“Wash and wait for me in my tent, naked and on your knees.”
River’s pulse beats thickly in her veins as she paces back and forth in Hadrius’ tent. His clear voice, like ice-melted streams and tinged fury, echoes over and over in her mind until her skin swells with anticipation.
He had saved her, but not for amiable reasons. No, he probably wanted one last f**k, and then he would dispose of her body in the forest. She had not been a fool, for she considered all possible situations whilst strapped to the uncomfortable saddle, one of them being her death. Yet, she had not expected him to dispose of her so quickly- so early. It left no time for her to assemble the threads of a proper escape plan.
River pauses and edges towards the tent’s entrance. She lifts the flap and cautiously peers out
