by Raven Dark
“Maybe that’s the problem. You might not have had such an overblown hero complex if he’d tanned your hide more often.”
However badly I wanted to remind him I wasn’t a hero and didn’t fancy myself one, I wisely kept my mouth shut.
“Utar.” Marna’s voice hissed from inside their hollow as we passed. I looked over and saw her shape disappear into the shadows there. “If you don’t stop this, I will. Look.”
“Marna, no. We can’t.”
“Why? Are you just going to let these people treat their women like that?”
“Marna. Hush.” But his voice lacked force, like a master who no longer enjoyed his station. “No matter how we may feel about it, we cannot interfere with the way others live. We will not interfere.”
“So that’s how it is? So much for us changing our own ways.”
“Marna!” he almost snapped. “I’m not speaking as a master. I am still the General. This is their way. We must trust that their General knows how to run his crew…”
We passed out of earshot before I could catch the rest of what he’d said.
Unsure what to make of what I’d heard, I looked up at Sheriff. His eyes twinkled, and his grip on my nape tightened a little.
Back at the fire, Pretty Boy, Crash, and T-Man still sat talking. T-Man’s brows rose when he saw the branch in my hand, and a knowing smile curved his handsome mouth. Pretty Boy grinned with a satisfaction that made my stomach flutter. Crash’s face turned red as a tomato, and he coughed into his fist.
Sheriff led me by the leash to a log, slipped his end of it onto his wrist, and took the branch from me. He took a blanket from a pile near the fire and laid it on the ground beside his feet. “Sit.”
The fact that he wasn’t about to bend me over just yet did nothing to ease my panic. I lowered myself onto to the blanket. The soft fur warmed my backside, while the fire drove away the shivers that raced along my bare skin.
Sheriff wedged the long branch between his knees and took a switchblade from inside his cut. He flicked open the knife. The blade lanced out, flashing in the night before he began cutting off the smaller twigs attached to the main branch, one at a time.
“What do you say, slave?” He nodded to the blanket under me. “I could have left you sitting that bare ass in the dirt instead of on a nice warm blanket.”
I shook myself, having been too busy watching what he was doing to realize I hadn’t spoken.
“Thank you for the blanket, Master.”
“Better.” He broke off a three-foot length of the branch and tossed the rest away.
While the General shaved off the rough bark in long, deft strokes, I distracted myself with drying my still-damp hair. My hair had always been thick, reaching almost to my backside, and it usually took a long time to dry without help. Kneeling, I bent over and rubbed the raven-dyed locks between my fingers, working my way from my scalp down to the tips. The light from the fire cast the fading dye with a dark, reddish glow. A lot more of the dye would have to wash out before those red streaks faded to purple and revealed what I was. I likely wouldn’t need to dye it again before we reached Delta, six days away.
Back in the Grotto, Cherry and I had often combed each other’s hair after bathing. Suddenly I missed her terribly. I missed the way she called me Violet, I missed her sometimes caustic humor. And I wouldn’t have admitted it to him under threat, but some treacherous part of me missed the way she grumbled about Sheriff and his harsh punishments.
Doc came out of the tree where Steel still was recovering, and I had to stop myself from going to him. He walked over and handed me a vial of eye drops and a tin cup of tea that steamed with the faint hint of iris root. Of course. I’d nearly forgotten both of those.
“Thank you, sir.” I put the vial of drops on the ground next to me and let the heated steel of the mug warm my hands. I took a sip and looked up at him. “Doc, how is he?”
Pretty Boy leaned toward Doc at my words, concern knitting his pale brows.
Doc seated himself beside Pretty Boy and clapped my blond master on the shoulder. While he talked, I finished my tea, then squeezed the eye drops into my eyes.
“Steel’s stable. There’s no change in his condition, but at least he’s not getting worse. I’ve been working on figuring out why he hasn’t woken up yet. I’ll find the answer. Trax is looking after him for now.” He sipped from a cup of what smelled like coffee. His steely grey eyes looked tired, his face drawn.
