A Pirate's Agony (Legends of the Soaring Phoenix Book 3) by M.L. Guida

her wrist. Despite being broken, he was amazingly strong. “Get da hell away from me.”
    Not a good start. “I’m here to help you.”
    “Like hell you are. You’re here to—” He bit his lip and looked away. A proud man. Celeste’s favorite prey was an honorable man. She liked to break  him down bit by bit until he was a broken shell.
    “I’m sorry.” 
    His face darkened. “You know—” He lowered his gaze.
    “I know what she does.”
    “Sweet merciful heaven.” His voice broke, and he moved closer to the wall.  
    “Not everyone knows.”
    “But you do.” Bitterness drenched his words.
    “She can’t lie to me.”
    “How da hell does a woman do dat to a man?”
    “Pain arouses her.”
    “Jesus.” 
    “There wasn’t anything you could have done. You’re powerless. Like the rest of us.”
    He inhaled, his chest rising up and down. “No, I’m not. Tomorrow night’s da full moon.”
    Violet frowned. “What does the full moon have to do with you not being powerless?”  
    He gave her a hard look, the same one her stepfather used to give her, filled with resentment and hate.
    “Are you planning an escape?”
    He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Why?”
    She didn’t know how to answer his question. The minute she’d seen him up on that slave auction, her heart pattered hard and her legs had trembled. He stood proud, and for some reason, power emitted from him. Since she’d come to this forsaken island, he was the only man she’d felt drawn to. She blurted, “If you are, will you take me with you?”
    His scowl turned darker. “What?”
    She was afraid if he got loose, he’d beat her like her stepfather. But she didn’t have much choice. “I’d sell myself to you. I can’t stay here any longer. I’d do anything, anything to escape.”
    “Even sell yourself to a pirate? You do know what pirates do to women captives?” He gripped her wrist.
    She winced. Despite being beaten, he was strong, damn strong. He could wring her neck with one hand. But ‘twas his veiled threat that chilled her blood. Was she condemning herself to a worse fate? Defeat seeped into her bones. She lowered her head. “Aye. Chloe is safe.” 
    His eyes brightened. “How?”
    “Celeste has forgotten about her, and she’s hidden in one of the barracks. Michelle has her.”
    “Michelle? The woman from this afternoon?”
    “Aye.”
    He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. He slowly released her, and red fingerprints wrapped marked her wrist. She placed the rag into the muddy water. She wished she had other abilities than knowing whether someone was lying. What good had that ever done? Gotten her into plenty of trouble.
    Under his breath, he mumbled, “I’m going to kill Celeste.”
    Violet overlooked his threat. Threats to the Maîtresse were dealt with swiftly. “Your head is bleeding.” She opened her bag. “I can stitch it.”
    But his twisted and obviously broken knee, she wasn’t sure she could help. She’d brought what she could to heal him. Whenever she could, she volunteered to help the men condemned here. They were always the same—tall, brawny, handsome. She had trouble concentrating in the house, listening to their screams. ‘Twas worse when they were in the bedroom. And then there was the mess afterward…
    “She’s goin’ to kill me, isn’t she?”
    She blinked twice but held his perceptive gaze, hoping he’d believe her. “No, when she’s done, she’ll turn you out onto the sugarcane fields.”
    The minute she said it, burning pain hit her left cheek, and she tried to ignore the itching sensation, focusing on Amadi’s wounds.
    “Why does your face turn red when you lie?”
    She refused to look at him and kept washing his leg. “I’m not lying. You’ll be fine.”  Unfortunately, her voice squeaked like a baby chick.
    Chains moved, and she pretended not to notice. Strong fingers clasped her chin and gently raised her face. Her cheeks burned. Not just from the