Prologue

Madrid, Spain 1772

Chilly, damp concrete meets my cheek as I’m tossed unceremoniously into the cell. The guard chuckles at my humiliation and rage boils within the pit of my abdomen.

I pull myself upright, the clanking of the shackles round my ankles loud in my ear. All I can do is glare at my captor, one of many king’s guards. The copper style of my very own blood lingers on my tongue, a results of the beating I took.

The one issues I’ve accountable for my predicament are myself and my silly libido. The king’s son, the darling prince of Spain, was too alluring to disregard, and I adopted him to my demise.

“Get snug,” the king’s guard says to me. “You may be right here for a very long time.”

The steel door slams shut, leaving me in darkness. It smells of mould and physique odor, the faint squeak of rats the one sound.

I lean towards the wall, considering precisely how I plan to get out of right here. It’s not the primary time I’ve been imprisoned and certain received’t be the final. Making a residing by taking from others was certain to meet up with me, however I’ve actually made a large number of issues this time. I enraged the king.

As day turns to nighttime, my abdomen rumbles with starvation, however I curl into myself on the stone ground and pray to nonexistent gods for sleep.

* * *

The loud sound of steel sliding on steel because the cell door opens jolts me awake. It takes me a second to deal with the boys within the doorway within the faint mild. A person steps in, and even within the dimness, I can really feel his gaze on me.

“This one will do properly,” the person says, his voice deep and accented. Irish perhaps? “He appears robust.”

“He’s solely been right here just a few hours,” the guard says.

“Good. Identify your worth.”

Is he shopping for me?

The 2 males talk about my destiny simply out of earshot, however I pressure to pay attention anyway. I don’t know what is occurring, and I’m nobody’s slave, but when I can get out of right here, it should give me time to plan my escape to the New World.

A second later, I’m lifted from the dingy ground and shoved in direction of the open doorway. Cool air and daylight floods in from the window behind the guard, the tease of freedom so shut I can style it.

Then I deal with the person who could show to be my savior. He’s… breathtaking. Tall and wearing extravagant clothes, his mild eyes fastened on my face. His hair—wavy and someplace between brown and blond, with a touch of redness to it—appears smooth sufficient to ask contact, however his face… My god, his face. His jaw is sharp sufficient to chop glass, and his options are completely positioned, as if sculpted by the best artist in Europe. He presents a delicate smile and my physique warms instantly in response.

“What’s your title?” the person asks.

“Raphael.”

“And your father’s title?”

“I’ve no father. No household title.”

The person nods, glancing on the guard. “Go away us.”

“He’s harmful, sir,” the guard warns.

“He’s chained. I can deal with him.”

The guard leaves because the gorgeous man earlier than me removes his gloves and appears me over. “My title is Yves Orpheus.”

“And what would you like with me, Yves Orpheus?”

Yves chuckles. “I see your bondage has not weakened your bravado.”

I elevate my head in defiance. “Nothing weakens me.”

The smile lingers on his face as he research me. Below his intense gaze, I’ve to surprise if he can see my faults, my needs, my wants.

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