Chapter 04 - The First Lesson

The next morning, I walked from the Crooked Nail to Ashara’s compound and followed the stairs down to her underground chamber, where a few torches lit up the stone walls. I stood just inside the doorway in my own clothes, arms crossed, pretending I wasn’t nervous as hell.

Mistress Ashara stepped forward, and my throat went dry.

She crossed the stone floor fast, and I didn’t hear a single step, which gave me the creeps.

Her skimpy black leather was strapped so tight across her that I wondered how she breathed in it. The straps left most of her thighs bare, sleek black fur and all, and the deep V of her neckline was entirely unnecessary.

A slow, deliberate tap-tap-tap of her riding crop against her gloved palm pulled my gaze to her hands. Her gloves were tight enough to show every long finger, and I didn’t want to think about what those fingers could do to a throat.

Gods, she was hot, which was the last thing I needed on my first day.

I tried to keep a straight face and hoped I wasn’t blushing.

I’m here to become a rogue, I reminded myself. I had to remind myself twice, because my eyes kept sliding back down that neckline.

Ashara smirked, and I figured she could read my thoughts.

I flashed my best cocky grin, ready to show Ashara what I was made of. She thought she could break me? Please. I’d survived griffons, panthers, and walking in on Maya with a barbarian. This was nothing.

She answered by tossing a bundle of fabric at my chest. I caught it on instinct and unfolded the absolute joke of an outfit. A sleeveless tunic that looked like it had been hacked from someone’s bedsheet and shorts at least two sizes too small. I stared at them, then at her, then back at them. I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could say a single word, she raised the riding crop.

Her golden eyes said she was hoping I’d argue.

“Strip, Samuel.” She said it sweetly, and she meant every word. “Or I’ll do it for you.”

I honestly couldn’t tell if that was a threat or a promise.

I thought about telling her no. The crop smacked once against her leather-clad thigh.

Fine, I’d strip.

Reluctantly, I kicked off my boots and peeled off my tunic, the cool air nipping at my bare skin. My pants came next. The moment I stepped out of them and tossed everything onto a bench by the door, Ashara looked me over slowly, sizing me up like a barn cat eyeing a mouse it planned to play with before it ate it.

I yanked on the joke outfit. The new tunic barely covered anything, the hem riding up every time I moved. And the shorts? Gods, they squeezed my ass and everything in front of it. I tugged at them, which only made things worse.

They pulled tight against my dick, and it twitched. Gods, why did I like that?

Ashara tilted her head like she was curious. “Don’t be shy.” The purr in her voice went straight to my shorts.

I scowled. “This is humiliating. I’ve seen dishrags with more cloth on them.”

She arched a brow, stepping closer until I could smell the spiced leather and the warm fur under it. “You’ll be exposed one way or another before the day is over.”

The way she said it made my stomach drop, and I hoped to the gods she meant the course.

Ashara led me deeper into the chamber, where the obstacle course was waiting, and whoever built it hated people. It had teetering platforms, axes swinging on chains, a narrow beam over a pit of thorny vines, and spinning logs. I could already feel the bruises forming.

She strode ahead, hips swaying. My eyes trailed her because of course they did, the sleek black leather tight across her ass, flashes of furred thigh between the straps as she walked.

I dragged my gaze higher, but that didn’t help.

She turned, catching me staring. That damn smirk was back.

“Is my tail that interesting?” she asked, twirling her crop between her fingers.

I scoffed, crossing my arms, pretending I wasn’t flustered. “I was studying your movement.”

“Mm.” She pressed the tip of the crop to my chest. “Try to keep up, then.”

She was fast as hell. One second she was in front of me, and the next she was weaving through swinging axes and vaulting gaps without making a sound.

When she landed lightly on the other side, she flicked a stray strand of hair from her face, not even winded. “That is how a rogue moves,” she said, her tail swishing behind her. “Silent. Controlled. Efficient.”

I rolled my shoulders like I hadn’t just watched her make the whole thing look easy.

“Right,” I muttered, eyeing the first platform. “How hard can it be?”

On the far side of the course, Ashara leaned on her crop. “I am going to enjoy this.”

I took a deep breath, focused on my footing, and pushed forward.

Three steps in, I immediately regretted everything.

I stepped onto a tilting platform that shifted violently, throwing me off balance. My arms flailed. My tunic flew up to my armpits, and for a solid, horrifying moment Ashara got a full view of my ass in those shorts.

