Human Rights (8 page)

Chapter Six

My knees hurt. Winter had come, and the combination of the cold weather and the icy, bare floor beneath me left me gritting my teeth. Sir Jiat sat in a chair, turning the pages of some sort of pamphlet the pound left out on the tables in the receiving room. I wanted to shift, stretch my back, but I wasn't allowed. My collar was tight, the lead attached to it taut to keep my back slightly bowed. It was the proper posture for a pet, but it was a posture I hadn't been forced into for any length of time over the last six months. Sir Jiat liked me relaxed, comfortable, but this situation was neither. My six month check in. This was when a master could return his adopted pet for whatever reason. Despite Sir Jiat's assurances before we'd left the house, fear coiled through me. The smell of the pound, the sterile colors, the harsh edges of everything... I wanted to curl against Sir Jiat, beg him to protect me, keep me. This place was hell, and my next step if I was returned yet again was the back room where pets met their end to save a little coin for the city.

I shook myself. No. Sir Jiat had no intention of returning me. He didn't. And he wouldn't lie to me. Never had he lied to me. We were here merely to check in, and then we would go home and this would be forever behind me. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Of course, Sir Jiat would be in just as much trouble as me if he did return me. The things I knew were enough to condemn him and others right alongside me. No, if Jiat ever tired of me, he would have no choice but to dispatch me himself in order to protect his secrets. Not a comforting thought, that, but then, this wasn't a comforting place.

Finally, we were called back into the examination room. Sir Jiat removed my collar and helped me to step up onto the cold metal table. Several more minutes passed before the shelter's doctor came in. Dr. Tiwan's coat was white, whiter even than the sterile, blank walls of this place, which only made his green eyes glow the brighter. Tiwan had been working at the shelter the first time I arrived, and it seemed that he'd be here long after I never had to fear returning.

"Back again, are we, Ewan?" Tiwan asked, not waiting for an answer. "How has he been for you, Sir Jiat? I did warn you when you first adopted him that he was a bit precocious."

Jiat nodded. "You did, but I have to say, it was totally unnecessary. Ewan has been exemplary in my care."

"A reflection, no doubt, of your exceptional skills as a trainer. As I've always said, Humans do possess a fair amount of intelligence and can learn even complex tasks, but left to their own devices, they never survive for long. The dull teeth, spindly, unclawed fingers, and lack of even the barest coat make them completely unsuitable for life on their own. Fortunately, there are individuals like you who are willing to overlook that and take the poor things in."

"Of course." Sir Jiat was annoyed; I could tell by the way his paws were flexing by his sides and how the tip of his tail twitched. He gestured in my direction. "Would you mind, Tiwan? I'm afraid I do have other matters that require my attention today."

Tiwan looked over at me and seemed to remember I was in the room. "Oh! Yes, certainly. I know how hectic the life of a Guard can be." He started checking me over for any cuts or scrapes that might require attention. Unfortunately, he continued speaking the entire time. "It's worse for mutts like this one, of course. A competent breeder can weed out things like aggression or stupidity. Ones like this, born out in the wild... well, they don't have that benefit. It's almost impossible to fully tame them. You never know when they might do something... unexpected."

On that last word, Tiwan pinched my side, hard. I yelped and jerked away before I could stop myself. I covered my mouth with my hand, looking guiltily toward Sir Jiat. My lovely owner, though, merely smiled at me and nodded to tell me that I'd done nothing wrong.

"I take the welfare of my pets very seriously," Sir Jiat stated flatly. "I would appreciate it if you didn't molest them any more than strictly necessary to complete your examination." Sir Jiat puffed himself up slightly, emphasizing the height advantage he had over Tiwan.

Tiwan visibly flinched, and I allowed myself a small, internal moment of perverse glee. "Of course. Apologies, Sir Jiat. So, am I to take this to mean that you are not intending to return Ewen to us today?"

"Not today, not ever."

