Prideful Savage (A Warrior's Redemption #1) - Miranda Bridges Page 0,6

shift my focus to Kalach. “What about you? Don’t tell me you’re on Commander Leoric’s shit list as well.”

A smirk curves his mouth. “It’s none of your business how I got here. Just know I plan on finding the cure even if I need to throw every last one of you sons of bitches into the Forbidden Lake. Starting with Raziel.”

Varyx chuckles and raises his ale. “At least we can agree on something, brother.”

I lift my own tankard. “Now if we could try to not almost die this time, that would be great.”

With a nod and grunt in agreement, we each drink to that. Once we finish, the waitress saunters over, her one eye filled with lust. Ezarith advances on her like a predator and touches the female’s green skin. The poor thing almost faints from just that. Hopefully he doesn’t fuck her.

Another dead body is not what any of us need right now.

Ella

Here we go again. Fuck me.

Okay, not really. More like I wish Emji would go fuck himself. I’m sure his insults are heard by all the patrons in the cantina, but that doesn’t bother me one bit. I never serve the customers their food and drinks because I’m not allowed to leave the washroom. All I get to do is scrub pots and pans, as well as clean everything else in this dump.

How can you clean something that’s perpetually dirty? Well, you can’t. Sometimes I think Emji has me wash things for no other purpose than to be spiteful. I have no idea why, but that doesn’t change the situation.

“How are you not done with these dishes?” Emji asks, spittle now dangling from his ginormous mouth. “People can’t drink without tankards. I don’t know why I purchased you, since your species is pathetic and useless.”

It’s interesting that he views me in such a way when he’s dumber than a rock. And it doesn’t help that he looks like one too. His slate-gray skin is textured with bumps, and it covers every inch of his bulky, massive frame. The small patch of black hair on his head is stringy, and if the wind blows too hard, he’ll end up bald. Not that it matters because he’s hideous either way.

I keep my head bowed, but it’s not in deference. Quite the opposite actually. If Emji sees the murder that’s sure to be found in my gaze, he’ll probably sell me to someone else. Which would not be okay because I wouldn’t know what to expect. At least with Emji, I know he won’t hurt me, and even though he’s a jerk, he hasn’t let anyone else harm me either. Another reason I have no interest in leaving is that I’ve been stealing from him for the last three weeks, ever since I woke up in this hellhole after crash-landing.

“I’ll work faster,” I say, keeping my tone calm and soothing. “If I could have shoes to help support my feet, I’m sure I could do better, since I wouldn’t be in pain.”

He grunts and places a meaty hand on the counter, the appendage resembling a stack of boulders. “I don’t need them, and I’m fine. You just want to run away.”

I slide my gaze to his bare feet and then back to mine. They are covered in grime and already sore, despite the fact there are several hours left until the establishment closes.

“My ankle monitor will keep me from leaving,” I say. The band of gray metal is tight and pinches my skin if I’m not careful. The blinking green light on the rim mocks me, notifying me the contraption is still fully functioning, but if I knew how to deactivate it, I would. That’s a no-brainer, even for Emji.

“Of course it will. No more talk of shoes and no more excuses.” He stomps his foot as though to emphasize how ridiculous I am, and the floorboards creak in protest. “Get back to work.”

I wait until he’s gone before releasing a stream of whispered insults. That relieves some of my frustration, and what isn’t completely eradicated, I take out on the goblets piled in the sink. The clang of metal rings in the air, and water splashes onto my apron, but I don’t care because that is also dirty. Come to think of it, I should probably jump in this large basin with the dishes. It’s not that I don’t bathe; it’s that I’m not allowed to as much as I would like.

“Ella, dear!”

I swing my head in the direction