Free Taken by the Enemy by Jennifer Bene Page A

“Please, may I keep the rest on?” Her voice was pleading, and she hated the sound of it.
    “What kind of punishment is that? I’m getting impatient, girl, you have ten seconds.” Mathias reached down and drew a knife from his boot and Emmie swallowed.
    It was quick work to divest herself of the rest, but she went from feeling naked to being completely exposed, which only grew worse as Mathias pressed her back against the rough bark of the tree with a hand in the center of her chest.
    “Hands up,” he ordered and she raised her eyes to see the loops of rope that seemed to have been placed there expressly for this purpose. “That’s right. You’re not the first one to need correction. Now, wrists.”
    Emmie held her arms above her head, keeping her eyes screwed tight even as she felt him tighten the rope around her wrists. Matching loops went around each ankle, but when he was done wrapping rope around her and the tree, her legs stayed closed – and for that she was grateful, although she’d never voice it to him. “I hate all of you,” she whispered when he straightened up again.
    “Just remember this the next time you think about being defiant.” He tugged on the ropes one last time, and then picked up her clothes and shoes in his arms. “Use this time to think about whether or not the information you’re keeping to yourself is worth it. I’ll come back later.”
    As soon as he was out of sight, she tested the ropes, worrying her wrists and her feet until her skin felt raw again, breaking the barely healed skin. His words dug at her, and she hated that there was nothing to do but think about what had put her in this position. Naked, in full view of anyone passing through the village center. The tree above her provided some shade, but dappled sunlight still danced over her skin, and the chill of the air was already biting at her with no clothing to break it.
    You just had to mention you could write , her mind mocked and she smacked her head back against the tree as if it would halt her own thoughts.
    They wanted to know the truth about her, but she didn’t even want to think about who she really was. Or who she had been before she ran. Emeline Anne Daniau. Second daughter to Jules Daniau, bastard .
    What would they do if they found out the truth? Would they even listen to the reasons why she had left the city voluntarily, or would they mindlessly hate her?
    It’s not like she didn’t have a sob story. Every one of them had a sob story, and she’d listened to several over the last week. The only difference was that none of their sob stories started on a beautiful estate, where food was abundant, where in simpler times the most stressful decision she’d had to make had been about what to wear to a dinner party, or how to do her hair.
    They’ll hate you , an inner voice whispered at her, and she couldn’t help but agree. Alice knew about her, and she was still kind, but it was clear that Alice’s particular level of generosity and kindness was unique.
    No, she couldn’t tell them.
    She was surrounded by the enemies of the city, the very people she had been raised to fear. They were the bogeymen of her childhood, the threats posed whenever she was disobedient.
    Eat your vegetables, or the raiders will take you in the night!
    Obey your father, or you’ll end up like the exiles!
    Well, look where she was. Even after all the vegetables she had eaten, even after all the times she had born her father’s rage as he’d shouted at her to behave , after all the fun she had refused to participate in because it might upset him – with one broken promise she found herself amidst them anyway.
    Mathias could rot in hell. Lucian could too. The whole damned village of exiles could be swallowed by the earth for all she cared.
    Emmie wrapped her rage around her like a blanket and did her best to tune out everyone, focusing instead on the wind in the trees, the chirping of birds, and the buzzing of insects. That was