I nearly fainted at the conviction in those words. I started thinking back over the conversation with Jill and her relationship with Lady Hyra. Up to now, I had imagined that Sir Jiat and I could have that kind of love with one another, but I had never seriously thought that it could happen. Not until that moment, until I heard those words from him, spoken with such certainty. It seemed he was almost daring Tiwan to challenge him. I felt my cheeks grow hot, and my cock stirred between my legs and began to harden. I clenched my eyes shut and forced it to stop. I couldn't risk giving anything away here.

Tiwan seemed not to notice, thankfully, and he finished his examination of me with no further commentary on my inferiority. No, he had to start rambling about purebreeds. Purebreeds, the ones everyone vied to buy. The expensive, pampered pets whose bloodlines were cherished, cultivated, and coveted. I understood why most of Sir Jiat's companions chose to adopt mutts, as purebreeds weren't in the precarious positions most mutts were. Our lives were cheap. We were
disposable
. Once we were too old, once the shine was gone and the kittens and puppies grew out of their love for us... Our love didn't matter. Our devotion was only worthy while we were young and pretty. There was a reason I never saw
old
mutts. We either came here, to the back room, or we had 'accidents'. Easily replaced at the feet of the family we served.

"Did you hear about Mistress Lyl's pet? What was its name?" Tiwan asked as he poked and prodded me, checked to make sure Sir Jiat hadn't been mistreating me. It was only cursory; if he had found bruises on me, obvious signs of abuse, I don't think he would have confiscated me.

Sir Jiat's eyes narrowed a little. "
His
name was Jac, and yes, I have heard. It's a sad thing when one's pet meets their end. I sent my condolences this morning."

Who was Mistress Lyl? And who was Jac? I looked to Sir Jiat, but he shook his head almost imperceptibly. If I was to know who they were, this was not the place I would be told.

Tiwan tsked, his whiskers twitching. "I saw to the poor boy last night and sent my report to the Guardhouse. I believe Sir Vais was overseeing the case. The third mutt to be lost this month. I would say it's a shame, but—"

"Yes, your opinion of mutts is quite clear," Sir Jiat snapped, his ears pressing back. "If we are through here?"

Tiwan nodded, making notes on some papers across the room. "I will close out your file, Sir Jiat." He turned back to us and smiled, showing his sharp teeth. "It was a pleasure seeing you again, and I wish you luck with your pet."

Sir Jiat slid the collar around my neck once more, gave my leash a sharp tug, and I slid off the table, keeping my back as straight as possible. He led me through the rooms, but I didn't notice anything around me beyond how my joints ached. The bitter wind awaited me, and I wasn't looking forward to the walk home. My feet were protected by my precious sandals, but my body was bare to the winter elements. The walk here had been terrible, and I only realized I was whining when Sir Jiat gave my leash another tug. I looked up at him, a fine tremble moving through me.

"Enough, Ewan," Sir Jiat said, his tone sharp. I didn't like that tone. For me, it was worse than a whip's strike.

I lowered my eyes again as Sir Jiat opened the door, the wind swirling around me, the soft kiss of ice dancing over my skin. Almost instantly, my teeth began to chatter. I followed Sir Jiat to the curb, and a third tug to my leash brought my eyes up once more to see the protected cab of a carriage waiting for us. The door opened, and Lady Hyra smiled out at us, Jill seated on a plush pillow at Lady Hyra's feet. Sir Jiat stepped inside and sat opposite Lady Hyra, and I joined him, kneeling on the second, empty pillow by his feet. The door shut, and I was blissfully warm, protected.

Sir Jiat's hand combed through my hair, encouraging me to lean against his furry knee. I closed my eyes, smiling as I did just that. The carriage jerked forward, and we were on our way home.

"Jac is safe?" Sir Jiat asked.

"Yes." Lady Hyra. Her voice was quiet, subdued. "His leg is broken, but our runner did report back that he is safe in the colony. Poor Lyl. She wasn't quite ready to let Jac go, but I think they were beginning to draw attention."

Sir Jiat grunted, his claws gently scratching at my scalp. "You must be careful, too. I do not want anyone to rip Jill away from you. Not until you are ready to go to the colony with her."