Ashara’s taunting clap echoed through the room as I crashed to the ground with a graceless thud.

I groaned, the cool stone pressing against my back, staring at the ceiling and trying to remember why I’d wanted this job.

“Graceful,” Ashara drawled, walking back across the course to stand over me. “Truly, I am in awe.”

I forced my head up just enough to glare at her. “You—”

The riding crop cracked across my bare thigh, and the sting made me jolt.

“Finish that sentence on your feet,” she said.

I exhaled sharply through my nose. This woman was going to kill me.

I rolled onto my side, bracing myself to stand. “Fine. One fluke. I got this.”

“By all means, Samuel,” Ashara said. “Show me.”

I gritted my teeth and forced myself back onto my feet.

Ashara sent me back to the start. My cocky grin from earlier was dead and buried, and this time I walked up to the course with her crop tapping behind me.

I got over the platforms without falling. The first axe swung at my head, and somebody had sharpened it, because of course they had. I ducked it by flinching harder than I’d ever flinched in my life, and for a second I felt like a real rogue. Maybe I wasn’t as useless as she thought.

Next came the balance beam. It stretched over a pit of thorny vines. I stepped onto the slick wood and tried not to look down.

Halfway across, my foot slipped.

I pinwheeled my arms, scrambling to correct myself.

I did not correct myself.

I tumbled into the vines, and the landing rattled my spine. The thorns bit into every bare inch of me, and that outfit left a lot of bare inches.

The vines moved.

I froze, and all I could think was, what the hell?

The vines coiled around me, rough and strong, creeping up my legs and wrapping around my waist. They squeezed hard, and I fought them out of pure panic. The more I fought, the tighter they got, and under the panic the stupid, horny part of my brain woke up and noticed I was tied down and completely helpless. My skin tingled where they gripped me. It hurt, and gods help me, it also felt kind of good.

A low, amused hum broke through my haze of oh-gods-get-them-off, and I knew it was Ashara before I looked.

She crouched at the edge of the pit, crop resting against her thigh, and watched me struggle.

“If you panic, you die,” she said, and she sounded almost happy about it.

I growled through clenched teeth, squirming against the vines. “Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

Her crop tapped my thigh, then slid up it, taking its time.

It dragged across my hip and up my stomach before it touched my cheek. My jaw locked, and I went hot all over.

“You’re moving with fear, Samuel,” she murmured, tilting her head. “A rogue must move with confidence.”

I opened my mouth to fire back, anything to distract from the fact that I was trapped and she knew it.

The crop snapped down on my thigh, light enough to sting.

I gasped, and her pleased little smile made my face burn hotter than the sting.

Before I could think of a comeback, she twirled a dagger between her fingers, leaned down and sliced through the vines around me.

The vines went limp.

I dropped out of them onto the floor of the pit in an undignified heap.

I barely had time to suck in a breath before she hopped down beside me and nudged my ribs with her boot.

“Again,” she said smoothly. Like I had a choice.

I pressed my forehead to the cold stone at the bottom of the pit.

I had many regrets in life, and signing up for this was climbing that list fast.

I hauled myself out of the pit. Every muscle hurt, but Ashara was still watching me with that amused look, and I’d rather die than quit in front of her.

I was done being careful.

I barreled forward, dodging the first few obstacles faster than I knew I could move. Ashara wanted agility? I’d give her agility.

But the floor shifted.

I heard the sharp click of a pressure plate under my foot, and wooden paddles swung out at me from both sides.

The first paddle cracked against my shoulder out of nowhere. I yelped and twisted away on instinct, straight into the next one.

Another paddle caught me across the stomach and knocked the wind out of me.

The thwack of the next paddle landing squarely across my ass echoed through the chamber. The sting turned into a hot throb, and my cock started stirring against these ridiculous shorts.

My face burned. My ass was on fire, and I was getting hard. What the hell was wrong with me? This was supposed to be punishment, and my dick had decided it was a reward.

I stumbled and dodged, but the enchanted paddles kept coming, and two more of them found my ass.

“Pain is a teacher, Samuel,” she crooned.

“Yeah?” I shot back, out of breath, with my face red and my shorts tighter than ever. “Then I think I’m valedictorian.”

She laughed, low and throaty.

Gods, I hated how much my dick liked that sound.

