Nick shuddered into consciousness. That slight movement alone started a dull throbbing radiating out from his chest and wrists to swirl through his entire body. He’d known he’d have to be branded with his master’s mark of ownership, and he understood why. Collars and piercings—even tattoos—could be removed, but a brand was there forever.
He’d had no idea whisky would be forced down his throat and he’d be tied down, that the entire process would be so brutal. Nick had heard Todd trying to shout through his gag, watched him struggling to get loose. Nick saw the tears in Todd’s eyes and how they dripped down his cheeks. He knew Todd had nothing to do with the way the brands were applied. Most importantly, Nick saw it in the horror and anger in Todd’s face.
There was the vague memory, more l
