Frayed Ties (Ties, Book 1) | ✓

Chapter 2

"Hmm. So why are you practically naked, anyway?"

"Hamish." Simon shot his friend a pointed look.

"What? I'm sure you were wondering too."

"I'd rather not know."

"There's no nobility in ignorance, Simon," Hamish scolded playfully.

"If you find any nobility in any of this, you let me know."

Something nudged Danya's elbow, and he reflexively leant away from the touch as he turned to look at the sixty-something year old man who had sat down on his other side. He did not like the feel of this man at all. It reminded him of sticky plant sap that refused to wash off. The slow, sweeping look he gave Danya immediately betrayed the nature of his interest.

"I'll have to thank our hosts for sitting me next to such a handsome young man," the man said with a smile that showed too many teeth.

Danya knew his type. They were the ones who tried to seduce the boys into sneaking off with them for a quick moment at parties, but who were never serious buyers. The way Danya was dressed wouldn't help in this situation. He looked like he was intended to be exactly that kind of entertainment.

Danya gave him a tight smile. "Thank you, sir."

"I used to have a lot of fun when I was younger, but..." His hand found its way onto Danya's thigh and stroked slowly upwards. Danya didn't want the energy coming off of him. "It gets harder to maintain an active social life as you get older, you know?"

Danya tried to discreetly push the man's hand away. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm a Companion."

The man squeezed down on Danya's thigh. "Don't lie to me. You're between me and another man who is not your master, and dressed like that. I know what you are."

"It's the truth!" Danya leant so far back from the man that his shoulder bumped Simon's "Why would I lie?"

"For goodness sake," Simon cut in just as the man leant closer. "Could you please stop groping the slave at the dinner table, regardless of what you think he is or is not?"

The man's face twisted in anger and Danya thought there was about to be a fight, but then the man's hand pulled away from Danya's thigh and he stood. "I'm going to put in a complaint and see what can be done about this. He is lying."

Simon watched the man leave before glancing back at Danya. "I hope you really were telling the truth."

Danya let out a shaky breath as he did his best to shake the lingering aura of the man's energy off. "I was. I apologise for the disruption, sir."

"He raised a good point, though," Hamish cut in. When Simon shot him a glare, he shrugged and explained. "He's dressed like a whore and seated between two men he doesn't belong to. Who is his master?"

Danya cringed at the vulgarity, but it was true. He could hardly blame anyone for mistaking him for a bed slave when his attire had been borrowed from one.

"Ah... Captain Bell, I suppose?" Danya turned in his seat so that they could see the freshly tattooed crest just below his collarbone. "I'm a gift for him."

Simon's expression went hard and flat as he stared at the crest, and Danya knew with a sudden, terrifying certainty that he was looking at his new master. His new master, whose breathing had gone rough and heavy with barely contained anger.

"Oh, shit," Hamish muttered.

"From who?" Simon asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

Danya licked his lips. He wanted to apologise, to ingratiate himself somehow, but he knew there was nothing he could do to change what was about to happen. "The hosts, sir."