Jac. Another pet. Another mutt who had fallen in love with his mistress. Another pet sent to this colony. I nuzzled Sir Jiat's knee, not bothering to open my eyes. I was content. No one was going to take me from Sir Jiat, and though I loved him—and I thought he loved me—I didn't think I could have what Jill had. I didn't want to hope, though Sir Jiat's words still echoed in my mind, tempting me.

You are special, Ewan.

Maybe... just maybe...

I hoped.

Once we were home, I was rushed into the bathing room, where Hosanna had already drawn a steaming bath. Sir Jiat removed my leash but left the fine collar around my throat.

"Into the tub," Sir Jiat ordered, and I happily complied.

I couldn't help but moan. Even in the safety of the carriage, there had been a bit of a draft. My toes were so very cold, and my joints still ached. The hot water lapped at my body, chased away the worst of the chill. When I opened my eyes after settling into the tub, Sir Jiat was gazing down at me. There was an odd look to his amber eyes, something curious and uncertain. I didn't understand it, but still, my cheeks tinted red. I could feel them throb with the blush.

"I am truly yours, then?" I asked, my voice soft in the echoing room.

Sir Jiat gave a small nod. "Yes," he murmured, and the word sounded almost like a purr. By the stars, I wanted to hear him purr. I wanted to
feel
his purr, know that my hands, my body, made him purr. "No more trips to the pound. You belong to me."

I shuddered, and he had to have seen it. It made the water ripple. "Good," I breathed. I didn't want to belong to anyone else, not even the High Lord himself.

After another moment of watching me, Sir Jiat grabbed a bar of soap and a sponge. He knelt beside the tub and began to wash me. I didn't need to be washed. Warmed, yes, but not washed. Hosanna had bathed me this morning before breakfast in preparation for the trip to see Dr. Tiwan. So, why was Sir Jiat washing me now? He had to have given Hosanna the order to wash me. He began with my back, and I moaned again, letting my head fall forward. Whether I'd been washed that morning or not, I loved feeling Sir Jiat's hands on me. It didn't take long before his paw replaced the sponge, the bare pads soaped and slick over my wet skin. That intimate touch did things to me I was both ashamed of and desperate to experience.

His hand moved along my chest as I lay back against the slanted side of the tub, my legs stretched out in front of me. The gentle slosh of water and my own breathing were the only sounds as Sir Jiat's fingers slid over my nipples. I was hard. There was no hiding it. He made me want in ways I didn't understand, but I didn't care. He was touching me under the thin guise of washing. Still, I knew he was touching me because he
wanted
to. It was there for me to feel as his paw slid down my stomach, over a hip. The want I felt was inside him, too, but as his fingers brushed just below my navel and I held my breath, I didn't know if he would act on our mutual want.

There was a moment of stillness, of decision, and then Sir Jiat withdrew, grabbing a towel and wiping his hands as he stood up. There was a hardness hidden by his loincloth, something more to tempt my fevered dreams with. He cleared his throat. "Finish washing," he ordered, voice so deep and gruff. "We will have supper, and then I shall read to you before bed."

"Yes, Master," I murmured, and I didn't recognize my own voice, the thickness to it.

He left me alone in the hot, soapy water with need pounding between my legs. Doubt began to creep into my thoughts. No one would have seen us share pleasure. The obvious hardness of my cock should have shown how much I
wanted
to share pleasure with him. But... but maybe he didn't really want that. Had I imagined the glow of his eyes when he'd looked at me? Had his touch been clinical and I'd only read into it what my fantasy demanded? Oh, I didn't know! I frowned at the soapy water, my brow furrowed as confusion and uncertainty raged through me alongside my desire.

I washed, though I didn't pay much attention as I did so. I dried myself, oiled my flesh, and combed my hair. By the time I presented myself for supper, my cock had relaxed once more, though I didn't look up from my plate. I still found it so strange to sit at a table, in a chair, and eat with knife and spoon. Eating was mechanical, and the sounds of utensils on plates, the clink of glasses, was the only sound between us at the table. Sir Jiat didn't speak to me as he usually did, and I truly began to worry. Had I ruined something by moaning? By growing firm at his touch? Moon and sun, I hope I hadn't. I didn't want to be sent to that colony without him.