Bullied Bride
Page 15
“You did a good job trying to do that at the last feast, if you recall,” I point out, and Rayse nods, wincing slightly.
“I did. I wasn't thinking clearly. I just wanted everything in our house to be normal again. I wanted the Hartsons out, and thought you were weak for being with her. Not my finest moment.”
Pearl hesitantly reached out for the brooch, and he dropped it into her hand. Not quite initiating direct physical contact.
“I don't forgive you for what you did,” I say to him, and he nods again.
“I don't expect you to.”
With that, he leaves us, and we stand there, momentarily befuddled.
“I have no idea what the fuck's going on in his head,” I say. “Feel free to throw that thing away. Blood in a stone? Christ.”
“He's fucked up, that's for sure,” Pearl replies, but tucks the brooch away, rather than discarding it. “I suppose that was almost friendly for him.”
“Don't expect him to suddenly start treating you nicer. He's still an absolute dick,” I grumble, as we make our way to the third floor. Morgan and Danny are guests within the banquet hall, positioned to the right of where Pearl is about to sit. Opposite me and Pearl is her father and that hulk of a guard he owns. We're seated directly below my father, and I notice that the guest list for this banquet has mixed up many clans, so it's not just Claymore and Hartson. There's a few more Graves, some Tielmans, the sour-faced Bonecleaver, Rosewinds, and a few Endmores related to Ethel Endmore, though she's nowhere to be seen.
This is a guest list of people least likely to trigger a conflict, while still having the proper representatives.
Pearl's father comes over to me, eyes shining as he regards his daughter. “You look radiant,” he says. “You're not too bad, either,” he adds to me, and I shake hands with him. He squeezes perhaps a little too tightly, and Pearl's brother watches with keen eyes to make sure nothing more happens.
Today, we're making history. This will be the first Claymore and Hartson feast to be shared together in centuries. Perhaps ever. Even with all the hostility and difficulty of letting go of our hate, I think it's clear to everyone that they are part of something momentous.
We survive the feast, more or less. And it dawns on the Claymore and Hartson vassals that they are able to conduct an entire event without slaughtering one another to pieces. Pearl is happy, too – happy to see the change.
I'm happy as well, but I dislike not knowing where the future leads next. Before it was all mapped out and easy. We knew our place in the world, we knew our enemies. Now that it turns out that our enemies might not remain enemies forever, it's a challenging, almost alarming idea to process. Because how could we be anything but foes?
Though I dislike this fuzzy new future, I'm still willing to stick around and find out what it is.
I'm willing to stand by Pearl's side and love her until the end of days.
VERY SHORTLY AFTER SHE HEALS WE GOING TO HAVE SEXY TIMES.
THEN AFTER THAT, HER FAMILY IS GOING TO VISIT, BUT IT'LL GO WELL. AND WE SEE THAT THEY'RE GOING TO TAKE SOMEONE FROM THE CLAYMORE HOUSEHOLD BACK TO THE HARTSON ONE. MORE SEX. MAYBE DESMOND WILL VISIT HARTSON LANDS?
More By Hollie
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For Sale On Display
Get It Here
I'M THE "UNTOUCHED" GIRL FOR SALE BEHIND THE GLASS.
The pretty trophy in skimpy underwear.
The doll confined to a box of glass.
I can only get out if someone buys me.
I just never expected that person to be my boss.
Embarrassing is an understatement.
I tried to scream and banged my fists on the walls.
But they found it so funny, so cute that I would try to get away.
He wasn't supposed to be here.
I wasn't supposed to get caught.
And I'm hella sure he wasn't supposed to see me in ridiculously revealing, utterly sexy lingerie.
But now he's paid to take me home.
He's paid because I'm untouched.
He's paid for me, and he's paid a lot of money.
My heart skips a beat, and I can't help but wonder...
What is he planning to do to me?
Sold To The Master
Get It Here
I've been a slave for fifteen years.
They took everything I had.
My magic, my family, and my dignity.
Believe it or not, I was once fierce.
But disobeying Master's orders generally results in some pretty brutal punishment.
So I do everything I can to avoid that.
Before the contract, I didn't have to pretend.
But I've lost that somewhere along the way.
Too many years as a slave, passed from one master to the next.
It has all stripped that fierce strength I once had, and exhausted me.
Today, I'll be auctioned to a new Master.
I'm wearing the most uncomfortable clothing.
So tight around my waist.
And If I stand up straight, the material molds around my breasts to give them a large, voluptuous look.
I know Master hopes to get a good price for my skills.
But being a witch doesn't have the perks it used to.
He's displaying my other assets in the hope someone will pay a reasonable price for that, if not for my magic.
As anxiety builds up in my body, I can't help but wonder...
Who is it going to own me next?
Sold To The Prince Of The Meldanians
Get It Here
I WAS JUST WALKING HOME WHEN THIS PSYCHO GRABBED ME, STRIPPED ME, AND THREW ME IN A CAGE...
Great. Now I'm ready to become a dragon's next meal.
Along with my clothes, he also took my wallet and my ID.
Once I'm sold, they will do whatever they want with me.
They will own me.
"Don't worry, girly," -- I hear a voice.
He goes and grabs something from the dresser and walks over to my cage.
"This will only hurt for a second."
"Back off!" -- I scream.
"Come on, it is just a tag."
"The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get you sold."
"You'll bring in a pretty penny, I think."
"With this boyish body, you could please a wide range of clients, even the ones with the greatest appetite."
"You ain't gonna sell me to some nasty beast!" -- I keep screaming.
"I can do whatever I want, sweetheart."
"Whatever I damn. Well. Please."
"You are certainly a little feisty, but that can be a selling point -- for the right buyer, of course,"
"Now, who do you think will be most likely to purchase you?"
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Copyright
© Copyright 2020 by Hollie Hutchins - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
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