Free Moon Borne (Halcyon Romance Series Book 1) by Rachael Slate

hooves. He’d performed the morphos . Although the male was an impressive bodyguard in human form, as a centaur he was fearsome. An establishment like this demanded that kind of respect. Most of the occupants were rough, though none moved with the lethal grace her companions did. She bit her lip, holding back a grin.
    The slaver navigated them through the crowds. Her eyes stung and watered. She coughed as the offensive odors of liquor and smoke filled her nostrils. Her pure lungs were unaccustomed to anything but the freshest mountain air. Ignore the distraction. She stamped down the urge to cleanse herself.
    As they approached the far side, she managed to control her breathing. The slaver halted before two guards standing in front of a red velvet curtain. Upon spotting him, they parted the drapery. A handful of pillowed couches were arranged around the room so that the center floor resembled a stage.
    Her battle-honed scrutiny performed a quick survey. Seven males reclined on their individual chaise longues. Two females. Five smoked cigars; six drank from pewter mugs. Against the wall, behind each slaver, stood a bodyguard. To the left, or in some cases, seated upon their lap, was one slave for each. About two-thirds were female, the rest male.
    All were stunningly beautiful.
    Three were chained.
    Her captor sank onto the only open chaise. Thereus ushered her to stand beside her captor and then claimed his stance against the wall.
    The conversations slowed as the room’s occupants twisted to assess them. One male, a heavyset creature with the wings of an angel and the smirk of a demon, perused her slaver. “Welcome, my friend.”
    “Borasco.” Her captor inclined his head.
    “Haven’t seen you for a while, Arsenius. I would ask whether business has been good, but I can see it has been.” The Wind Borne raked his lewd leer across Kyme’s body, resting on her breasts. Or her mark. She didn’t want to know which.
    “An Amazon, impressive. They’re harder than hell to capture.” The winged male blinked at her hands. “You sure you shouldn’t chain this one?”
    “She’ll be fine. My man’s got her covered.”
    Borasco’s eyes wavered for a second, but he seemed convinced by the slaver’s explanation as he settled deep into his seat. Indeed, Kyme would rather not enrage the centaur.
    “How have things been in Thrace?”
    “Boring as Hades since the old man declared those aquatic miscreations off-limits. What I wouldn’t give to sink my talons into one.” He chuckled. “But then, it’s not worth incurring Zephyrus’s wrath. Still, those mermaydes do sell well on the market. Never had a problem acquiring a buyer.” He snorted and grinned.
    She narrowed her eyes and focused in on her prey. Water Borne, or mermaydes, were sacred, ethereal creatures, as subject to the Moon as the Amazons were. The Moon controlled the Tides, and the Tides ruled the Oceans the Water Borne called home. They were also the timeless enemies of the Wind Borne.
    She memorized the face of this abomination in front of her. Someday she’d kill him. Slowly. And after, she’d bathe in his blood.
    A female slave from the other side of the curtain handed Kyme a silver platter laden with delicacies.
    “What am I supposed to do with this?”
    Her slaver’s low voice rumbled, “Serve me, slave.”
    “Never.” She hissed and slapped the platter on the table in front of him. Every creature in the room whipped their focus toward Arsenius and Kyme.
    “Now.” A growl rumbled from his chest.
    Kyme crossed her arms.
    The pyrate to her left snickered. “Not quite got her trained yet, eh mate?”

Chapter 8

    “Oh, I do.” Her slaver’s voice was steel as he grabbed Kyme’s arm and pressed on her wrist with enough force to threaten he would break it. The fury steaming off him blasted through her. In truth, she didn’t know him or what he was capable of. Did she care to discover if he would go so far as snapping her wrist?
    Indignation