She exhales, her shoulder slumping in relief, as she reaches out to take my phone in her small, delicate hand.

“Thanks,” she says, her voice quiet and whispery.

She clears her throat and stands up straighter, like she’s trying not to look scared.

“Sorry about all this,” she says, sounding a little stronger. “I didn’t—“

She breaks off, then shakes her head like she’s trying to clear it.

“I didn’t think at all,” she says, dialing a number. “It’s a long story.”

She holds the phone up to her ear, her eyes still on mine, and I turn away because I can’t look at her any more.

Princess Josephine is even more beautiful than she is in her pictures. Even here, in this dark, seedy bar she radiates innocence, vulnerability, and something else.

Something that calls to the darkest part of me. The part I’d hoped to bury.

Something that screams take me.

Ruin me.

Make me yours.

I don’t know what the hell she’s doing here, but thank fucking God she showed up at the dark hole I picked to hide in.

And thank God that she didn’t recognize me, or there’s a good chance she’d have run screaming back into the street.

I scan the dive again while she talks, just to make sure no one else is thinking of trying anything.

The guy with half his teeth is slowly pushing himself off the floor, giving me sulky glares, but he just gets back on his barstool and orders another drink without making a fuss.

Everyone else pretends like nothing happened, like they weren’t all just fucking complicit. Like they didn’t each just watch this girl get denied a simple phone call, for fuck’s sake.

They’re a bunch of worthless goddamn animals, I think. They’re not even fit to be called human.

If these were the old days, and we were in Szegravia, I could do something about it. Toss them all in the mines and never think about it again, but not now. Now we’ve got trials and burden of proof and defense lawyers, and even if those things are usually good, sometimes I want to throw them all out the window and go back to a hand for a hand.

“Okay, thanks,” says behind me. “See you soon.”

I turn, and she hands my phone back. I slide it into my pocket just as her eyes dart to the scar and then away again, still with no glimmer of recognition.

Good. I prefer it that way. She’ll know what I am soon enough.

“Someone’s coming to pick me up,” she says, handing my phone back, her huge blue eyes meeting mine. I can tell she’s trying to sound and act brave, like she’s not scared, but it’s not working.

Every cell in my body is screaming protect her, even though I know the one person she truly needs protecting from is me.

“I’ll walk you out,” I say, sliding my phone back into my pocket.

“You don’t have—“

“I’m going to walk you out.”

Her eyes flash, and her perfect lips just barely part, like she’s about to refuse and fight back. But then she glances at the bartender and at the front door, and she acquiesces.

“Thanks,” she says, and lowers her eyes.

In a split second I’m unbearably hard, my dick aching so bad I think I might blow a blood vessel. I was halfway there already, just looking at her perfect body, the swell of her breasts, imagining her plush lips as she cries out.

But this is it, fucking incredible, the stuff wet dreams are made of. Princess Josephine submitting, even to being walked outside, makes me crave her submission in every other way imaginable.

I want her on her knees, hands tied behind her back, my cock parting her lips.

I want her legs spread while she gasps and I tease her to the edge of orgasm with my tongue, over and over again, refusing to give her satisfaction until I decree it.

I want her trembling as she comes for the fifth time in a row, my cock deep inside her drawing out climax after climax.

In the darkness, I just smile and play the part of rescuing gentleman.

“Ladies first,” I say, and gesture toward the door.

Josephine walks through, and I watch her ass as she does, a perfect bubble swaying from side to side. If I weren’t already rock hard I would be now.

Outside, the streetlights have just come on, but they only make the deserted street look even more abandoned. Far away, a car drives and then turns. The stoplight turns from green to yellow to red, then back to green.

There’s no one out here but us. I’ve got no idea why this shitty bar is here. I just know I found it when I was looking for a place to hide, because darkness is my friend.

“Looks like we’ve got a little time,” I say, hands firmly in my pockets, dick throbbing against my jeans. “What’s a nice girl like you doing down here with no phone and no wallet?”

She sighs again, then pushes a hand through her blond hair, a far away look in her eyes.

“It was dumb,” she admits. “I sort of... spazzed and ran out my front door without thinking, wandered for a while without looking where I was going, and next thing I know I’m down here at night like an idiot.”

“What made you spaz?” I ask.

She clears her throat and looks uncertain, running the tip of her tongue along her top lip, like she’s thinking.

“My parents... gave me some bad news,” she says. “And I really, really needed to leave and clear my head.”

Something clenches in my stomach.

Bad news.

“What kind of bad news?” I press.

A car pulls up to the stoplight on the cross street, and waits. We both crane our necks to see it.

Our light goes red. The car makes a left turn and starts gliding down the street toward us, a black Town Car.

It’s obviously Princess Josephine’s ride, and she blushes. She still doesn’t realize I know who she is.

“Just... bad news, I don’t really want to go into it,” she says, forcing herself to sound cheerful. “That’s my ride. Thanks so much for letting me use your phone and waiting with me.”

“I’m happy to help,” I say, the manners my mother drilled into me coming out. “Try not to wander bad neighborhoods at night any more.”

The car pulls up and stops. She waves to the driver, and I walk forward, opening the back door for her.

“I’ll try,” she says, then pauses. “Listen, is there anything I can do for you? I’m so sorry, I didn’t think to ask—“

I just chuckle.

“Not a single thing,” I say.

She frowns, but sits in the car. I close the door after her, and she waves to me once before the car pulls away.

Bad news, I think.

I’m pretty sure I know what the bad news her parents gave her was.

And I’m pretty sure it’s me.