Chapter 2: Wolfe

Location: Santa Fe Sanctuary

"I'll take her," the Warlord says, his lascivious eyes glued to our new arrival. "How much?"

I can tell from the look on the woman's face that she had no idea she was being brought into Sanctuary as a slave. About to be sold into our Warlord's harem.

As I watch the shadows cross her face it becomes clear that this news has crushed her. I can actually see her spirit shrink as sadness eclipses the look of hope that she'd walked in with. A na•ve woman if she thought she was being taken to safety by an Outsider. Sanctuary will come at a price for this one.

And that price is...

"I want twelve months of supplies, including food, bedding, clothes, the usual. You can throw in a coin purse of a few hundred dollars too, in case I find a Sanctuary willing to trade in currency."

"Six months supplies," Silas counters.

"Eight months."

Silas looks at the woman critically, taking in her lovely features and beautifully sculpted body, before nodding his head. "Done."

Of course, it could be much worse. She could have been sold to another Warlord, one who's far more brutal. Though I don't like or respect my Warlord, he's not a cruel man. He likes women and fills his harem with them. Every shape and size, every temperament. The only requirement is that they be beautiful. And this one is no exception.

Once more my gaze strays to her. If her face wasn't twisted in misery it would be a work of art. High cheekbones, long nose, perfect lips. Her face is surrounded by a cloud of dark brown hair with reddish hints. She's tall, with hints of curves in all the right places, though it's clear that she hasn't eaten well in a long time.

The harem women will fatten her up, show her that she's safe and help her settle down. Eventually, like the others, she'll learn to enjoy her time here. And if she's lucky, the Warlord will take her as a wife. Given her stunning beauty, I can't imagine he would pass on this one.

I turn to the guard standing nearest to me. "When the sale is finished, take her to the harem. Have Hannah take care of her."

"Yes, sir," he says, his eyes on the woman.

"You will remove your eyes from the Warlord's new slave before I do it for you," I promise him.

He swiftly drops his eyes and takes a couple of steps away in the guise of doing as I say, though I suspect I make him uncomfortable. Most of the palace guard have learned that I will follow-up threat with action. It's best to follow my orders immediately without question.

The sale finishes and Silas turns to speak to his guards. "Take her to the harem."

As the guard reaches for her, she moves suddenly, plunging her hand into his belt. The startled palace guard stumbles back while she drags his knife from the sheath. She spins on the spot and lunges forward, pointing the knife at Silas and the Outsider. It's clear from the way she's standing and holding the knife that she has no idea what she's doing. Though I'm not worried that she'll do much damage, I have no choice but to step in. Our Warlord prefers not to have threats on his life.

She raises the knife high and slashes it in a downward arc toward the Outsider's belly, clearly intent on disemboweling him. I snap my hand over her wrist before she can make contact and swing her around. Her startled grey eyes lift to mine and I'm struck by the passion and fury within. When she was first brought to the throne room I thought I was seeing a woman defeated. I dismissed her as just another harem girl. Frightened and alone, but a woman who would settle easily into her new home. Instead, I'm seeing something else, something more to this woman. A fight I did not anticipate.

She opens her mouth to say something to me and I would have given up my food rations for a week if she'd been able to finish the sentence, but before she can speak the Outsider slams his fist into the side of her head. She drops like a stone at my feet.

"Bitch," he snarls, spitting on her unconscious form.

I drag my pistol from the holster and hold it on the Outsider. "You insult the Warlord's woman?" My stance and the ice in my words must alert the other man to the danger surrounding him. All of my palace guards are now on full alert, their hands on their weapons, their gazes on me.

They're awaiting instructions from their commander. If I tell them to kill this Outsider, he will be dead within seconds.

But in an unusual move, the Warlord steps in. He places his hand on my arm and when I stiffen, he drops it and takes a step back. Though I am technically his subordinate, we both know if I wanted him dead, he would be dead. I tolerate him as Warlord because it suits me.

Silas once asked me why I never became a Warlord. I didn't answer the question because he didn't need to know. Instead, I commented, "When I want the position, you'll be the first to know."

From that day, Silas's gaze became sharper whenever it landed on me, more guarded. Silas is a man who understands his strengths and his weaknesses. He's a thinker, not a fighter. He surrounds himself with loyal and talented people who are willing to help fight for Sanctuary. What he fails to understand is that I have no respect for him. I am here out of purely selfish reasons. By creating a place for myself within the Sanctuary, in a security position, I'm ensuring a long-term home for myself. I have food, equipment, and men at my back. In this shithole of a world we live in now, a man can't ask for much more than basic comfort and safety.

As I look down at the beautiful woman sprawled across the floor, her fiery attitude contained by a punch to the head, I wonder if my solitary existence is at risk. There's something about her, something that has made a tiny crack in a heart turned to ice long ago. In those few seconds when she fought for her freedom, thought to avenge herself, I saw a kindred spirit.

Silas finishes paying the Outsider, sends him on his way and turns to one of the guards. "Take her to the harem. Tell Hannah to take special care of her." Silas kneels next to the woman, brushing the hair off her forehead and looking down at her flawless features. "Stunning, isn't she? Her name is Skye."

Skye. Stormy and deceptively beautiful.

He looks up at me as he says it, something in his gaze telling me that he sees in her what I see. Jealousy rips through me and for the first time in a long time I consider cutting him down right now and taking his place.

We stare at each other for long, tension filled seconds and I wonder if he can read my mind. He's calm, not calling out to the guards to protect him. Even if he did, they'd be confused. Protect him from his second-in-command? I've never made a move against him and I'm not about to start now. Besides, if I wanted him dead, there would be nothing the palace guards could do to stop me. I am second-in-command for a reason.

I have no intention of harming my Warlord though. No one is worth the pain in the ass of having to run a Sanctuary, not even this woman. She'll take her place in the harem, settle down and learn to accept life in the palace. I will assign her a guard, same as the other harem women, and I will likely not see her often. As the Warlord's second, I run security in the palace and on the wall. I work with the police force in the city to maintain order. Our paths won't cross often. She'll be just another pretty face, like any other. She will likely cross the room when she sees me coming, and avoid me in the hall, like the other women.

Yet, as the guard reaches for her, to do Silas's bidding and take her to the harem, I push him out of the way. "I'll take her." There's no room for argument in my tone as I scoop the unconscious woman into my arms.

I try to ignore the way her body feels against mine as I stride through the halls toward the harem. She's thin from lack of food, but I can feel the definition of muscles beneath her skin. I wish her eyes were open. I want to see if they're as stormy grey as I remember them from those few seconds when she looked up at me with such passionate fury.

The harem doors open in front of me and I stride through, guided by Hannah to an empty room. I set the woman on the bed and step away. A sensation sweeps through me, something I've never felt before. Regret. I don't want to let her go.

I decide I better leave the harem before I do something stupid. It's time to forget this woman exists.

Before I leave, I say to Hannah, "Take good care of this one." I pause and then add, "Watch yourself, she's a fighter."

With one last look at the woman, I turn and walk away, determined to put her out of my mind. She belongs to the Warlord and I am not the Warlord.