The Golden Line (Knotted 1)

Unlike the day before, she didn’t wallow. In fact, she did not allow herself to feel anything. Almost robotic, she went through the motions, kept her eyes off them, and even forced smiles when told to—though her face always returned to neutral once she’d performed to their liking.

“Have you been trained in pleasuring an Alpha?”

“No. I am feral and have never been mounted. I have only seen matings via the screen in my room. The details were obscured.”

Alpha males were cycling through the data log at the base of her enclosure, one of them commenting aloud. “Corporal Esin holds the greatest stake. Do you see that, Regis? He won’t be of rank to take a mate for at least two years. Should his suit win, she will be made available for use in the pleasure quarters until he can legally claim her.”

Sergeant Uriel had never once mentioned such a thing to her.

Apathy dropped away, as did Morgaine’s stomach. “What?”

The males did not answer her, their conversation continuing between them. “The corporal will grow rich with her rental, and we can apply to share her company together. Look here, she has been cleared to service up to five males at a time… ten while in estrous. By the time she is under his pair-bond, he’ll have rank, status, money, and a well-trained Omega eager to please him. It’s brilliant, really.”

The soldier’s friend chuckled. “No wonder his case is so strongly petitioned. He must have financial backers impatient to take a cut of the profit.”

Any softness Morgaine might have felt after Esin’s tender care the previous night evaporated. She took a step toward the glass, and tapped her knuckles against the panel to get the males’ attention. “Great Alpha soldiers, can you please clarify?”

They ignored her, scrolling down the file and whistling at what they found.

Desperate for an explanation, she looked around, trying to make eye contact with any male. It was not her eyes they were staring at: breast, thigh, the width of her hips and taper of her waist. Her eyes were inconsequential.

She, Morgaine, was invisible. Only her body mattered.

Looking down at her hands, at her manicured nails, the temptation to set them to her flesh and tear grew overwhelming. If she could just make herself ugly, they might leave her alone.

…or they would heal her and chain her hands.

Frantically working the simple tie of her dress, she pulled the cloth away so all gathered might see her bared. “I want a mate, any mate. I do not wish to work in the pleasure quarters. Who can pay more than Esin? What do I have to do to please you?”

Finally, she had their attention. The male reading her file shook his head. “He was clever in structuring his bid. The sum here is great, more than I can afford. But, when it is my turn to visit you, I will pay the fee and treat you well.”

Her fanatic pitch grew, Morgaine’s palms banging loudly against the glass. “Is there anyone else who can pay more?”

Not one of them offered for her, even if several looked as if they wanted her more than anything in the world.

No wonder so many had been collecting outside her containment. No wonder they were interested in reading the file and scenting her clothing. Each of them would have a chance to know her intimately… for a fee.

For two whole years…

She had one chance to change her fate, throwing back her shoulders to announce, “I am feral, but I would be a good mate. I am industrious and hardworking.”

Someone behind her cracked a joke. “The marks across your ass would say differently.”

Breathless, flustered, Morgaine continued. “Never once was I punished in my settlement. I am loyal and loving. Do not Alphas want to be loved by an Omega? I… I know how to collect and store rare herbs. I can weave baskets, sew clothing. Three of my neighbors’ houses I helped build. I bred goats that made fine milk and cheese.”

They were starting to laugh at her ridiculous list of attributes, not one skill listed useful in their society.

Altering tactics, she said, “I can be the perfect servant. Is that what you want?”

“And you will be… in the pleasure quarters.”

Speechless, completely lost, Morgaine backed away. Glassy eyes went to the floor, to where her dress lay in a heap. Bending down to take it set the wounds on her back to burning at the stretch of skin. But she could not bear to remain naked and begging. Not before these horrible things.

She’d rather bear the pain of the cane over and over than submit to so many for so little. “Any who come to me in the pleasure quarters I will bite.”

That was the wrong thing to say, for immediately several pu

shed closer.