❝Why do you not reject me?❞ She demanded.
His dark gaze drunk in the sight of her. He licked his lips and met her eyes. A shiver ran down her spine. Heat pooled between her thighs. He sniffed the air, pupils dilating until nothing but a ring of gre...
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"Useless. Absolutely useless."
Rhea stood, head down and jaw clenched. "I'm sorry. Forgive me, Mistress."
Rhea Willow Delaney, prized jewel of the Wildflower. Her fiery red locks and stormy grey eyes held such beauty that put even the noble daughters of the aristocrats to shame.
Rhea was Wildflower's secret weapon - a doe eyed, soft spoken damsel by day and a deadly, fear inducing assassin by night. The blood in her hands stained as darkly as the luscious locks that framed her face.
"Forgive you? You just cost me an indefinite loss. That mutt you just gave up to the Blood Knights earned me good money." Ursula hissed. The tip of her cane pointed close, very close to Rhea's eye. But she didn't dare flinch.
Ursula, owner of the infamous brothel - Wildflower - and Rhea. Though Rhea preferred the word captor. She was treated just as any slave worker in the kingdom would be.
Rhea wanted to yell back that the mutt had a name and wasn't just a money bag Ursula could milk dry. But Rhea had no such freedom. So she stood silent.
"And what have you done to your arm?" Ursula's eyes flashed in disgust.
Rhea winced and tried to hide the angry red puncture marks that were slowly beginning to heal. Dried blood grazed her arm elbow down. Ursula walked toward her and Rhea immediately sunk behind until her back hit the wooden desk in the parlor. Ursula snatched her arm closer to inspect the damage. Rhea bit her lip to distract herself from the pain.
When she was done, Ursula looked Rhea in the eye. Her dark beady eyes bore into her like thorns. "This better not leave a scar. Your pretty face and unblemished body are the only two factors putting food on your table. Remember that."
"Yes, Mistress." Rhea replied quietly. She tried to keep her gaze steady.
Ursula stared at her without a word for couple more seconds. And then she rapped her cane on the mosaic floor and nodded toward the desk. Rhea had hoped that she would be left to return to her room unscathed. False hope has always been her weakness.
