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Cassandra isn't just beautiful. She's otherwordly and somewhat threatening. She makes my entire body go alert, aching, and I don't fucking know why. It's not like I can go after the boss and ask him what this inside me is. He was never the fatherly type, even though he's the one vaguely mentor figure I have ever had.

I tell myself I just want to look at her. Just need a moment to soak into the sight of her, and try to understand what this thing happening inside me is. It's not a good thing. The squeezing of my heart makes me dread death, but I've been locked up my entire life. I can't drop dead now without ever enjoying anything. Even if the boss allowed me to roam freely around the Little Palace, it’s only so I can do tasks for him. I’m a slave, and a slave with nowhere to go. Not after what happened to my family because of me.

Cassandra said she was separated from her group. I wish I could help her, but my lungs are locked up, and my heart beats too fast. I don't know what to say. Don't know how I could make her feel better. She is, after all, locked in the Little Palace for the rest of her life unless someone buys her, and from what I gathered, that is not a better fate.

For a moment there, I thought she would talk and I would listen. I hoped for it, I clung to the possibility. Then things changed, and she tilted her head, exposing the creamy length of her neck and I could only think of tasting her. My mouth watered, and I pictured myself breaking open the cage — even when I'm well aware it’s impossible to physically break the wards — and... And doing what? It's not like I've ever done this, not like I've ever had contact with females, except the guards who sneer at me, the other slaves who keep to themselves.

Still, I would love to lick a stripe up her neck, just to know how she tastes.

My penis pulsed, pulsed with need, and Cassandra did the unthinkable, giving me the display of a lifetime. I thought my brain was about to explode. I had to run. She couldn't see the filthiness I was about to plaster all over my pants, the one pair of pants I own. The boss would be so mad if he learned I messed them up because I couldn't control myself.

I eat up the distance between the Ménagerie and the servant quarters, keeping to the hidden corridors and the places I'm allowed in. Stuffing both hands in my pockets, I hunch over myself, looking down and bunching my shoulders in, trying to disappear into the peeling wall paint. The other servants do the same, and I hope no one catches the obscene volume in my pants. Even the time it takes to reach my tiny, dark room isn't enough to make it go away.

The second I close the door behind me, I push my sweatpants down and curl my fingers around the hardness jutting out of me. It twitches against the warmth of my palm, and I swear I taste disappointment in the back of my throat. I have no experience, but I can only think of Cassandra, and imagine Cassandra's hands and lips on me. It's to that image that I move my fist, hissing to the bittersweet pleasure that shoots across my body, centering on my testicles. It doesn't take long. Curses, it takes no time at all for me to burst onto the ground, painting it with my sperm.

I heave, pressing my eyelids shut until I have control over myself once more. My heart still hammers inside my chest as I turn the lights on and find some toilet paper to clean the mayhem. How pathetic is this? This need for someone I don't even know, a woman I have only seen as she was dragged into a cell, then as she slept. I feel wretched, but I know I'm going after her again as soon as I can.

The bell next to the door rings, almost giving me a heart attack. I jump back to my feet, race my hands down my clothes and turn the lights off before I race back to the main area of the Little Palace. Curses, I was supposed to be close by. The boss told me to linger around because he would need me, and the fact he had to call into my room means he tried to find me and couldn't. My body tenses with the anticipation of punishment. That's always how it works with him. It doesn't matter I'm a bigger man. Size doesn't matter in a place like this.

I pick up my pace. I don't want to add another scar to the collection down my back.

As quiet as a shadow, I cross the back door into his office. The boss sits behind his immense, black marble desk, ankles crossed over it. A man I do not know paces in front of the desk, his voice raised even when my boss' face betrays no worry. His brows raise when he meets my eyes. I bow immediately.

"Where in the Seven Realms were you, Tristan?" The boss waves the question off as soon as it's past his lips. "Doesn't matter. We'll see about that later. Kayn here is taking the last guest room upstairs. Take him."

Kayn slams both hands on the desk. I tense, expecting the boss to discipline him. The man leans forward, baring his teeth in a smile so cruel it sends a shiver down my spine. The two stand off for another moment and the pressure in the room increases. They're measuring power. I step closer to the back door. I've seen people measuring power with the boss, and it never ends well. He always wins.

