The Captain’s Slave part 6

SEVEN

I exit the washroom, expecting to walk into a smear of blood. But the hall is clear.

I find a new guest room and secure the door with a rocking chair. I sit by the window and watch Malik’s silhouette bury Gusto in the distance. Shoveling piles of dirt atop him, just like I had dreamed of many times before.

The difference is that I pictured myself as the one burying my evil slaver. I never dreamed of being saved.

A part of me feels guilty. I’m not sure why. Gusto probably didn’t break into the room to kill me—no, I’m too valuable as his slave for him to kill me. Worst case scenario, he wanted to kidnap me and run away. Start anew elsewhere, away from the deadly Master.

But kidnapping must have been enough of a reason for Malik to kill him. He didn’t want to lose his property.

I rub my face and think back on our intense exchange in the bath. The tub was pink with another man’s blood and yet he wasn’t the priority of my focus. Malik was the focus since I watched him gallop into the territory atop his beast like the last standing warrior of an army.

I’m attuned to him. Captured by a morbid kind of fear. One fueled by attraction to his detrimental nagire.

I’ve always been reckless. My self-destructiveness will get me in trouble as it always does.

— —

The morning comes, and I remain on the floor. Thinking about a name; a new identity. I don’t know why Malik rejected the name I suggested; Joanna. I can’t help but wonder if he already has a Joanna in his life. A lover? A wife?

He might not ever answer these questions. He seems loyal to this mysteriousness.

I sneak into the kitchen early in the morning. When the windows are dotted with the morning dew, the floorboards are cold, and the sun invades the house through every crack and furrow it finds.

I'm careful to not clank utensils together as I cook breakfast. Not sure of Malik’s tastes, I make a protein-fueled salad. I don’t use the cured salty meat in our dwindling storage. I won’t have the strength to go hunting and curing meat this week. Too much has happened and my mind is still spiraling.

It’s odd, not hearing the chatter of my friends. Five would always help me cook breakfast. We would exchange annoyed glances when we heard Gusto approaching the kitchen to devour his meals and throw scraps at us.

I eat a small portion and ensure the table is perfectly set for Malik. Then I wait like a good servant to make any of his requested changes.

Walking him up and asking him to come eat would be absurd. I’ve been trained to never disturb my master.

I wait by the window, searching for signs of my friends who must be long gone by now. I shouldn’t feel sorrow. I should be happy for them. And yet my loneliness makes me selfish.

Distant thudding makes me walk across the room, to the opposite windows. I glance out and find Malik chopping the unfinished pile of logs.

No one got to finish the job when he appeared and wreaked hell upon all of us. He’s incredibly efficient, slicing logs with the dull and rusted axe in a single strike when it would have taken one of us slaves a lot of effort and sweat to get through one.

When he finishes with the logs, he sets the axe down and makes way towards the porch.

I scramble to return to the kitchen and check that his table is set.

He enters the house and approaches me, his dark eyes instantly finding the table.

I find that he’s surprisingly collected for someone that just murdered a man. His clothes are rumpled but snug against his muscled body. His hair wild and curly but effortlessly styled. Even his posture is perfect. There is no hint of stress.

He glances at the table. “What is this?”

“Breakfast?” I reply, so intimidated that I’m unsure of myself although I cooked the damn thing.

He scans my frame. “You eat it, and change out of those rags.”

How can he sound so menacing although he’s offering me kindness? Clothes and food. Dignity for my disheveled and malnourished body.

I would give a year of my life to know what happens in this man’s mind.

“That would be inappropriate. This meal is for you,” I reply.

“I eat meat in every meal”

I feel ashamed, as if I failed him on the first of many meals I’ll have to cook for him. I should have known he’s strictly carnivorous. His very eyes devour every detail about me.

“We’re running low on meat,” I murmur. “But I can go hunting tonight after my chores.”

“You? Hunting?” He snorts.

I’m struck by the sound. He very rarely shows amusement, even if it’s mocking.

“You will not be hunting anything.”

“But Gusto…”

“Gusto is dead,” he interjects, adding power to his voice. “I don’t need a female to hunt anything for me. I provide for my household. Do you understand?”

I nod, feeling silly for even suggesting otherwise. Malik is not the weak, fearful bully that Gusto was.

“Well?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Go on and change out of those clothes.”

“I…don’t have many options.”

A frustrated growl comes from his throat. “Prepare for the market, then. We will restock on supplies, clothes and food.”

“That’s…not a good idea.”

He looks irritated by my hesitation. “It is not your position to question me. I freed you from slavery. You agreed to stay here as my maid in exchange for food and shelter, and you should remain mindful of who your leader is.”

“But the market is no place for me.”

“Says who? If I want you there, then it will fucking happen.”

He’s too confident. Too stubborn to hear me.

“Gusto has a neighbor that has been attempting to purchase me for months. He is aggressive. Gusto forbade me from returning to the market when his neighbor attempted to snatch me.”

Malik closes the distance between us. The hands that just murdered a man fall gently on my shoulders. Blanketing me with warmth.

“Listen closely, as I will not make a habit of repeating myself. I want you at the market, and nothing will stop me. This is a decision you don’t have to question, as I’ll ensure no harm comes to you.”

I trust that he’ll protect me, but I want to avoid any trouble. Of course, it’s not up to me.

Seeing that I’ve come around, Malik squeezes my shoulders. “Good. Now tell me about this neighbor’s land.”

“Why?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Because I intend on taking it off his hands.”

I shake my head. “It has been in his family for generations. He won’t sell it.”

“Everything in this world has a price.”

Even me.

I stayed here so my friends could get a shot at escaping.

“Except you. I will never trade or sell you.”

He thinks I’m… priceless?

I don’t know what comes over me. My self destructive tendencies take over.

I turn my head and lean closer, shrinking the safe and respectful inches that kept us apart.

I press my ear against his chest to listen to his heart beat, wondering if it beats as fast as mine.

Malik’s hands fall to my hips, and they linger there for a couple of fast heartbeats.

My answer is delivered. His heart races just like mine.

With this new information, I step away and walk off as if nothing happened. Leaving a baffled master behind.

READ PART 7>

A/N: Coming Soon

Swapped: An Enemies to Lovers Werewolf Romance

ALPHA THORNE despises his mate. He met her a month ago and she has already shown her greed, her unfaithfulness, and her cruelty. He will never love the evil woman, but keeps her by his side because she cannot be denied her goddess-given title of Luna.

When she gets in an accident, he wishes her dead. Little does he know that the moon goddess heard his prayers and made them come true.

MAEVE is human and dying of terminal cancer. As she draws her final breath, she expects to find peaceful darkness. Instead, she lands in a healthy werewolf’s body. But not just any werewolf. She’s a pack Luna.

Maeve has been given a new chance at life. A healthy body and a wealthy position. But she takes one glance at her leering Alpha and mate who looks ready to tear her apart, and wonders if she was better off dying from cancer.

She wants to run away from the cold man, but she’s in an entirely new continent. With no knowledge of the werewolf world, she’s forced to live with a mate who despises her for unknown reasons.

Maeve’s only option is to try and melt the ice in his heart, but this is proven a challenge because he thinks she’s still the evil woman that once owned Maeve’s body