The Commander makes his way to you. His request is absurd.
“I will do no such thing!” You bare your teeth as he narrows the space between you.
Your eyes flash with outrage and anger but mostly fear. “I will not bathe in front of you, Commander,” you say.
He is silent as he glares down at you. He lifts your left hand, slipping the shackle off your wrist quickly. Again, you notice how he takes care not to touch your bare skin.
“Fair enough,” he says.
You yell as he grabs hold of you, tossing you over his shoulder as if you weigh nothing.
“Put me down, elven scum!” you yell, your legs kicking out. He grips them tightly against his body so you’re immobile. You pound against his broad, muscled back that tapers to a slim waist.
“I will put you down, y/n,” he says, plunging you into the icy cold bath, fully clothed.
You scream, and your entire body tightens up instinctively.
But as you sit in the barrel, the water sloshes against your nose and cheeks.
And to your great surprise, it is delectably warm.
Oh…
He leans down, close to your face now.
Your pulse flutters wildly.
And you are shocked by all of it. From the warmth of the water to the tiny tendrils of steam curling up all around you. And his beautiful face is so close to yours.
Him.
His green eyes sync with yours.
“You should take this opportunity while you can. You have a long journey ahead of you.”
Your eyes widen in your head. His words sink in, and fear grips you.
“Where are you taking me? I’m not going anywhere with you,” your voice quakes with fear.
His green gaze settles on you. His striking eyes are studying your face with great interest.
“To Sherinde,” he says. “Your new home.”
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