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hazel eyes a dark shade of green that seemed to closer match those in the odd little cat’s head pendant at her throat. “You’re going to put me out, at night, in the dark?”
    He released a sigh and let a matter-of-fact gruffness color his voice. “Sorry, princess, but if I don’t, I’ll take your virginity, and then what?”
    “Well—”
    He didn’t give her a chance to answer. “I’ll   tell   you what. You’ll end up back at that fortress and when it’s discovered your virginity is gone, you’ll tell them who did it.  And then I’ll be dead.”
    She shook her head vehemently, the high braid swishing in back. “I won’t, I swear it. And I told you—I don’t intend to end up back at the fortress or ever even   near anyone royal again.”

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    Carnal Sacrifice
    He narrowed his gaze on her, doubtful. She sounded earnest, but she remained such an innocent—full of bravado, and he knew she had no idea how to survive outside the fortress walls. “And just where do you intend to go?”
    She drew in a deep breath, eyes worried. “This all came up rather suddenly, as I explained, so I’m not sure. But…” She let out a tired sigh. “Couldn’t I just stay here? I promise I won’t be any trouble. I could…serve ale like Sima and Janya.”
    Garon tilted his head and released a dry chuckle, then replied with an edge in his voice to make sure she heard him, to make sure she understood the reality of existence in the village compared to life in her safe, sugar-coated fortress. “Princess, in case you haven’t noticed, Sima and Janya serve more than ale. They enjoy their work, granted, but they get paid for what they like to do best, which is fuck. I don’t need a tavern maid who just serves ale.” With that, he turned to stalk away, to finally leave her there, as he should have done long before now.
    But Ares help him, he couldn’t do it. Just couldn’t.
    He wanted her too fervently, the need burning low in his belly, a sensation so desperate he couldn’t quite understand it.
    Because she was a virgin? No—it had to be more than that. It was because she was beautiful and ripe and fresh, at once hotter than the sun that blistered Myrtell’s beaches in summer and sweeter than honey straight from the hive.
    He’d obviously lost his mind, and his chest burned with anger at himself, and at her—for coming into his tavern and his life so unexpectedly, and seemingly stealing away his sanity.
    Without thinking it through—for there   was   no thinking it through—he looked back and spoke brusquely. “Get this straight. If I do this, if I fuck you, you’re   mine . For as long as I want you to be. You’re my slave, princess, in every way. What I say, you do. If  I want you to serve ale, you serve ale. If I tell you to suck my cock, you suck it. Do you understand?”
    For the first real time since they’d met, she looked a little frightened, as well she should. He   wanted   to scare her, wanted her to know there was a price to be paid for what she asked of him. Yet, even so, she never wavered as she answered, “Yes.”
    Making a slave of her was the only way Garon could turn this acceptable in his mind. She was too sweet, too exciting, and something about her made his heart feel stretched and twisted in his chest. If ever he was going to care about a woman again, this was   not   the one. So if he was going to fuck her, he was also going to   use   her. He was going to treat her like the sex toy she clearly wanted to be for him, and she’d likely be a damn good one. And if he   treated   her like a slave…well then, that was all she would   be to him—nothing more.
    “All right then,” he said, deep and husky, glad the candles were burning a little lower than when he’d first come in the room, for he wanted the small chamber to feel as dark as this arrangement he’d just made with her, as dark as it felt in his soul. “Get ready, princess,” he whispered. “Get ready,