angry that he’d been able to sneak up on her so easily. She’d thought her senses had become more attuned, but if they could move so stealthily … She trembled. They could approach at any time and she’d never know it.

  She walked to the table without his help and plonked herself down in one of the chairs. ‘What about?’ she asked, hoping she sounded more unconcerned than she felt.

  ‘You.’

  The door to the library opened and closed. Someone had joined them.

  ‘Starting without me?’ Kade’s deep baritone voice filled the room.

  ‘Davas will be here soon as well,’ Lucian said. ‘He is very good at wheedling out truths, you know. This is your chance to tell us yourself. Is there nothing you’d like to say before he comes, Kora?’

  She shrugged and feigned ignorance. ‘What about?’

  ‘The lies you’ve been feeding us since Mace brought you to the keep,’ he replied casually.

  Her hands twisted in her lap as she tried to calm her nerves.

  ‘Lies?’ she asked inanely.

  Directly in front of her, Mace sighed. ‘Tell us, girl. We know – ’

  Suddenly the bell in the yard began to ring.

  The door burst open. ‘They’re raiding the village again,’ one of the men from the yard puffed.

  No one said another word to her, and Kora stayed where she was as she heard the chairs sliding on the stone floor and then the footsteps of the men leaving. When the room was silent, she let out the breath she’d been holding and stood, meaning to escape to her room. At least this talking-to would be delayed. She wasn’t sure what to do. She supposed she’d have to tell them the truth – or at the very least a close version of it.

  ‘This is far from finished,’ hissed a voice right next to her.

  She gasped at the sound, a hand flying to her chest as she took two quick steps back.

  ‘Gods! I thought you’d all gone.’

  ‘I’m in no state for battle,’ Lucian growled. ‘Use your head, Kora.’ He grasped her wrist firmly and pulled her roughly back into his sphere.

  ‘I know you’re angry with me,’ she began.

  ‘Yes,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘After the past few days I thought we’d begun to understand each other, but I was mistaken.’

  She fought, pulling away from him as she twisted in his grasp.

  ‘Yes, fight me. Struggle. I love your resistance. I’d be no good in a battle with my Brothers, but I’m well equipped for one in here with you.’

  Her unseeing eyes widened. What was he going to do to her?

  He pulled her to him, chest to chest, and grasped her plaited hair as he pulled her head to one side to expose her neck. He licked where her throat met her shoulder as she tried to push him away with a cry. Then his mouth was on hers, hot and hard. Punishing. Then, all at once, he gentled, his tongue moving past her lips and mingling with hers. She whimpered, but found her fingers curling into his collar and pulling him towards her instead of trying to escape him.

  And then she smelled it, that very faint scent of mint and lavender. She pushed him away, mouth dropping open and arms going limp in shock. How had she never noticed it before? She’d never been so close to him, she realised – not since that first day she’d arrived. That’s where she knew it from.

  Sensing the change in her, he eased away slowly as if he expected a ruse to make him lower his guard.

  She inhaled deeply through her nose. There was no denying it.

  ‘You,’ she whispered in disbelief. ‘It’s been you.’

  He was silent.

  ‘You’ve come to my chamber every night.’

  ‘Your girlish notions of romance are pathetic,’ he sneered with a growl.

  Inwardly she recoiled, but she knew he was just being cruel because she had found him out.

  She drew herself up and felt his hands fall away from her. ‘Say what you will. But we both know the truth.’

  Suddenly he grabbed her throat and, though it took her by surprise, she didn’t give him the satisfaction of flinching.

  ‘If I’d come to your room I’d have fucked you,’ he said crassly, but she could hear a note in his voice that hadn’t been there before. Fear. He didn’t want her to know that he’d held her close and kept the nightmares at bay every night since the day on the hill.

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ she said to him, the hardness in her voice surprising her.

  He let her go abruptly and she heard the door. He’d fled. Terrifying, callous Lucian had run away from her. She sighed, shaking her head in confusion. How could he go from horrible to friendly – more than friendly if he truly had been in her chambers every night – to so utterly awful again?

  Trembling slightly from the confrontation, she went back to her room and lay on her bed, closing her eyes. It must only be about midmorning, but she felt completely drained.

  She slept. She didn’t know for how long, but when she opened her eyes there was something in her vision. Things were mostly still black, bu
t she could make out shapes in the room, she was sure. Was she imagining it? Heart hammering, she blinked a few times and rubbed her eyes. They were still there! She could see where the casement was. The sun was flooding in and she could see where it began. She could just make out the end of the bed and the table in the corner with the jug on it. After days and days of darkness, she could see! A sound of glee bubbled up from her throat. She tried to rein in her budding excitement. This might not mean anything. It might not get better than this. But it was something!

  MACE

  Mace, Kade and their men rode back into the keep long after night had fallen. Mace was in a foul mood. For days they’d been traipsing around the forest trying to find the thieves that plagued the locals. Then, almost the moment they were back in the walls of the keep, the bastards had struck again.

  After another day of hunting them, they had somehow lost the raiders and then, to heap rot upon ruin, when they returned to the village they found that livestock and other supplies had been taken since. The first attack for lesser foodstuffs had just been a diversion. Someone was playing with them.

  He jumped from his horse and strode into the keep, noticing out of the corner of his eye Kade entering the smithy. He was clearly as enraged as Mace if he was choosing fire and metal over his comfortable chamber close to Kora.

  Mace went straight to the hot spring, peeled off his dirty clothes and threw them in a pile on the floor. He all but jumped into the pool, sighing as the waters enveloped his road-weary body.

  He closed his eyes as he thought of the afternoon’s events. The marauders were now executing their raids with precision. They knew where the village’s supplies were kept, how long it would take for the Brothers to get there and how to evade them. Someone was watching. Maybe even a villager. So far they’d only taken food, textiles and livestock, but this was the south. It was only a matter of time before they got greedy and turned their sights to slaves. Of that he had no doubt. The prettiest youths were usually taken first. They’d be sold. Like Kora had been.