By the time I staggered out the other side and collapsed, I was wrecked. Every muscle ached, and I could barely lift my head.

Ashara crouched beside me, gloved fingers gripping my chin, forcing me to look up.

“A rogue does not simply dodge and run,” she murmured. “He must be clever. He must use his words. If your feet fail, your tongue should save you.”

I swallowed. She was close enough that I could feel her breath on my mouth.

She took her time letting go of my chin, but she stayed crouched over me.

“You have the agility of a drunk mule,” she sighed, looking me over.

I winced, and she leaned in until her lips brushed my ear. “But you do have one thing.”

My voice cracked. “Please say my ass.”

“Stubbornness.”

She got to her feet. “Rest. Tomorrow, we do it all again.”

I rolled onto my back. Everything hurt, and I was still half hard. I hated her. I wanted her too, which meant I was completely screwed.

It took me a while to peel myself off the floor. I was covered in bruises, and I stripped off the outfit she’d forced me into. I tossed the tunic and shorts onto the bench and grabbed my real clothes.

Pulling on my own tunic was a huge relief, except the fabric scraped my bruises and made me wince. My ass throbbed.

I yanked on my pants with a hiss and shoved my feet into my boots. I wasn’t going to let this break me.

The chamber was empty when I turned around. Ashara was gone, and I hadn’t heard her leave. I limped up the stairs and out of the compound, and the cold mountain air slapped me in the face. The streets of Ashbourne were packed with merchants and wagons, and I limped through them without looking at a single one.

I needed to wash the sweat and shame off, so I dragged myself to the public baths and let the hot water soak into my muscles. By the time I stumbled out, the sun was setting.

After that, all I wanted was the Crooked Nail.

Inside, the warmth hit me all at once, and the smell of stew and ale made my stomach growl. I spotted Maple behind the bar pouring a tankard of ale, and she looked up and met my eyes.

“Well, well,” she drawled, setting the tankard on the bar in front of an empty stool and looking me up and down. “First day with Ashara?” Her lips twitched, and she leaned over the bar and dropped a pouch of ice on the seat of that stool. “You’ll want that, sweetheart.”

I groaned and lowered myself onto the stool, right on top of the ice. It felt amazing on my sore ass. “She’s a sadist,” I complained, reaching for the ale. “A damn spanking gauntlet? Who does that?”

Maple snorted. “Aww, poor thing,” she teased, tousling my hair like I was some stray kitten. “Did the big, bad rogue master hurt you?”

I glared at her, but she was having too much fun for me to stay mad. “Shut up,” I said, taking a long swig of ale.

She slid a steaming bowl of stew in front of me, and I ate half of it before I came up for air. “My ass has been personally introduced to every single one of those paddles,” I grumbled between bites.

Maple laughed, and her chest bounced in that low-cut dress hard enough to stop my spoon halfway to my mouth. “Oh, sweetness,” she said, leaning on the counter. “You’re just sore she made it look easy.”

I scowled. “You’re just saying that because you’re in love with her.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe a little. But mostly because she’s good at what she does.” She leaned in, her voice dropping. “And so are you, even if you don’t know it yet.”

Maybe she was right. My ass sure didn’t think so.

Eventually, I pushed off the bar, tossing a few coins onto the counter. “Thanks, Maple. I owe you one.”

She winked, pocketing the money. “You owe me several, but who’s counting?”

Shaking my head, I dragged myself toward the stairs. Halfway up, somebody in a hooded cloak came up the stairs behind me and brushed past me on her way to the top.

It was the cloaked woman from last night. I knew her by the long brown hair peeking out from beneath her hood, and this close she smelled like spice and flowers. My step faltered as she passed, because if I’d guessed right last night, this was the girl I’d heard moaning through my wall.

She paused at the top of the stairs, tilting her head toward me. Beneath the hood, her big brown eyes found mine, and she looked like she was trying not to laugh at me.

I opened my mouth, but she was already gone, slipping through a door down the hall. I’d have bet anything it was the room next to mine.

I stood on the stairs with my mouth still hanging open. Who was she?

When I got to my room, someone had already lit the fire. I unbuckled my belt, kicked off my boots, and collapsed onto the bed. I was dead tired.

Muffled moans and the rhythmic thumping of a headboard from the next room made me crack one eye open.

A slow, tired grin stretched across my face.

“At least someone’s having fun,” I muttered.

I had a feeling this mystery woman was going to be a problem.