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flash of
    her leather beneath the subdued lighting. He bit his tongue and willed his body not to respond to
    her. She was the enemy, a bitch like the rest. The soft roll of her hips as she strode across the
    pale wood floor toward him set his teeth on edge.
    “You are my novice, and you should be thankful for the chance to ever serve a royal
    house.”
    “I am a prince. I am no one’s whore.” He raised his chin and stared down his nose at her as
    she slowly walked past the edge of the table, trailing her fingers down the polished wood.
    “No, you’re a lucky fool.” Her scent saturated the air as she gave him a look of disapproval
    that, strangely, hurt his feelings. He must be losing his mind. Only a crazy man would give a shit
    about what his beautiful, soft, and delicious adversary thought about him. “By all rights you
    should be spending your days in the zanthin mines with the rest of the thieves and murderers.”
    “I’m not a murderer.” He ignored her snort. “The only men I’ve ever killed were on the
    field of battle in honorable combat.” Why was he trying to defend himself to this slut? Why
    should he care what she thought of him? The fact that she was the first person to treat him with
    any hint of kindness since his capture didn’t mean she wasn’t here for the purpose of making him
    a compliant slave.
    As he grappled with his confused feelings, she leaned close enough for her breath to warm
    his chest. So tiny he could crush her with one hand. The mental fantasy of hurting her didn’t
    bring him any of the pleasure it used to when he’d dreamed of torturing his other trainers. His

    The Breaker’s Concubine
    27

    lust refused to be turned to battle rage and deepened as her heat moved over his exposed skin like
    the sunlight he craved.
    “Your people like to fight?” The sensation of her breath caressing his skin made the hair on
    his arms stand on end.
    “No one likes war. We fight to protect our people, to keep our territory and women out of
    the hands of the southern rebels.” He tried to shift away from her fingertips as they traced the
    ridges of his abdominal muscles. Little sparks of pleasure followed her touch, and his cock
    twitched with interest.
    “Then our people have something in common.” She pressed the soft pads of her fingers
    into the hard curve of his hip bone.
    “What are you talking about? We’re nothing like you.” His heartbeat sped as she toyed
    with the top edge of his loincloth.
    “Really? Aren’t you like those rebels you protect your home against? Didn’t you raid what
    you hoped was an innocent vessel in order to pillage it?”
    Her words struck him, and he snapped, “That’s not the same at all. We raid to survive.
    Look at you; look at this place.” He gestured to the room with his shackled hand. “I bet you’ve
    never gone hungry, never known what it’s like to wonder where your next meal is coming from.
    You’ve probably never even seen a starving child, let alone had to hold one while they died in
    your arms.” His breath came out in harsh pants, and he fought to control himself. He had no need
    to justify himself to this bitch. Why the hell did he care if she thought he was scum? As soon as
    he could, he was going to get out of here and kill anyone who tried to stop him, even her.
    Ignorant of his internal struggle, she placed her hand gently over his heart. “And you
    have?” Instead of anger, her voice held a pity that scraped against his nerves. “I’m so sorry you
    had to go through that. It must haunt you.” The memory of the massive droughts that had led to
    the hungry years poked at the ache in his heart. He fought against the soothing effect of her
    husky voice as the perfume of her arousal filled his nose. “Whether you believe it or not, Prince,
    it is hard for me to watch you or anyone else suffer. I will do everything in my power to make
    this as easy and pleasurable for you as I can. I promise.”

    28

    Ann