iYISHA'S POV
Iyisha froze when the man's voice cut through her sobs.
"Stop moving," he said sharply. "Or I'll slice you."
She did not stop.
Panic tore through her body too fast to control, instinct overwhelming reason as she thrashed harder, terror screaming through her veins that stillness would be the end of her. She saw the blade flash in the firelight as it came down, close enough that the cold of it seemed to travel ahead of the steel.
The knife tore through fabric.
The sound was sharp. Final.
Her dress split open beneath it, silk giving way too easily, and cold air rushed over her skin in a way that made her gasp violently, shock rippling through her as she realized she was suddenly exposed, stripped of the last thin barrier between herself and them.
Laughter erupted.
"Jackpot," one of the men said, crude and delighted.
