CAGED (#3, of Crows and Thorns)

Chapter 103

I wrung my hands together and begged mother Skalki that this wasn't going to happen tonight, that my parents wouldn't witness the degradation of me being sold. Would I be leaving with this stranger? Would he take me here at the Emporium or would it happen elsewhere?

"I can't believe you'd do this to me..." The words escaped my lips before I could stop them. "Especially after..." Danne.

Jett and his family knew I'd been trapped in a limousine with that repulsive man.

I was still confused as to why the Crowthers would put me through this. I couldn't understand their decision to break my father through me in this vile manner. Earlier, Kenton had even shown his unease. Jett hated the Pelans, all the Crowthers did for what Danne had tried to do to Ferne. Jett had just proven it with Corné. He'd been compassionate when I'd very nearly had a panic attack at the elder Pelan's presence.

Jett's gaze sliced to mine, and surprise lurched in my stomach. For a moment, I swore I saw contrition tormenting his violet eyes before he yanked his gaze away, his shoulders curving inward slightly. I licked my dry lips, before asking, "When?" my voice hoarse and barely a whisper.

"When, what?"

"When's all this supposed to happen?"

"Oh...ah..." He cleared his throat, waving his hand in a distracted manner. "Whenever he decides."

I refocused my attention on my father's heated argument with Kenton. His voice was pitched too low for me to hear everything he said, but I could see by my father's aggravated gestures and the clipped way he spoke, the angry curl of his mouth and fists, that he wasn't being polite.

I caught only a few words my father aimed at him, and they were arrows cutting through Kenton's stoic facade. "After Danne." "Assaulted." "You'd subject her to this?"

And in astonishment, I watched the older brother flinch. I'd never seen anyone but Penn manage to pierce Kenton's austere armor.

Caidan too, was listening in with his heightened hearing. He was so sickly-pale looking, that he seemed on the verge of throwing up all over his shoes.

My wide-eyed gaze shifted to the bid-winning man. He was a few years younger than my father with bouncy blond curls that were turning silver and a weathered face as if he spent time outdoors. Ashen-faced, he was hunched forward and seemed strangely nervous.

A familiar twang jarred along my bones. I frowned. My skirts floated outward as I shifted around to look at him better. That same feeling from before crept upon me that I'd met or seen him somewhere else. He brought the warmth of dappled sunshine upon my skin, the fresh, crisp scent of grass clippings.

I relaxed my mind and let it wander, marking the sensations that rose within me at the thought of this man. My senses pinched with the phantom scent of pungent greenery, and the tinny sound of metal bells ringing, the kind that was attached to bike handles. Children's laughter. Parents' gentle chiding. Sunshine in a clear blue sky. The sweet smell of roses.