"You are going to sell her to me," the newcomer hisses, his voice thick, full of command. He must be someone important, but everyone the boss deals with is. "I was after her first when you poked your hideous nose in."

The boss laughs. I hate it when he laughs. "You left your weaklings to do the job for you." He clicks his tongue in mock disapproval. "Didn't you know? You should never leave the others to do your job. It's never good enough." These are words the boss lives by. He does everything with his own hands, even the nastiest part of the business.

"She's mine," the other roars, and I see fangs glinting under the light from the position I'm in. A vampire. Bet he's an old one. My heart thunders in my chest, no matter how hard I force myself to stay composed. Old vampires are more in control of their hunger than the newer ones, but they're also crueler. He could rip my throat out, and the boss wouldn't mind all that much. He'd perhaps send him the tab for eating a servant.

The boss leans forward too. "She's mine, Kayn. She's in my cage, within my wards. You know how it works. Wait for the auction, and bid your price."

Kayn growls in threat, but my boss has been threatened so many times before it does nothing. "She’s just property to you. You have no idea what she can do. No idea how she can change this world. If you dare to sell the Shadow Mage to anyone but me, I'll drink from your soiled blood before I go after her, Underworld filth." And he whirls around and leaves through the main door, not even glancing in my direction. I chase after him, finding him guarded by two other men before I lead them upstairs.

It’s only after I left him in his room that the exchanged words settle. The Shadow Mage. I heard the boss talking about the Shadow Mage right before he left to come back with Cassandra. Is that what she is? Someone who can control shadows? Whatever powers she has, it won't be of use inside the wards. She might use them if I could break her out of the cell, but how? I'm big and strong, and that's that. Useless when it comes to magic.

I curse as I make my way back to the office. The boss will want to see me, and stalling his punishments always makes it worse. Tonight, I don’t care. Cassandra is the only thing on my mind. She's going to be auctioned off tomorrow, but I can't allow her to be taken. Whatever this is inside me, it makes me want to protect her. To keep her from pain and evil. But if there's one thing I learned living here my entire life is that there's no escaping.

No one gets in or out without my boss' permission, and trying to save her might just get me killed.

CHAPTER 5

CASSANDRA

The eyes staring at me make me nauseous even if I haven't eaten in a day. My stomach rumbles, but I ignore it the best I can, even with the food that's been served. A girl with slick black hair brought it earlier, but she ignored my questions when I tried to chat. Her empty eyes told me she’s been here for too long. The hole she pushed the tray in is straight out of a prison, and the reality I'm being kept and then sold off hurts more than the fear of starvation.

I woke to the weirdest sight of my life, and hell, I thought I had seen strange shit. People amble up and down the hallway, eyes on me. Staring and chatting, studying and discussing. I'm the new, exotic animal in this freaky zoo, and the rich have come to get a glimpse of me. Glittering clothes that stink of money, humanoids of all sorts, champagne glasses locked between their fingers, the occasional bag of blood among them. I see the fangs of vampires, and people with horns and wings. Some are beautiful, others make me curl against the corner of the cage, my hands locked in fists between my thighs to keep them from seeing I'm trembling.

All of them, the beautiful, the ugly, even the gentle-looking, they're all a threat. They look at me like I'm merchandise because that's what I am. Something to be bought and sold. An item, a particularly rare one. Caught in a trap like a wild thing, dragged into a cage, fed through a hole. My heart sinks inside my chest, and I keep biting the inside of my cheek until it bleeds.

I need a way out, but which one? Throughout the night, I tried every corner of the cell to find it's perfectly sealed. Pushing and punching make no difference. The others at the cells around look at me with what I swear is pity, even when some of them don't have real eyes. I'm sure they've been where I am. Everyone tries to run. Everyone wants to escape. But this Collector guy seems to be way ahead of us, aware of every single weakness, ready to pounce at the right opportunity.

He's powerful. Smart, rich. Probably old. And he will sell me off to the highest bidder.

I lean forward, peering at the corridor, searching for a certain head full of dark, lush curls, and those pair of red eyes that bring the rawest of fears to my stomach. Was that a dream? Did Kayn really stare at me like I was prey yesterday evening, or was it all in my head? He did disappear lightning fast. But then, he's also an ancient vampire, and they can probably do that.


Tags: Taylor Fox Paranormal