Rough by Sara Fields (ereader iphone txt) 📕

wondering if he was going to kill me, just leave me here to die, or allow me to live to see another day. I could read nothing into those beguiling irises and the longer he stared at me, the more I had to remind myself not to tremble under his ire. I stayed strong and refused to give in, and when he finally turned away and pulled the dagger away from my throat, I had to swallow a sigh of relief for fear it would give me away.

The Acolyte stepped forward next. The Recruiter just watched, not saying anything at all.

The three of them felt powerful, but there was no question that both men answered to the Prophet. He was the one in charge here. The Acolyte cleared his throat.

“I have been informed that you asked to be set free into the wilds in exchange for your assistance,” he began.

“Yes. I just want to be released from captivity. First Czar and now Magnar, there is nothing more important to me than my freedom. I want out,” I whispered vehemently.

“I think I’m going to have you be the one to slip the poison into his cup,” he murmured, and I lifted my chin at the challenge.

“Will it make him suffer?” I asked.

He chuckled and cocked his head. He knew I meant the king. We both did.

“Would you back out if he did?” the Acolyte asked.

“Not even in the slightest. If it did, I might be even more willing to offer my services,” I smirked, and he tittered with amusement.

“That’s the kind of passion I like to hear,” he answered. Even though his face was hidden behind the mask, I could tell he was smiling by the way the corners of his eyes crinkled harshly.

“I am satisfied with her answers. The Recruiter and I will take our leave. Do what you will to make sure that she’s telling the truth, Acolyte,” the Prophet declared.

My panicked heartbeat quickened just a tiny bit.

“What will you have me do?” I asked the three of them. The Acolyte was still just staring at me and it was making me incredibly uneasy. He didn’t notice the way my muscles were tensing. For a long moment, my mark seared red-hot and I had to grit my teeth in order to bear it.

“When the time comes, we will tell you,” the Prophet answered for the others. He didn’t say anything more as he turned and left the room, effectively ending the conversation before I was ready for him to.

The Acolyte moved in front of me and I stiffened, seeing those brown eyes zero in entirely on me. They were chilling in their intensity.

I really didn’t like that.

“I still think you’re hiding something and I’m going to be the one to pull it out of you,” he muttered dangerously and that’s what I noticed that the Prophet’s dagger had exchanged hands. The Acolyte angled it so that the edge began to tear through my dress, and I braced myself for what came next.

He had the knife now and we were all alone.

I had a feeling this was about to go really poorly for me.

Pinned to the wall, I couldn’t do much else other than stand on my toes to relieve the terrible ache in my wrists. I couldn’t arch away as he sliced through my clothing. I trembled as he pushed the fabric aside, revealing my naked belly and then my breasts. I didn’t like the way he stared at me like a piece of meat after that.

I started to feel nauseous.

My nipples hardened in the gentle breeze.

He slid the dagger in between my breasts, leaving a small welt behind. It wasn’t enough to cut me, but it still hurt all the same. With one hand, he reached for me and I pressed my back against the wall, trying to arch away from him as much as I could.

“I’ve got nothing to hide,” I snarled.

“So you say. I still don’t know if I believe you,” he answered. Unexpectedly, he reached for my right wrist and slid the key into the lock. It opened with a clank and as one side of me was freed, I yelped as the muscles in my right arm roared back to life. The blood rushed to my fingers and my arm tingled before it began to prickle with hard flashes of pain. I shook it out as much as I could and looked at him through narrowed eyes. He didn’t reach for my left wrist. Instead, he just watched me as I teetered back and forth, off balance and unsure of what terrible dangers were to come.

He made quick work of the remains of my dress, tossing it to the floor in tatters when he was through. He pulled the knife away from my skin and I visibly relaxed.

But not for long.

He growled.

I doubled over and cried out, searing agony cutting through my core.

His sound simply incited pain. It did not invoke desire like it did with Magnar. This was different. This was cruelty.

“You see, Ariana, I don’t need to slice open your flesh to hurt you. You’re an omega. I’m an alpha. You are bound by nature to answer to me,” he snarled.

“But I am marked by another,” I retorted.

“That only makes it worse for you. All I need to do is make a single sound over and over to torment you. This is what happens when an omega is separated from her alpha and finds herself in the captivity of another,” he said, his voice gruff and incredibly arrogant.

“I’ve done nothing to deserve this,” I snarled.

I needed to defend myself. I tried to curl my left hand inward, making it as small as possible so that I might slip it out through the metal cuff. I was able to slide it out just a little bit, but I couldn’t get it all the way. I needed leverage and I couldn’t do it with him watching me like this.

The Acolyte growled again, and I