Vaas couldn't trust her. He wanted to, especially after such a display of loyalty. But there was one final test, one last way to be sure that this woman was as dedicated to him as she seemed.

He carried her to the mess hall, a large hut with picnic tables. He laid her down on one of the tables and tied her arms above her head.

Ashelin didn't speak. She didn't know what to say to him. Her whole body shook—from having shot a man, from almost being shot herself, and from the way Vaas looked down at her and brushed a stray lock of red hair from her face.

She couldn't read that look. What was he thinking?

He turned away and exited the mess hall, just as the first rays of sunlight peeked up over the horizon. He hadn't missed her look of disappointment as he left, and was impressed she didn't call after him.

He pulled out his phone and texted Brock.

Brock watched the mess hall camera with interest. He'd heard the commotion a little while back, and rumour had it that Vaas' new pet had sprung the American brothers. One dead, one wounded, and Vaas carried off the little Canadian bitch himself.

He opened his phone to read Vaas' text and a grin broke out on his face. The rumour was true. And her punishment was going to be so, so sweet.

Ashelin tried to relax. This was the first time Vaas had set her up himself, but then he'd left. What was he waiting for? Was he leaving her to writhe with anticipation until his return?

Because it was working.

She heard someone enter to her left and twisted her head around. She was disappointed to see it was the cameraman. Brock, she thought his name was. A few Pirates trickled in behind him, none of them Vaas.

"Well if it isn't the little Canadian bitch," Brock announced as he circled her. Ashelin counted eight Pirates flanking him, and they spread out around her.

She tensed. What was going on?

"Didn't I tell you he'd get sick of you eventually?" One of them sneered.

Her heart skipped a beat. This couldn't be happening. Vaas wouldn't just do this, he saw what she did, didn't he? He saved her life! Not for this.

"I don't think-" Her voice cracked.

"You don't get to think." Brock grinned. "You're ours now. Your daddy paid a lot of money for you, and we're going to keep milking him for it by showing off your weakness." He grinned, and a single tear slipped out of Ashelin's eye, betraying her fear. "Playtime is over, little whore."

"Don't," was all she could say, and froze as he lifted Grant's red shirt over her hips. Once upon a time this might have been exciting for her, helpless in front of so many men.

The realization that she really, really didn't want this man to touch her crashed over her like a bolt of lightning and she found her fight.

Ashelin was vaguely aware of the hoots and hollers of the other Pirates as she kicked at Brock, a flurry of legs and desperation. He wrestled her down and pinned her, though strain showed on his face.

"VAAS!" she screamed, and Brock laughed.

He unzipped his pants. "He doesn't want you anymore."

"Vaas!" Her voice pierced the air, agonized, tears streaming so hard her vision blurred. "Please!" This couldn't be happening. "VAAS!"

Brock suddenly grunted and Ashelin blinked.

He stared at his shoulder, that now had the jolt of a knife sticking out if it. She took the opportunity to kick him off of the table and he hit the floor with a curse and thud.

"What?!" The pirate king himself slammed his hands on either side of her head, and she looked up at him. "What is it, hermana?" he taunted.

"Please don't let them do this..." she sobbed, heart constricting.

"Why not?" He was infuriatingly calm and conversational, as if discussing the weather.

She blinked away fresh tears, focusing on his beautifully rugged face. "Because I'm yours," she croaked, hoarse with emotion. "I only want to be yours."