Decca grins. “You okay?”
“No,” I repeat, more broken this time.
Molsi pats my shoulder. “That was a lot. You gonna survive?”
“No.”
But I have to. Because in less than an hour, I have to travel with that smug bastard, and I have a feeling I won’t hear the end of this.
I didn’t thinkI could be any more humiliated after Kael overheard me discussing his possible anatomical features.
Ha.
How fucking naïve of me.
“Nuh-uh. No way. You have to be taking the piss.”
Varek somehow manages to keep a straight face, but I can tell—deep in his dark, scheming little soul—he wants to laugh. His lips don’t twitch, but there’s a certain smug glint in his eyes.
At least this time, there’s no audience. No nosy rebels lingering to witness my further descent into disgrace. But, of course, the main offender is here, standing before me like this is a completely normal conversation.
Kael, deadly serious, holds up what can only be described as some kind of bondage harness.
I stare.
He stares back.
I glance at Varek.
Nothing.
Back to Kael.
Still serious.
Then back to the harness.
Leather straps, thick and reinforced with metal buckles. There are loops, padded sections, and a complex webbing design that could belong in a tactical gear store… or the darkest, most hard-core BDSM dungeon.
“You havegotto be fucking kidding me.”
Kael, the bastard, just tilts his head. “It’s standard royal guard equipment. Used to carry wounded?—”
“Oh, okay,” I snap, throwing up my hands. “That’ssomuch better. You’re not planning on slinging me around like a BDSM plaything—you just think I’minjured.”
He sighs. “It’s for efficiency.”
“No, it’s for humiliation.”
Kael remains perfectly neutral, which only makes me more suspicious.
“What, is this payback?” I demand. “For the wholearseholething?”
His expression flickersjustenough to confirm my theory.
“Oh,fuck off,” I groan.
“This isn’t about—” He exhales sharply, visibly recalibrating his approach. “Sonny, we don’t have time for this.”
