one at that. The god in front of her didn’t have an ounce of fat on him.
He was broad-shouldered. His arms were thick with muscle, though
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he didn’t look like some steroid-crazy gym guy. He’d earned his
muscles. Meg would bet he hadn’t earned them pumping iron. He
worked, and at hard, most likely physical, labor. His skin was bronzed
from the sun.
If his body was heavenly, then Meg didn’t know how to describe
his face. It was all sharp planes and harsh angles that came together to
form something truly beautiful. His jaw looked like it was carved out
of granite. But his eyes were like soft, gray stones in his face. He was,
without a doubt, the loveliest man she had ever seen.
It was too bad he was obviously insane. Beck looked like an
escapee from a Renaissance fair, with his open-necked, linen shirt
under a leather vest. His trousers were made from some sort of animal
skin, as were the boots that came to his knees. Meg could see a sword
peeking from behind his shoulder, held by a scabbard across his back.
“Is she really from the Earth plane?” Beck asked.
“Yes, sir. You can see why I called you.” They both stared at her
like she was some rare exotic creature at a zoo.
Suspicion tickled at Meg’s consciousness. Why exactly was she
here? She’d read articles about human trafficking. She bit her lower
lip and looked at the five other girls in the tent with her. They were
trussed up in the same fashion, though these women kept their heads
lowered and complied with their jailers’ requests. Earlier this
morning, they had been taken out of their cages and chained up for
what seemed like some sort of presentation. Beck had been the first
man to come through the tent. “You shouldn’t buy me. I’m not very
pretty. The other girls are prettier. They’re thinner, too.”