myself against the front of the cage.
She didn’t say anything. For one so small, I was impressed at her silent strength. She didn’t cower or shrink away when she saw my face. Some of the biggest men I’d been forced to kill—slowly, very slowly—had cried and begged for their lives just at one glance at me. But this Georgian was silent, looking me straight in the eyes.
Twirling the metal picana in my hand, I pressed the button on the handle. The electric current sparked, the crackling sound booming in the silent room. She flinched, but she didn’t cry out.
Stepping closer to the bars, I stood erect and asked coldly in Georgian, “What’s your name?”
I studied every inch of her body, especially her face. She blinked a second too long, and swallowed deep, before whispering, “Elene.” My jaw tightened at the sound of her voice. Her accent was strong. Her repulsive Georgian accent.
But that was forgotten when I let her response sink in. She was brave to try to lie. Because she was lying. Whoever had trained her had trained her well. But she was exhausted—my doing—and she couldn’t control her body well enough to disguise the deception.
She was staring at me, masking her features, her lies. As I rolled my neck from side to side, it cracked. I pushed the button of the prod against the bar, the current sweeping through the cage. The female flinched and curled up in the center of the floor.
When the current faded, I slammed the handle of the prod against the cage and barked, “Tell me your name!”
She sucked in a sharp breath and whispered shakily, “Elene. Elene Melua.”
My body tensed. She had lied to me again. I stared at her. She stared right back. But she didn’t crack, not even under my rage-filled glare. Females especially hated my face—Mistress made sure of it. They caved as soon as they saw the scarred, ugly beast—but not this female.
It made me stop and watch her closer. Why wasn’t she disgusted? Why wasn’t she cowering back in fear?
Challenge, and a morbid hatred of my victim’s disobedience, surged through me. Flicking my chin, I ordered, “Get up!”
The female’s muscles tensed but for a second; then, pushing off the floor, she got to her feet. My nostrils flared as I drank in her naked body, her full tits and her nipples rock hard due to the cold. Her cheeks flushed red as I stared. She immediately tried to cover herself with her arms.
Slamming the handle against the bars, I ordered, “Keep your arms at your sides!”
She did as instructed. Her long wet hair hung in clumps over her chest, covering all but her tits. Discreetly slipping my thumb over the off button on the prod, I slowly, painstakingly, pushed the prod through the bars toward where she stood.
She stiffened as the tip of the prod hovered just an inch from her skin. Holding it exactly where it was and trying a new tactic, I repeated less harshly, “What is your name?”
She didn’t even pause for breath. “Elene Melua.”
Her soft voice was strong and steady. But she was lying. I could sense it. The little female was hiding who she was. My head tilted to the side in reflection. Who the hell was she? Why was she protecting my hit?
Her dark eyes tracked me. Suddenly I lunged the prod forward. Her eyes snapped shut as she braced for the shock. As the tip touched her skin, the expected shock didn’t come. She gasped and opened her eyes. She was breathing hard as the tip of the prod pressed against the bottom of her throat.
She never moved, her body as still as rock as I pushed the tip harder against her skin. She began breathing slowly through her nostrils as I started to drag the prod over her skin. I kept her focus, my hard stare coldly capturing hers, as I continued my journey with the metal tip.
I moved the prod slowly down her chest until it lay over her sternum. I applied a little pressure, the tip slightly pushing into her smooth skin, until a tiny spot of blood began to sprout underneath. The female’s face contorted into a pained expression. The ache of seeing her in such agony returned to my chest, but I forced it aside.
There was no room for sympathy in this chamber.
Just as I gauged the pressure was becoming too much, I eased off and dragged the tip over to her breast. She gasped as