Escaped (Imprisoned by the Fae 2) - Page 31

Toward me.

My sudden fear has got to be on display for the entire crowd. It’s finally sinking in that this is happening, that I’ve been sold again, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Even if I could, the redcap reacts before I could.

Lowering his voice so that he doesn’t show any kind of weakness in front of the market, he calls out a quick order, directing it at the looming creature standing behind me. “Hold her in place.”

The troll, despite his bulk, is quick. You think I would’ve remembered that. Before I can even process his command, the troll has his rock-like mitts gripping my upper arms. It’s craggy and rough, and I can feel the jagged edges through my jacket.

Between that and the golden chain still keeping me tethered to the redcap, it’s impossible to move.

The cloaked Seelie glides easily up the steps at the side of the platform. He moves like he’s floating,

an elegant dance across the stage as he keeps his attention focused entirely on the little auctioneer. He doesn’t even look at me. It’s almost as if I’m not here.

I shudder, letting out a small yelp of pain when the chain digs a little deeper into my recent cuts.

Still staying hooded, the Seelie’s head jerks in my direction. Oh, yeah. He heard that. From the way the shoulders hidden beneath the cloak snap straight, making him seem even taller—especially compared to the redcap—I… I don’t think he’s very happy.

His voice is as sharp as a knife when he commands, “Take the chain off of her right this instant.”

“Of course, my lord.”

The redcap slithers over to my side, dropping his end of the chain as if eager to distance himself from the fact that he was holding it. I don’t offer my arms out to him since it seems like a bad idea to jostle the chain again. Leaning over, bowing his head, I can’t see what he’s doing but I know the second the chain is gone.

I exhale in relief.

It’s short-lived, though. Before I can lift my hands and rub at the razor-thin cuts wrapping around my wrists, the redcap grabs one, asserting just enough pressure that it’s an obvious warning. If I don’t do what he wants, if I don’t play nice, he can easily snap it right off at the wrist. His fingers are strong enough—and he’s cruel enough—to do it.

I suck in a breath and go still again, even when he lifts my dead arm, holding it so that it’s in front of the cloaked figure.

“Would you like to touch her now? I’m sure you’re eager to place your brand on this delectable human.”

A cheer ripples through the assembled crowd. A yip. A couple of crude laughs, and more than a few comments I wish I could ignore. It’s obvious they know how the touch of a fae can affect a human. Do they expect me to pop open my jeans and fuck him right here? If he pushed it, would I even have the choice?

You have to give him permission, Hel, I remind myself. He can grab my hand all he wants, but so long as the redcap is forcing me to do it, it shouldn’t count.

Is that why the stranger declines? Because he does. With a sharp shake of his head, and a hissed command for the redcap to unhand his prize, he sniffs and purposely avoids my captured fingers. Does he know that he doesn’t have my permission? That, if he grabs me, it’ll hurt him way more than it hurts me?

Maybe. Or maybe it’s the way that the redcap showed off the small cuts on my wrists when he held out my hand.

The Seelie points with one long, slender, noticeably bronze finger at the injury. “She’s bleeding.”

“A small wound,” the red cap dismisses, keeping his voice low. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Is this worth seven hundred gold coins to you?”

The redcap looks up at him slyly. “Depends, my lord. Is it worth seven hundred to you? Because if you’d rather take back your bid, I can place her on the block again and—”

“No. The bargain is made. I’ll take her as she is.”

“Good choice.”

The stranger taps the side of his cloak. I can hear the coins jingling. “Let’s take our business somewhere more private than the center of the market.”

“Of course, my lord.” The redcap tilts his head back, looking over my shoulder at the troll still looming right behind me. “Shale. Bring the human to my tent.”

“Yes, sir,” rumbles the troll a moment before he swoops me up in his arms.

As he lumbers across the stage, toward the stairs, I can sense the hooded stranger following right behind me. I assume the redcap is trailing after him but, when the troll finally sets me back on my feet inside of the same red tent with the cages, the redcap is nowhere to be found.

Tags: Jessica Lynch Imprisoned by the Fae Fantasy
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