The Unfortunates(5)
It seems I filled my own head with fairy-tales between the camp and here. Please don’t let this become my home. We’re told the Sarios are the most brutal, the most unsympathetic, hard to handle family out of them all. If that’s true, I might just entertain the idea of suicide if I’m chosen to live here.
I feel the other girls line up behind me, but I don’t dare look over my shoulder in fear of betraying my own emotions. I hear the heavy lock of the door shift and my teeth chatter together once, twice, three times before I clench my jaw to stop it. The doors pull open and my eyes immediately fall onto the Unfortunates that hold the large, brass handles. They avoid making eye-contact with us and it puts me on edge. I eye their nice crisp, white tunics. I have to admit, they look healthy. They look well-fed and looked after, and for a brief moment, I wonder if the Sarios are as bad as everyone makes out… I peel my gaze from the Unfortunates and onto the wide, marble staircase in front of me. A man—an important looking man—leans against one of its elegant rails.
“You’ve outdone yourself this time, Soyer.” He stalks down a few steps, reminding me nothing of the brave lion on the door and more of a sly wolf. “They’re all gorgeous.”
Behind me, I hear a whimper. Whoever it is, they need to get their emotions in check before they’re swiftly dealt with. Don’t stand out and get a job in the kitchen. That’s my plan.
“How many do you need, Michael? I thought I’d let you have first choice.”
Michael rubs the palm of his hand over his stomach like he’s contemplating his next meal… definitely a wolf. “Two, I need two. If it was for me, I’d pick the redhead…”
His dark, grey eyes flick over us one by one until his eyes settle on me. Painful tendrils of dread burrow in my chest. Don’t look at me, I urge him. Don’t pick me! His slimy gaze slides down the length of my body and I grit my teeth against a scowl.
“My son, however, prefers—” Michael’s eyes flit to my breasts and I almost cringe. “Darker haired girls.”
He descends the last few steps. The next few strides swallow the distance between us and places him right in my face. My heart races, pounding relentlessly in my ears. “Tell me, Unfortunate, do you know how to please a man?”
I swallow hard and shake my head. None of us do—at least I think none of us do. “No, sir.”
How humiliating. I don’t want to be called out in front of everyone. He eyes the brunette next to me and I almost sag in relief, until his stare drops to her chest before returning disinterestedly to her face.
“You’ll do just fine for Master Kade,” he says to me. My heart stops cold as tears sting my eyes. “You’ll make him happy, I’m sure.”
“It’s his twenty-fifth birthday already?” Soyer wonders aloud.
Michael nods. “It’s gone quickly. I’ll take this one—” His swollen, warm fingers grip my shoulder and he pulls me into him. My stomach sinks and I bite my tongue against a cringe. I go with it, not daring to fight against him—not when Soyer has his index finger rested casually against the trigger of his rifle. He flicks a lock of my hair over my shoulder to read the number behind my ear. “Nine.” My skin crawls at my name falling from his lips. “Yes, you’ll be the perfect first Unfortunate for him—you’ll satisfy all of his needs.”
First slave? All of his needs? The words ring through my mind and panic threatens to sink in and take over. No, that can’t be right. I told him, I told him I’ve never ‘pleased’ anyone before—hell, I’ve never pleased myself before. First slaves are the direct right hand to a Fortunate. They handle most errands, attend most parties, and handle any request from their Fortunate, both in and out of the bedroom. No other Fortunate can tell a first slave what to do unless given permission from the owning Fortunate. My sinking stomach tightens as I recall my training… reciting it like a text book.
“Don’t worry, slave.” Soyer chuckles, bringing my quivering bottom lip to attention. I purse my lips. “Master Kade is quite the leader. I’m sure he’ll show you exactly what he likes.”
Michael mumbles his agreement and releases me, pushing me to the side. I almost sink to the ground. I can handle dishes, clothes, and dusting, but sex? Pleasure? I wouldn’t know where to start and when to finish. I force myself to stand still and strong with my hands behind my back, like I was taught, and I think I manage to conceal my inner distress.
“I’ll take the blonde, too.”
I glance at Thirteen from underneath my brow. She’s shaking—her entire body trembling as she bites her lip to prevent herself from crying. Poor girl. She did everything she could to not get picked.