PLEASE NOTE: This chapter has themes of abuse and violence against women. These issues may be traumatic to some readers.
I don't move. I'm plotting my next move. The enemy King's hand caresses my sore throat.
“That's a good girl.” He murmurs and I want to snap that I'm not a dog. The thought makes me think of Ward, and I can't help the pang of longing that resounds within my heart and soul. The King's hand grazes the side of my breast and I stiffen, biting back a snarl. He gives my breast a squeeze and leers. His hand travels further down across my belly to the fork in my thighs, and I let my bladder have its way. The King curses and jumps back.
“Son of a-” He snarls. I just grin ferally at him. He raises his hand as if to backhand me, then looks at my nose and seems to think better o
