The Darkest Torment
Page 107

 Gena Showalter

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A standard she would normally support. “I told you. I’m a vegetarian. I don’t mind working for my food, as long as it’s food I can eat.”
“You can eat what I provided, you simply prefer not to. What you don’t yet understand is this. You don’t have to like the tasks I give you, lass, but you must do them.”
“I would rather starve to death.”
He shook his head. “That will never be an option for you.”
“But—”
“You’ll do as you’re told, or you’ll suffer.”
William would never threaten her this way. He wouldn’t force the issue, ever. He would provide for her—fruits, nuts, even twigs if that was all he could find—no questions asked. She’d gone from the ultimate pampered life—and a man who valued her—to this, a laborious life with a man who couldn’t care less about her.
Biggest. Mistake. Ever.
“You would hurt me?” she asked through chattering teeth.
His answer was a succinct, “Yes.”
She backed away from the hot spring. “I’ll hate you.”
“And as you’ve probably figured out, I won’t be bothered by it.”
Fear gave way to anger and incredulity, and she balled her fists. He couldn’t...he wouldn’t...
Actually, he could and he would. “I want to go home.”
“I’m your home.”
“I want to go to my old home.”
“No. You’ll go to mine.”
And find herself surrounded by others of his kind? “We don’t have to live together.”
“We do.”
Argh! He never backed down. About anything!
Clearly, she’d handled the situation the wrong way. Besides, this was a poor start to their marriage. She remembered her mom and biological dad. They’d loved each other. They’d complemented each other and sweetly touched each other. They’d worked together and the rare times they’d fought, they’d compromised.
“Fine. I’ll gather twigs and search for berries and—”
“Twigs are for fire and there are no berries in this realm.”
Her brow furrowed. “What did the rabbits eat, then?”
“They aren’t rabbits, lass.”
Won’t ask. Probably best not to know. Find a new way to reach him. “Your situation has changed. Shouldn’t you change your rules, too?”
Puck thought for a moment. He waved his fingers at her and though she had no desire to close the distance, she did just that. He patted the stone ledge, and she sat, her legs crossed. With slow, careful movements, he removed her boots and socks. She flinched at first contact and couldn’t bring herself to relax, not until he dipped her bare feet into the hot, bubbling water.
Her eyes closed as the suds caressed her skin and massaged sore, tired muscles. She couldn’t not enjoy it.
“Why do you not eat meat?” he asked. “Meat makes you strong.”
Why not tell him the truth? “When I was younger, my stepbrothers would whisper to me at the dinner table. If we had hamburgers, they would ask how long I thought the cow had screamed before it died? If we had chicken, they would ask if I imagined its chicks crying for their momma?” She shuddered.
He stroked his chin. “You are far more damaged than I realized.”
Most people probably would have taken offense, but she knew what she was and knew he spoke true. She was damaged. “I know,” she said and sighed. “Maybe we could...bargain? If you’ll find me something to eat—besides animals!—I’ll do my best to make you feel an emotion.”
Compromise, the only way to build a bridge between them.
He pursed his lips. “You’ll do your best anyway.”
She flicked water at him. “Is that something you can force me to do?”
“No.” The word lashed like a whip.
Well, well. Look at me. Already making him angry. “Then this deal is the only way to guarantee my cooperation. And then, after I make you feel, you’ll take me home—to the home of my choosing.” She remembered what William had once said about him and his desire for vengeance. “And you won’t hurt Torin. Ever.”
Motion clipped, he spread her legs and moved between them. Again, she tensed. The position was suggestive. Too suggestive. Far too suggestive. She placed her hands on his chest to push him away, but he merely flattened his own atop hers and held firm.
“How will you make me feel emotion?” he asked.
Can’t think like this. “I—I’ll tell you jokes and sad stories.”
He gave a single shake of his head. “Others have tried the same and failed.”
“Had those others ever made you feel anything previously?”
“No.” A grudging admission.
“Then I already have an advantage.”
His gaze dropped to her legs. “What if I want to feel something other than happy or sad?”
Her mouth dried in an instant. “I don’t... I can’t...”
“How else will you do it?” he asked. To distract her?
Really, really can’t think right now. “You’ll just have to wait and see.” As will I.
“If you fail, will you try what I suggest?”
Those suggestions would be sexual, wouldn’t they? The look in his eye...
Just have to make sure I don’t fail. “Yes,” she croaked. “I will.”
“Very well.” He nodded, releasing her and moving to the other side of the spring. “I won’t force you to eat meat. And you...when we reach my homeland, you will make me feel something...one way or another.”
30
“If you hope to defeat me, you’re going to need a bigger pair of balls. Would you like to borrow a pair from my case?”
—Thane, Sent One
IN HIS BEDROOM, Baden stripped himself, then stripped Katarina. He tossed their soiled garments into the unlit hearth, planning to burn them later and scatter the ashes.
“Wait!” She rushed to the clothes and dug through the pile. A moment of insanity? Understandable, considering everything that had transpired today.
She stood, radiating relief, and strode to the bed, where she straightened the pillows.
“The bed is fine as is.” He picked her up and carried her into the bathroom...placed her in the shower stall. Hot water sprayed and steam thickened the air. He climbed in behind her to wash the blood from her, still rocked to the core that she’d cried today.