Unconditional Dominance

Sweet Girl

Dawson's POV

She was perfect. Beyond perfect.

As I sat at the fire with my men, eating the pot roast that Henry had prepared, my mind wandered. It replayed Keeley's voice and the little sounds it made as I disciplined her. Her little gasps, the breaths she made all quick and exhausted as if her heart were beating so fast her lungs couldn't keep up.

I wanted to teach her a lesson, but it wasn't the lesson I was used to teaching with Katherine. I had gone much easier on her because it was her first time. But that wasn't the only reason I had been gentle. She appeared so delicate to me. So innocent, so young, so... unaware. Part of me didn't want to drag my culture's customs onto her. The other part of me wanted to immerse her in them completely.

When she knelt in the grass at my feet, her eyes wide and glued to mine, never wavering—it was like her mind was quiet for the first time since meeting her. There was a clarity there that enchanted me. I couldn't look away.I could fall in love with a look like that.

"So," Grayson grunted as he appeared beside me, sitting on the log with his own bowl of pot roast. "How's the lovely lady? Did you scold her until she cried? Do I need to offer myself as a comforting shoulder to cry on?"

Chuckling around a mouthful of food, I half heartedly glared at my friend. "She's perfectly fine, thank you very much. I scolded her just the right amount, and then charmed her after."

"You charmed her?" he teased. "How romantic."

I glared at him genuinely this time.

"It's not romantic. I'm being kind to her, that's all. She's been through a lot, and she needs to feel like she can trust me."

"I don't think you need to worry about that," he mused, and I looked up to find him jerking his chin towards the fire. I followed the direction of his stare and found Keeley looking at me. When she caught me staring, however, she ducked her head and returned to her meal.

She was sitting on the opposite end of the fire from me. Henry was seated to her right, handing her squares of cornbread he had baked in a hot cast iron skillet. She was eating through the bread like crazy, dipping it in the broth of the pot roast. Henry must have passed her three since starting her meal. That meant she wasn't eating the beef, or the vegetables.

I was just about to stand and go over to her so that I could remind her to eat the beef and carrots when Henry picked up her spoon—since she wasn't using it—and spoon fed her a bite all meaty and colorful with the vegetables she needed to be eating. She didn't blink, it seemed to come naturally to her to be fed, even though I was sure it had never happened before she came to us.

She was comfortable with Henry. She was getting comfortable with all of us.

Then something prickled on the back of my neck. I got the sense that we were being watched, something I had tried to remain aware of all night, as it was a likely possibility. We had camped very close to the Berkelium camp, and Ivar was bound to send a few of his men to spy.

I guarded myself, making note of the distance to where my rifle leaned against the log next to me.

I continued to eat, training my eyes on Keeley who was... being perfect. She laughed at something Henry said, appearing happy and relaxed, which is exactly what her people needed to see. They needed to see one of their own treated kindly—not like an enemy or a prisoner of war.

It was perfect.

Relief washed over me. Even as Thomas casually appeared on the other side of me, sitting down and deliberately lifting my rifle and placing it by my boot so that it leaned up against my leg. Then he leaned over his knees, closing as much distance between us as possible.