Zarek took a step back as Valerius's eyes widened and he gulped. It was obvious Valerius was searching for a lie. "W-w-we were going to the m-m-market," Valerius said quickly.

"You and the slave?" the commander asked incredulously. "For what? Were you hoping to buy a new whip to beat him with?"

Zarek prayed for Valerius not to lie. It was always worse on him when Valerius lied to protect him.

If only he dared to speak the truth, but he had learned long ago that slaves never spoke to their betters.

And he, more than the others, was never allowed to address his father.

"W-w-well... I..."

His father growled a curse and kicked Valerius in the face. The force of the blow knocked Valerius down where he lay beside Zarek with his nose pouring blood.

"I am sick of the way you coddle him." His father dismounted his horse and stormed toward Zarek, who fell to his knees and covered his head, waiting for the beating that was to come.

His father kicked him in his still-sore ribs. "Get up, dog."

Zarek couldn't breathe from the pain in his side and the terror that consumed him.

His father kicked him again. "Up, damn you."

Zarek forced himself to stand even though all he wanted to do was run. But he'd learned long ago not to. Running only made the punishment worse.

So he stood there, braced for the blows.

His father grabbed him by the neck, then turned to Valerius, who was now on his feet as well. He grabbed Valerius by his clothes and snarled at him. "You disgust me. Your mother was such a whore that it makes me wonder what coward fathered you. I know you didn't come from me."

Zarek saw pain flash in Valerius's eyes, but he quickly masked it. It was a common lie their father uttered whenever he was angry at Valerius. One had only to look at the two of them to know Valerius was as much his son as Zarek was.

His father slung Valerius away from him and hauled Zarek by his hair toward a stall.

Zarek wanted to place his own hand over his father's to keep his hold from hurting so badly, but didn't dare.

His father couldn't stand for him to touch him. "You're a slaver?" his father asked.

An older man stood before them. "Yes, my lord. Can I interest you in a slave today?"

"No. I want to sell you one."

Zarek gaped as he understood what was happening. The thought of leaving his home terrified him. As bad as things were, he had heard enough stories from other slaves to know that life could get significantly worse for him.

The old slaver looked at Valerius gleefully.

Valerius stepped back, his face pale.

"He's a handsome boy, my lord. I can get a pretty fee for him."

"Not him," the commander snarled. "This one."

He shoved Zarek toward the slaver who curled his lip in disgust. The man covered his nose. "Is this a jest?"

"No."

"Father-"

"Hold your tongue, Valerius, or I'll take him up on his offer for you."

Valerius passed a sympathetic look to Zarek, but wisely stayed silent.

The slaver shook his head. "This one is worthless. What did you use him for?"

"A whipping boy."

"He's too old for that now. My clients want younger, attractive children. This wretch is fit for nothing except begging."

"Take him and I'll give you two denarii."

Zarek gaped at his father's words. He was paying a slaver to take him? Such a thing was unheard of.

"I'll take him for four."

"Three."

The slaver nodded. "For three, then."

Zarek couldn't breathe as their words resonated inside him. He was so worthless that his father had been forced to pay to be rid of him? Even the cheapest of slaves was still worth two thousand denarii.

But not him. Hewas every bit as worthless as everyone claimed.

No wonder they all hated him.

He watched as his father paid the man. Without another look at him, his father grabbed Valerius by the arm and hauled him away.

A younger version of the slaver came into his blurry sight and expelled a repulsed breath. "What are we to do with him, Father?"

The slaver tested the coins with his teeth. "Send him in to clean out the cesspit for the other slaves. If he dies of disease, who cares? Better he clean it than someone we could actually sell for profit."

The younger man smiled at that.

Using a stick, he prodded Zarek toward the stalls. "Come on, rat. Let me show you to your new duties."

Astrid came awake from the dream with her heart pounding. She lay in her bed, surrounded by the darkness she was used to, as Zarek's pain washed over her.

She'd never felt such despair. Such need.

Such loathing.

Zarek hated everyone, but most of all, he hated himself.

No wonder the man was insane. How could he have lived with such misery?

"M'Adoc?" she whispered.

"Here." He sat beside her.

"Leave some more of the serum for me and Lotus serum, as well."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Chapter 7

Zarek woke up just after noon. He very seldom slept through the day. It was more like napping. In the summertime it was too hot in his cabin for him to sleep comfortably and in winter it was too cold.

But mostly it was because his dreams never allowed him to sleep for long. The past haunted him too much to give him peace, and while unconscious, he couldn't keep those memories away.

But as he opened his eyes and heard the wind rushing outside, he remembered where he was.

Astrid's cabin.

He'd sealed the curtains tight last night so he couldn't tell if it was still snowing outside or not. Not that it mattered. During daylight, he was trapped here.

Trapped withher .

He got out of bed and walked down the hallway, toward the kitchen. How he wished he were at home. He really needed a substantial drink. Not that the vodka could really chase away the dreams that lingered in his mind. But the burn of it was a bit distracting.

"Zarek?"

He turned at the soft voice that went down him like a silken caress. His body reacted instantly to it.

All he had to do was think her name and it made him rock-hard and needful.

"What?" He didn't know why he answered her when he normally wouldn't have.

"Are you all right?"

He snorted at that. He'd never once in his life been all right. "Do you have anything to drink in this place?"

"I have juice and tea."

"Liquor, princess. Do you have anything in this place with a bite to it?"

"Only Sasha and of course, you."

Zarek glanced down at the vicious cuts on his arm where her pet had attacked him. If he were any other Dark-Hunter those wounds would be gone now. But lucky him, they would be here for a few days more.

Just like the hole in his back.

Sighing, he reached inside the fridge and pulled out her orange juice. He opened the top and almost had the container to his lips before he remembered that it wasn't his and this wasn't his place.

The vicious side of him told him to go for it and drink it, she'd never know, but he didn't listen to that voice.

He went to the cabinet and pulled out a glass, then poured it full. Astrid could only hear faint tell-tale signs that Zarek was still in the kitchen. He was so quiet that she had to strain just to make sure.

Walking forward, she headed for the sink. "Are you hungry?"

Out of habit, she reached out-and brushed her hand against a hot, naked hip.

It was smooth, inviting.

Scintillating.

Stunned by the unexpected sensation of her hand on his bare flesh, she lowered her hand down his leg before she realized Zarek didn't have any clothes on.

The man was fully naked in her kitchen.

Her heart hammered.

He moved away from her. "Don't touch me."

She shivered at the anger in his voice. "Where are your clothes?"

"I don't sleep in jeans."

Her hand burned with the memory of his skin under her fingers. "Well, you should have put them on before you came out here."

"Why? You're blind. It's not like you could see me."

True, but if Sasha were awake, he'd been having a fit over this.

"I don't need you to remind me of my shortcomings, Prince Charming. Believe me, I'm well aware of the fact that I can't see you."

"Yeah, well, count your blessings."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not worth looking at."