Rough, Sara Fields [the top 100 crime novels of all time txt] 📗

“Can I at least finish my mead first?”

“I plan on finishing mine.”

I licked my lips. I hadn’t known the old king had died. He’d still been a figure at the head of the city when I’d allowed myself to be captured by the enemy more than a week ago. This could change things for me.

The two guards continued to murmur about more mundane things and I only half-listened for any relevant information, but I learned nothing more useful from the two buffoons.

Instead, I started looking around me at the women clustered into small groups. Every one of them had the distinctive omega structure. Small, thin, curvy, and beautiful. Some were brunette. There were a number of redheads and several blondes mixed in. I scanned every visible wrist I could see, taking note of the fact that all of them had markings like mine. The Cult had taken blood from all of us.

They were looking for something, likely testing all of us.

The guards cleared their throats. They’d finished their drinks and had since moved to the door of the cage.

“Back from the door. We’re here for only one of you,” the one on the left said.

“You. Blue eyes. Blonde hair,” the other said, and he pointed right at me.

My mouth opened in surprise, but I knew better than to answer. The Cult was a man’s world, and they didn’t expect a woman, especially an omega, to talk back. I stood up bravely and walked a bit shakily to the door of the cage. They turned the key in the latch and the harsh squeal of metal screamed all around us as they opened the door. I started a bit at the sound, but I recovered quickly as they reached forward and grabbed my wrist roughly. I was unable to keep myself quiet as his dirty fingers dug into the bruised flesh of my arm, and he grinned wildly with a deviant sense of pride.

“This one is a prize,” he chuckled, and the man with him stiffened.

“I know,” the other answered.

“What if we just played around with her a bit. No one would know,” he continued.

“Even if you wanted her, you couldn’t afford her, you fucking numbskull. Touch her and sign your own death warrant,” the guard scoffed with annoyance.

“I know. Nice to dream though. I bet her slick will smell real good,” he grunted, and I had to force back a shudder of revulsion.

“Let’s just get her where she needs to be.”

“Where are you taking me?” I ventured bravely, but meekly enough not to pose a challenge.

“You’ll find out soon,” the guard answered, and they whisked me away, naked and barefoot out of the dungeons of Kingsworth.

Hours later, I’d been washed, shaved, and anointed with several different kinds of fragrant oils. My hair had been trimmed and styled carefully. My face had been painted with rouge and powders, giving me a soft glow that I’d never experienced before. By the time the stylists were through with me, I felt like a new woman. My blonde hair shone so brightly that it was nearly white. The colors around my eyes played up my icy blue irises, the ones I’d inherited from my father.

The Ghost. The leader of the Alpha Brotherhood. The man who sent me here to Kingsworth with the sole mission of infiltrating and identifying members of the Cult.

I tried to talk to the servants assisting me, but they shook their heads. I continued trying to ask questions, and one of them finally tapped me on the shoulder. I turned my head and watched as she opened her mouth.

A cold chill of shock raced down my spine.

The Cult had cut out her tongue. I hadn’t known.

I swallowed heavily and apologized profusely. She shook her head and smiled softly, silently telling me that I hadn’t offended her. I didn’t ask any more questions after that.

When I was finally ready, the woman brought me a silky dress that she wrapped around my body. It was the same color blue as my eyes, and I felt rather ethereal in it as she tied it around my waist. She knelt down and slipped a pair of dark blue ballet flats onto my feet. Finally, she opened a velvet box and took out a silver necklace. With a soft sigh, she stood behind me and clasped it around my neck.

I looked back in the mirror, studying the way the glimmering icy blue stone caught the light. I looked like a princess. Any other woman would have been happy to be primped and prodded like this, but I felt like I was being prepared for slaughter.

Maybe I was.

The Cult had taken me and now they were preparing me for my buyer. From what we knew about the Cult, omegas were prepared in batches and auctioned off to a number of alpha men. I’d never heard of a single woman being taken like this and my guard was raised because of it.

Whatever was coming for me, I would be ready. I thanked the servants that had readied me and bowed my head in deference. They smiled back at me and I heard the door open behind me. Their grins faltered and they rushed back to work. I turned my head and took in three masked figures. The masks were simple, painted black wood indicative of the Cult of the Blood Moon. These three had a few decorative elements though, the most obvious being the dark red ruby in the middle of the mask’s forehead, as well as white war paint on the cheeks and around the gemstone. The fabric of their robes was elegant and likely very expensive as well.

These three were important and they’d come to retrieve me.

They kept a triangular formation as they approached me. I noted one had green eyes, one had brown eyes, and the one at the center had two different colored irises, one blue and the other brown. As they walked, I tried to discern anything