A mix of worry and relief at Steel’s prognosis washed over me. I felt Sheriff’s eyes on me and my stomach squirmed.
“Where are Diamond and Emmy?” Sheriff asked, shaving off the last strip of bark and now smoothing out the length of the branch.
“Diamond is asleep.” Doc nodded to his tree. “Emmy’s with her. I’ll wake them when it’s time.”
When it’s time? Time for what?
“How is Emmy, Doc?” I asked.
“She’s doing better now that she’s had some sleep and a good meal. She’s got a hell of a goose egg on her head; one of those fucking Dreg overseers must have really clocked her before you guys showed up. But otherwise, she’s fine.”
Knowing Emmy would be fine didn’t quiet the shame that tightened my throat. The whole situation was so confusing. I wanted to find solace in knowing I’d done what should have felt like the right thing. Knowing that Emmy, not to mention all of Utar’s people, would still be caged in that camp had I not done what I did. But knowing that I’d nearly lost one of my beloved masters, that I could have lost all them, made whatever good came from my actions a hollow victory.
The group fell silent while Sheriff continued to shave the branch down to a smooth rod that now resembled a weapon every woman was familiar with.
“I love watching him do this,” Pretty Boy said, his eyes flashing with delight as they flicked from the switch to me and back again.
Resisting the urge to glare at him, I focused on Sheriff instead, watching him work. There was something both unnerving yet oddly comforting about seeing him prepare the instrument of my penance with such care. It was as if he found pleasure, not just in the discipline itself, but in every aspect of it, even the preparation.
I also had the sinking feeling he was dragging this out.
“Now, that’s better.” He pocketed the knife and bent the branch slightly, testing its pliability. Then he slapped the end of it into his palm with a sharp crack.
The sound made me jump.
“Nervous, slave?” He set the branch across his knees.
My shoulders shook. There was no point lying to him. “Yes, Master.”
“You should be.” He reached into his pocket and drew out a pair of black, fingerless gloves and slipped them on, wriggling his fingers into them. Those gloves he usually used for riding, but I knew he wasn’t wearing them for that now. He nodded to the others. “Pretty Boy, T-Man, one of you go get Hawk and ask one of Utar’s men to take his place on watch.” He stood up and tugged me to my feet by that infernal leash. “Doc, wake Diamond and Emmy. It’s time. Come on, Crash.”
The words sank in, right to my marrow as Doc and T-Man went to carry out Sheriff’s orders. This was it. I gulped.
“Wait.” Crash stood, leaning on his cane and looked between the higher Legion members. “General, you want me to be a part of this, too?”
Sheriff nodded.
“What were you expecting, kid?” Doc shrugged. “You’re a full member now. Her mistake put you in as much danger as the rest of us.”
“You’re not getting squeamish on me now, are you, boy?” Sheriff said. “If you are, you can stand back and watch how a real man handles things.”
A grin split his youthful face. “I’m good, General.” He drew a deep breath and made himself look at me before his face became a mask of readiness. “Let’s go.”
A thick, dense dread threaded its way into my veins as I realized what was happening.
No. No, no, he couldn’t. “Master…” I looked at Sheriff p
leadingly before I could stop myself.
Sheriff raised a brow at me. Daring me to challenge him. Daring me to try and get out of letting everyone see what he did to me. “Is there a problem?”
Anything I said would only show him my fear. Besides, I had to make this right. I bowed my head. “No, Master. Are we doing this in front of Utar’s men, too?”
“No. This is club business, sweetheart. Legion members only.”
Some of the tension drained out of me. At least only the men I knew and considered a family of sorts would be there to watch my humiliation unfold.
Then Sheriff stepped close to me, trapping my chin with his fingers. “And by the way. The others won’t be there just to watch. I have something much better planned than that.”
Chapter 5
Three For Seven
If I thought it was embarrassing enough to have all six of the Dark Legion men watch what was about to happen, I had no doubt Sheriff had some way to make what was coming a whole more humiliating.
