The elder Castle clears his throat. “I have the authority to override you, Mr. Monroe. Liam will take the lashes with honor.” Liam’s father pauses, shooting Pax a pointed look. “But the queen will not be punished for my son’s crime.”
“You can’t dictate how I run the House of Libra.”
Mr. Castle glares at Pax. “When it pertains to this summons, I have final authority on the matter. If you go against my order and punish the queen for something of which she had no control, you’ll be the next member of the Brotherhood to lose auction privileges. Is that clear?”
“Crystal.” The monster’s voice is too smug, and I don’t doubt for a second that he’ll slither his way around until he finds a loophole big enough to crawl through. “Considering how I found them naked in bed together, I want her checked for an intact hymen.”
“I didn’t take her virginity.” Liam’s attention falls on me. “You can ask her if you don’t believe me, but I wanted to make her my wife first.”
“He’s telling the truth.” I clear my throat. “He could have forced me, but he didn’t.”
“Your word isn’t enough for me.” Pax waves a hand around the room. “I’m sure the Brotherhood would like reassurance as well.”
Sebastian jumps up, the swift movement toppling his chair over. “I won’t enable this bullshit anymore.” His scruffy jawline is carved from granite, and though he won’t bring his gaze to mine, I know the exact hue of those eyes when he takes that tone—like the turbulent sea at dusk. He dips his chin, and the softening of his voice gives me a glimmer of hope. “We’ve put her through enough already.”
“I agree with Sebastian,” my brother says, standing to join his friend in a show of support. “There’s no need to put the queen through another examination. She’s given us no reason to believe she’d lie about this.”
“This coming from the man who swore up and down my informant had the wrong island.” Pax scoffs at Landon. “If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect you had something to do with this kidnapping plot.”
Landon’s attention veers to me for a second, so fleeting I nearly miss it. “Don’t be ridiculous. I was away from the island when Castle took her. I simply prefer to believe we have a modicum of decency left in the Brotherhood. There’s no need to debase the queen further.”
“Differences of opinion, my brother.” Rising, Pax yanks me to my feet. “I’ve already lost enough time. Anyone not wanting to witness this is free to leave.” Without warning, he picks me up and sets me on the table. “Dr. Morgan, your expert assistance is required, unless you’d rather I do it myself.”
Gentle apology comes off Vance as he slides my panties down my legs. His temperament is the exact opposite of Sebastian, who storms from the room the instant the doctor begins the exam. I’m not sure what bothers me more—the violation going on between my legs, or the stomps of an irate lion growing distant down the hall.
11
Libra is supposed to be the house of justice, the balance of right and wrong, the juxtapose of harsh and merciful. For Pax Monroe, justice means vengeance, wrong is right, and mercy is launched out the window under the weight of his sadistic characteristics.
The House of Libra is deviance incarnate with accents of pain.
Black sofas square off the living area from the kitchen and eat-in bar, and the standard floor-to-ceiling windows draw the eye toward the sea—until the dark gray wall opposite steals the focus with its display of leather crops and paddles. It’s the artwork of a sadist.
The rest of the living space is clean and contemporary in feel, with white shag rugs in front of the couches and bouquets of slate roses on top of glass side tables. Pax seems out of place here, his dark attire and slicked-back hair more suitable to the dungeon.
Still reeling from the last twenty-four hours, I almost miss the figure kneeling in the corner of the great room. Pax snaps his fingers, and the brunette springs into motion, crawling to him on all fours, her gaze on the marble floor. Short dark hair reaches her chin in a sleek and severe fashion. A leather collar circles her throat—the same type Pax wanted to buckle around my neck before Liam drugged him. Other than that collar, she’s not wearing a thing.
“Welcome home, Master.”
Pax bends, tipping her chin, and I’m taken aback by a pair of exotic green eyes. “This is Frieda,” he says, turning to face me as he tightens his grip. “She’s my slave, and since the chancellor kept you from your duty here this month, you won’t get the chance to earn your place above her. When I’m not around, you will obey her.”
Upon my silence, he lifts a brow. “I’m assuming you still remember your training from the House of Taurus?”
“Yes.”
“You will call me Master.”
Only a few days left.
I can get through this, and considering the humiliation of the medical exam not even an hour ago, the fact that he hasn’t beat me or done some other unimaginable thing is a good sign.
Or maybe I’m deluding myself. Maybe my head’s still spinning, trying to catch up to the lightning-speed change of living in paradise with Liam to becoming this man’s slave for the next few days.
He snaps his fingers in front of my face. “Address me, my queen, before I show you what a real punishment is.”
“I’m sorry, Master,” I say, giving him the response he wants.
He turns his attention back to Frieda. “Get up.” Still gripping her chin, he doesn’t let go until she rises. “I have a training session in the dungeon today, so I’m putting the queen in your hands until I get back. Have her readied in two hours.”
“Of course, Master.”
“Do a good job, and I’ll reward you.” He turns on his heel and exits, the front door slamming in his wake.
That’s when his slave trains those startling eyes on me. “You’re a fucking disaster,” she says, her lip curling in contempt.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Her soundless footsteps take her in a circle around me. “Your hair’s a tangled mess, your skin’s washed out, and that dress belongs in the damn trash.”
“Does your master know you have the mouth of a sailor?”
She laughs. “Of course he does. He punishes me for it all the time.”
I can’t relate to the excitement in her voice—as if she likes it when he punishes her.
“Take off your clothes,” she orders.
My first instinct is to argue with her, but I bite back my indignation and strip. The two of us stand naked in the monster’s living room—his slave and slave-in-training.
Only a few more days.
Those five words will be my mantra until I set foot in the library.
Freida nods toward the floor. “That’s where you belong until you’ve earned your place.”
“Am I supposed to call you Master as well?” My sarcasm comes swift, and so does the harsh strike to my face.
“You’ll address me as Mistress. Now get on your knees.”
Stunned speechless, I hold my smarting cheek and dip to the floor.