Slave to Passion Read Online Free Page B

not to give him the emotional breakdown he desperately wanted.
    Hana opened the door and motioned Kavin through. On shaky legs that were thankfully hidden behind the skirt of her gown, Kavin stepped from her room into the sitting area of the harem.
    Several other jarriah were draped over the opulent, gem-colored furnishings, their gowns as expensive and regal as the one Kavin wore, their slave-band markings an in-your-face reminder of what Kavin had to look forward to when she completed her test.
    Three jarriah lounging in the room looked her up and down with smug expressions, then resumed their conversation as if Kavin had never entered. But the fourth, a brunette on the far settee, wearing a gold gown and dangling gold earrings, smiled sadly. And in her eyes there was pity.
    Kavin looked quickly away and drew a deep breath for courage. Three guards and a male dressed in commoner’s garb, his chest covered by a leather breastplate and a whip tied at his hip, waited on the far side of the room.
    It was all Kavin could do to walk across the marble floor without collapsing into a puddle. When she reached the males, she recognized the commoner from the arena. He’d stood near the gates, watching the fight with a keen eye. He stepped forward and took her hand.
    His skin was shades darker than hers and warm. And his eyes were gentle. “My name is Malik, and I am to escort you to your test.”
    Rape . Kavin wished they’d all just call it what it really was, but she knew better than to say so.
    She nodded once—the best she could do—and moved away from Hana, letting the male in the breastplate lead her out into the corridor.
    The female chatter from the salon slowly receded as their steps echoed down the opulent hallway with its arched ceiling and towering columns. Two guards walked ahead, one at her back. Malik held her hand, never once letting her pull away as they made their way out of Zayd’s garish compound and stepped into the sunshine.
    The glare blinded her, and she held up a hand to block the sun’s rays. Warmth beat against her skin, reflected from the dust beneath her feet, but she barely felt the heat of midday as she was loaded into a carriage. Thoughts spun out of control as Malik climbed in after her, and her pulse raced when the door snapped closed. Then the carriage jolted forward, winding its way through the bustling streets of Jahannam.
    Free djinn could teleport through open air, but not slaves. So everyone they passed knew what she was. From the garishness of Zayd’s carriage, most of them knew where she was going and why.
    Her stomach rolled. Every turn of the wheels brought her that much closer to her fate, sent her heart rate skyrocketing. Sweat broke out on her skin, ran down the line of her spine, and gathered at the small of her back.
    Once, she’d thought the stately buildings and old-world architecture of this city were charming. Now all she could focus on were the guards stationed on the roofs they passed, the wall that surrounded the city and kept its inhabitants locked inside, and the stark difference between the commoners on the streets and the highborns like Zayd who occupied the garish towers around her and commanded others to do whatever the hell they wanted.
    “…remember that and you’ll be fine.”
    Malik’s voice cut through her frantic thoughts. Unable to steady her rapid breaths, Kavin turned his way. “Wh-what did you say?”
    Malik squeezed her hand. His hair was short and dark, his body lean and muscled. This close, she could see that he wasn’t wearing a shirt under his breastplate, and along the edge of the leather that covered his left shoulder and upper arm, the distinct black flames of the slave marking peeked beneath his armor.
    He wasn’t a commoner after all. Her gaze shot to his face once more. He was a slave, like her, being ordered to do someone else’s will. And though his eyes were kind, they also hinted of secrets she didn’t want to know. “I said, the