village, but they still wore collars. They sat on rock benches at various places around the area, many talking as their children played.
A pinging sensation bounced around in Hannahâs heart. The mothers looked so happy, as did the children. Hannah hadnât had the kind of childhood where she was allowed to play with other children. Sheâd been sheltered, watched by a nanny, then sent to boarding schools where fraternization was discouraged.
One of the children threw a baseball-sized black leather ball that overshot the kid heâd been throwing the ball to. It rushed straight for Hannah. Garran snapped his hand up and caught the ball before it would have slammed into her face.
Relief whooshed through her. That would have hurt like hell.
A young boy dressed in a royal-blue tunic and pants trotted toward them with a chagrined expression. âIâI didnât mean toââ
Garran squatted so he was eye level with the boy and handed him the ball. âYou have great strength, Jalen.â The boy clutched the ball to his chest and looked at Garran with wide blue eyes. Garran placed his hand on the boyâs left arm. âContinue your practice, most especially your control. One day you will make a fine warrior.â
Jalen nodded hard enough that his blue hair fell into his eyes. âYes, my lord.â
Garran eased to his feet and gestured to the park. âEnjoy your game of carta .â
The boy nodded again before whirling and bolting to
where other boys and girls had stopped playing and were staring at Garran. Some waved and gave shy smiles and Garran acknowledged them with a slight incline of his head.
It was odd seeing Garran as more than a king and a warrior. A strange whirling gripped her insides and she had no idea why.
She let her gaze drift from Garran to the boys and girls. âTheyâre beautiful.â
âChildren among Dark Elves are rare,â he said softly, with what sounded like a touch of longing, and she moved her gaze toward him. âThey are much treasured.â
The distant look in his eyes surprised her for a moment before she realized he was probably thinking of his own daughter, Rhiannon, who had been raised among humans and kept far from himâin San Francisco. A part of Hannah melted and it took a lot of effort to make herself return to the subject that still bothered her.
âYou havenât explained this whole Master/slave thing,â she said, and his attention cut to her.
âOur women are not slaves.â His words had a hard edge to them and he had an even harder look in his eyes. âIt is an exchange of power, protection, and pleasure if you will.â
Hannah frowned. âIâm not following you.â
Garran folded his arms and leaned his hip against one of the larger boulders. âOur men are far stronger physically than our women. They rely on us for protection and to provide for them.â
She crossed her own arms beneath her breasts and her frown turned into a scowl. âSo the males make them walk around with hardly anything on, wearing collars, and calling them Master ?â
âIn turn,â Garran continued as his gaze held hers, âthe woman holds the power to give the man pleasure.â
Her cheeks heated as her anger rose. âSo this is all about sex.â
He shook his head, his silvery-blue hair shimmering in the soft glow given off by the lichen above. âA Drow female
who serves a Master has the power to please him in all aspects of his life. Family, home, and yes, sex.â
Hannah huffed out her breath. âI donât get it.â
Garran took her by the elbow again. They walked along a path and she tried to calm down about the whole woman-serving-a-man thing. Barbaric .
He came to a stop in front of another jewelerâs display. He glanced at one of the gem-studded collars then turned his gaze on her. âWouldnât you enjoy belonging to someone, Hannah