Chapter 27

The tears come unbidden, hot streaks cutting through the drool on my chin. My vision blurs as the realization crashes through me with sickening force.

He told them. Sean told them where I was. He sold me out. Three years together and he—

I jerk backward instinctively, trying to escape the confirmation written in Sean’s carefully neutral expression. But Omar is still mounted on my back, his weight pressing down on my shoulders, and the movement only makes the saddle shift and the bit dig deeper into the corners of my mouth.

Omar’s small hand touches my ear, his voice a low warning whisper only I can hear. “Clit ring, Pixie. Behave.”

I freeze instantly. The conditional threat hangs over me like an executioner’s blade—one week of perfect behavior or the piercing happens. My legs tremble but I force myself still.

Sean watches this exchange with professional interest, noting how quickly I respond to Omar’s command. “She’s further along than I expected,” he observes. “Response time’s good. You break her yourself, or did Chief Gorlm handle conditioning?”