It hurt my heart to realize there should have been seven men present. I had no idea if things would have been any easier with Steel involved—in fact, I was reasonably sure they wouldn’t have been. I’d endangered him most of all, and easy-going though he might be, I’d seen his rough side before. He’d promised to marry me one day, but his loyalty to the club, and to Sheriff, was paramount. He wouldn’t have pulled any punches here.
For a heartbeat that seemed to stretch forever, Sheriff stood there watching my expression, his eyes trapping mine as much as his grip on my chin did. Was he waiting for me to try to plead my way out of what was coming?
I dropped my shoulders, offering up no resistance and willed my features to remain compliant and unafraid. I wouldn’t show him weakness. I needed to be strong. I could handle this. Besides, he was my master; I had to trust that he wouldn’t take this too far.
Whatever he saw in me must have been enough, because he released me. While Hawk returned with T-Man, and Diamond and Emmy followed Doc over to the rest of us, Sheriff went into one of the nearest trees and took a torch from inside, already lit.
“Let’s get down to business,” he said.
With the others following, he led me away from the fire and across the camp, leaving me trailing behind him on that leash. Diamond and Emmy momentarily fell in step with me.
“You can handle this, Setora,” Diamond said quietly in my ear, setting her hand on my shoulder. “Public discipline scenes like this are rare for the Legion, but they do happen. Sheriff’s an old hand at this. He knows what he’s doing.”
I held my clenching belly and made myself nod, drawing strength from her reassurance. I had to trust Sheriff. I had to trust all them.
On my other side, Emmy said nothing. She kept her head down, her long, straight hair hiding too much of her face for me to tell what she might be thinking. She reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze, a quick gesture that nonetheless boosted my teetering resolve.
How badly I wanted to tell her I was glad she was alright, but I didn’t dare with Sheriff only a few paces ahead of us and the others close behind. I settled for squeezing her hand back, hard.
I didn’t miss the implications of Diamond’s words. Scenarios in which women were publicly disciplined were rare within the Dark Legion because their women seldom went against club rules.
Despair slashed a deep cut across my heart. I’d fought so hard to become part of this family, to prove myself worthy of them. Was that all lost now?
We didn’t go far. The group stopped in a small clearing, close enough to the campsite that I could still see the fire in the distance, flickering through the trees. The voices of the Rebels reached my ears, occasional laughter ringing out, laughter that mocked my growing unease.
The group formed a line about eight feet in front of me. Doc beckoned Diamond close to his side, and Emmy went to stand near her, her hair a curtain that hid her face. The switch still in his hand, Sheriff went over to a tree and put the torch in a hole on the side of its trunk. The flames cast the thickly canopied space in enough light to easily see by. He returned to my side, where I stood facing the others, the switch clasped in both gloved hands.
“So, here’s how it’s going to be. First.” He turned to me. “Setora, tell all of us why we are here.”
Oh Maker, take me. Now that I thought about it, I should have expected him to do this. I’d seen enough public discipline scenes to know how they worked, most of them cases where slaves were trotted out and tied to whipping posts, backs bared for the lashing. Before punishment, slaves always had to announce to everyone present what they’d done. It added to the humiliation. But seeing something like this play out and actually being subjected to it were two very different things.
Shame seared the back of my throat like acid. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my breathing. As soon I as opened my eyes and looked at each of the men present, I wished I hadn’t.
Hawk stood with his hands clasped behind his back, the picture of Yantu poise, his stoic face offering nothing. T-Man put out his pipe and stowed it in his cut before copying Hawk’s stance. His eyes looked determined, like he might have looked if he were marching a prisoner to the gallows. Doc stood by a silent Crash, holding Diamond by the shoulder. Though his expression was professional, I had the feeling he was gripping his woman just hard enough to prevent her from interfering. Pretty Boy alone wore a wicked smile. Excitement pounded off him, and he rocked on his heels. I didn’t know what I found worse, the lack of reassurance from the others, or Pretty Boy’s open revelry.
