6
Juliet
Jarl stepped back, leaving my arms bound above my head. “You have no choice, Juliet,” he reminded me. Then he took hold of my shift and ripped it from top to bottom.
I hung from the ties, my chest heaving as he stripped me naked. When he stepped back to view his handiwork, I pressed my pale legs together, trying to hide the dark thatch of hair at their apex.
But Fenrir knelt and tied my ankles apart until I stood on the platform, spread eagled. I could not escape. Jarl appeared in front of me and I jerked back as far as I could in my tethers.
“Easy,” Fenrir steadied me with hands at my hips. His rough hands smoothed over me.
“Here.” Jarl draped a cloth over my eyes. I tried to shake free, but he tied it behind my head.
“What—” I tried to ask, and one of them stuffed a piece
