I go to the doorway and snap my fingers. "Here, dog."
"You can't call it dog," she says. "We have to give it a name."
This is getting too comfortable.
"Shepherd," I say to the dog, christening it. Nothing cute for this one. "His breed and his role. He'll shepherd our door. These dogs are natural watch dogs. He's young, but he can be trained."
"It's your specialty," she says, then she groans to herself as if she knows already, she's spoken out of turn again.
"Isn't it, though?" I say, giving her a look that makes her squirm on the bed. Biting her lip, she shrinks and tucks her knees to her chest, with the headboard at her back.
Everything in here is new. The bed is a four-poster like I've requested. Sturdy enough to handle restraints and whatever else I'll choose to do.
Taya wasn't interested in such things, but now—I cringe inwardly. I can't think of Taya, not now.
I want the dog clean and the girl managed so she doesn't get into mischief.
I pat my leg for the dog to follow and he does, trotting to the bathroom by my side.
"Stay there, Olena," I call out over my shoulder. I give a quick glance around the cabin. The door is locked with a deadbolt, the windows shut tight and fastened. It looks so different in here, so barren and simple. We should be safe here, for now.
I draw a bath and let the water run.
"Lay down," I tell the dog sternly, pointing to the floor. He obeys, while I fetch a bottle of shampoo from the kitchen and take a towel out. I give him a quick but effective bath, noting the worn pads of his paws and mud caked thick on his coat. He's come a distance. I wonder how long he's been here. When he ate last. When I massage the mud out of his coat, he whines with appreciation, licking my hand in thanks.
"You're a good boy," I tell him. "Will you keep her safe here?"
It's ironic how important her safety is to me, but I don't fight it.
I know what I need to do.
I need a few more days with her, teaching her her place so that she doesn't pose a threat. So that she complies, and I can draw out Yuri's surrender, or the battle between our rivals. Whichever he chooses.
Once Shepherd is clean, I lead him out of the bath and pat him dry, then go into Olena. She's sitting up in bed, her legs crossed beneath her.
"Aw, you're all clean now, little guy," she says, patting the bed. Shepherd pulls out of my grasp and jumps on the bed.
"No," I order, snapping my fingers and grabbing the dog by the scruff of the neck. I tug him back to the floor and lead him into the main living room. I point to a corner of the room and order him to lie down. He whines but lies down and places his head on his paws. Returning to the room, I give her a stern look. "No animals on the bed. Do not allow him on here again."
Frowning, she shrugs. "Alright, then."
"Do you think we're playing here?" I ask, stalking to the bed with my arms anchored on my hips. "What about this situation prompts you to behave like this? So carefree? Do you not fully understand what we're doing here?"
"I do," she says, squirming when I get so close I can smell her essence, the faintest scent of roses. I reach for her wrist and tug her so she's kneeling, her pulse beating rapidly against my thumb.
"You do?" I ask. "And yet I don't read submission in your eyes. I don't hear fear in your tone. You seem comfortable and dare I say, unconcerned?"
Her pretty eyes flash at me, but she clenches her jaw and doesn't respond.
"Maybe you'll remember my expectations when you take your punishment," I suggest. "Now that we're settled, you may remove your clothing and remember your place."
I release her, lift her out of the bed, and plant her on the floor in front of me. "Strip."
"Yes, sir," she tosses back at me with narrowed eyes. She silently seethes while she strips out of her clothing, tearing her outfit off and whipping everything onto the floor before she kicks it aside. Once more, she resembles an angry little fairy, thin and willowy but fueled with fiery willfulness. I could overpower her, or I could humiliate her.
Or I could do both.
Once she stands in front of me naked and angry, her hands anchored on her hips and her eyes meeting mine with bold challenge, I casually issue a command while I sit on the bed and cross one ankle over my knee.
"On your knees."
She drops to the floor, her eyes narrowing, her lips pressed into a thin line.