I put both out of my mind and looked straight ahead. “We… We are here because I went against orders. I chose to play hero, and I put everyone in danger.”
Sheriff moved in behind me, close enough that the heat of his body hammered into me. “And what orders did you disobey, slave?”
I closed my eyes and inhaled. “I was supposed to save Emmy. Instead, I tried to save everyone else, too. My mistake nearly got everyone killed.” My voice broke as the impact of my own words slammed into me. “And…and now Steel is hurt because of me.”
Sheriff walked slowly around me and nodded. “What else?”
“Pardon, Master?” So much had happened that night, I wasn’t sure what he was talking about.
“Disobeying my direct orders wasn’t the only mistake you made,” Sheriff said coldly. “What else did you do?”
I shook my head, not understanding.
“Saketh,” he gritted out. “What did you say to Saketh?”
Oh. That.
“I offered myself to Saketh in exchange for his letting everyone else go. Master, I—”
He looked around at the others while Diamond, Doc, and Crash murmured, glancing at each other. They hadn’t been in the Dreg camp for that. My stomach tightened.
Sheriff turned his eyes back to me. “And why did you do this?”
I blinked at him, my brain scrambling for a way to explain without telling them something I was far from ready for all of them to know.
“I…Master... Ever since the first Dreg attack, Steel hasn’t been the same.”
Sheriff cocked his head, waiting for me to elaborate. My heartbeat filled my throat, and I resisted the urge to look around at the others, especially Pretty Boy.
My voice shook when I spoke again. “Knowing that Steel was going to fight Saketh’s men, I had to do something. I had this…feeling…that something was wrong with him, and I couldn’t let him...”
Sheriff raised a mocking brow. “A feeling.”
I huffed. “Yes. A feeling. That he was going to die. I couldn’t let that happen.”
Sheriff said nothing, and for a moment all we did was stare at each other. I forced my shoulders to square, to not look away.
“Master,” I said slowly, “I felt like.” I paused, choosing my words carefully. “Like something horrible was going to happen. At the time, I thought it was only a feeling. But when he made that deal to fight Saketh’s men to free us, I was ter
rified the feeling was…something more.”
This time, the General cocked his head at me. Some of the anger in his eyes cooled, and I could see him trying to work out the implications in his head.
“Offering myself to Saketh was the only way I could save Steel from a fight I feared might kill him.”
Near him, Doc’s mouth made an “Oh.” I could see his mind putting the pieces together. My blood, the buzzing feeling I got when I sensed the minds of other Violets, and now talk of premonitions—they were all connected, even if he didn’t fully understand how.
Beside him, Pretty Boy’s delighted look vanished, and I watched something war within him, something that seemed to be trying to weigh what I’d done for his Brother against my disobeying his General and his club. Hawk gave me one of those contemplative looks that, for anyone else, would have been as good as a wide-eyed stare. Diamond’s eyes were round as saucers. Because of what I’d done in the Dreg camp, or what I’d just said? It could have been either.
Right then, with the way everyone was looking at me, I was glad I hadn’t told anyone about the dream. I looked at Sheriff. The slow nod he gave told me he understood. He understood, just as he had in the Grotto when I’d told him that I’d sensed Madi’san’s mind.
“Well. That’s something we can discuss at a later time.” He tightened his grip on the switch, as though trying to remind himself that my words didn’t change what must be done. “As noble as your intentions were, slave—and as much as I am glad Steel will mend—nothing, I repeat, nothing, gives a slave the right to freely offer up to another man what belongs to her masters alone.”
I dropped my arms. “I know, Master.”
“Besides,” he added, looking at the others before he put his focus back on me, “Saving Steel doesn’t explain why you tried to save everyone else, even after I expressly told you not to. You wanted to save Steel’s life, but saving his life wouldn’t have become necessary if you had stuck with the plan and only went after Emmy.”
“I know, Master. But I had no choice—"