Rhys didn’t feel sorry for her. She wasn’t the first woman who had been taken by the bikers. Most ended up enjoying the life; those that didn’t learned to keep their misery to themselves.
He showered, cleaning off Layla’s scent from his body.
It had taken him two years after Deenahad been murdered to be with another woman. He had been drunk at the time, giving in to his body’s demands, fucking a woman he had picked up in a bar. After he had finished, he had vomited on the floor beside the bed. She had taken off and Rhys couldn’t blame her; he had been a fucked-up mess. Three years later, he still was.
When Rhysfinished, he dried himself off before going back to his room, not bothering to cover himself. She was sitting on the edge of his bed, her dark brown eyes widening when she saw him naked.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to touch you,” he said, getting into his bed.
“I wasn’t afraid you would. From what that other man said, I’m taking it I’m being saved until Saturday.”
Rhys yawned, seeing no reason not to tell her the truth; she would find out soon anyway.
“Once a month, we divvy up the spoils. That way it’s fair and no one gets pissed off enough to kill each other over something they want.”
“It doesn’t botheryou I’m not willing?”
Rhys didn’t avoid her condemning gaze.“No. I won’t be participating. You won’t be the first or last woman they’ve stolen, either. What were you doing in this neighborhood?”
“I was lost.” She turned her gaze away from him. “I was trying to find my way back home.”
Rhys settled back against his pillow. “Well, you found it. Welcome home. If you need to take a piss, go ahead. If not, turn out the light. I’m tired.”
She stood upbefore going to the bathroom and coming back, turning out the light. Then she lay down on top of the covers next to him.
“You better get some sleep. One of the women will come and get you in the morning to put you to work,” Rhys advised. “Keep your mouth closed and do what they say, and you’ll be all right. Most of the brothers won’t drag their asses out of bed until late afternoon. By then, I’ll be around.”
“I’m not worried about them, I can handle myself.” Her voice was filled with confidence in the dark room.
“If you believe that, you’re stupid. These men aren’t eagle scouts, and Adam barely controls Tank—stay away from him unless you’re ready to fuck him.” Rhys gave her the only warning he was going to about Tank. She could take it or not; he really didn’t give a shit.
“I’ll stay away from him.”
Rhys didn’t believe her, but sometimes the new bitches had to learn the hard way, and he had a sick feeling in his stomach that Broni was just that type of woman.
Chapter 2
Broni lay on the bed, trying not to tremble. She wanted to roll over and beat the shit out of Rhys for letting his life deteriorate to this level. She didn’t like it, but she wasn’t surprised his soul had sought to hide from the pain this life had dealt him.
From the first moment of seeing him when she was a young girl, Rhys had captured her attention.This wasn’t his first life—he had first caught her attention when he had been a Viking. His bravery and courage had become legendary. She had been there to observe a battle to make sure the Vikings had lost, but the beauty of the warrior had distracted her until it was almost too late. She had barely been able to accomplish her goal in time.
After that, whenever she managed to slip away from her mother’s watchful eyes, she had observed him throughout his various lives. His soul had been easy to find, especially with Zerina as her confidant. He was always a warrior, each lifetime his bravery was spoken of in awe by others. Even the Gods had begun to whisper about his bravery, which was not always a good thing. Jealousy of his exploits had become a bone of contention, and it was only his loyalty to the Gods that had saved him.
Times changed, though, and wars became fewer. Eventually, the world had no need of a barbaric warrior. He had become civilized, learning to fight with his mind instead of that glorious body.
He’d become even more formidable when educated, learning to use his mind instead of his brawn, becoming tame. In this time, he had allowed himself to love, something he had never permitted himself before. It had broken her heart to watch him fall in love.
The womanwas everything that Broni was not—petite and curvy, femininity pouring from her. Broni had stopped sneaking away as often to watch him; it had been too painful. She was unable to bear seeing him with his new family.
It wasn’t jealously or envy, just pain at seeing him so happy and in love, knowing how it would end for him. With each child, her heart grew heavier. When their time came, Broni had done everything in her power to aid their passing.
Afterward, Cara had cometo her room, crawling into bed with her as they shed tears of sorrow for the beautiful family. Broni and Cara often comforted themselves after difficult battles, drawing strength from the other. Zerina would always know when her sisters needed comforting and would find them huddling together and then join them. Hugging each other close, giving support when needed, developed a bond that had held them together for centuries. Broni desperately needed her sisters now as she watched Rhys completely ignore her, turning his head away from her then going to sleep with a conscience that refused to feel any need to help her.
The deaths of his family had changed Rhys into onethat no longer cared about right or wrong. She was going to have to realize the man he was in this life was different. She had to learn how to deal with the life he had enmeshed himself into. She had no choice if she wanted to stay alive.
* * *
The next morning, there was a knock on the door.